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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months ago

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The Monster You Know

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: For your own safety, the strongest sorcerer of today kidnaps you.

Word Count: 6.9k

(Warnings: implied masturbation, implied nsfw, implied noncon recording, death of a minor character.....im pretty sure i missed a warning so lemme know any pls)

Instead of waking up in a bed, you find yourself on the floor.

It's not a comfortable spot to sleep in. The carpet is clean, but it's odd because you don't have this type of carpet in your room. Actually, this isn't your room at all.

But the panic doesn't really set in until you realize your arms are bound.

You don't notice him until he speaks. You're too busy yanking on the metal, pulling your hand as hard as you could. The cuffs don't even budge.

"If you keep yanking your arms like that, you might break 'em."

He's tall, rivaling the door he just walked through. He looks a couple of years older than you, but his white hair can't be natural, not at his age. His blue eyes are lax. The worst part is how relaxed he looks. He has an eased posture and a pretty smile. He's amused, watching you like you’re a pesky mouse trapped in a bucket.

You don’t know him. You’re stuck in an unfamiliar room, chained to the floor, and you don’t know this man.

Escape isn’t possible. So you resort to the next best thing: you plead.

“Who are you?” Your voice is light and wavers on every syllable. “Where-Where am I? Did you bring me here? Please don’t-“

”You always this talkative in the morning?” He dodges your question with a lax grin. “Anyway, uh, sorry about this-“ he gestures to your tied-up form “-I would've used a talisman, but those won’t work on you for obvious reasons. The handcuffs aren’t too tight, are they?”

He steps closer, and you scream. It’s shrill, filled with a type of fear that makes your blood freeze because you don’t know this man, you don’t know where you are, and he’s getting closer.

“Okay okay, I get it!” He manages to say over your pleas for help, but he steps back, and it’s enough to quiet your fear. “Obviously, you need some more time alone, so I’m gonna give you a couple more hours. Feel free to take a mint!” He cheerily points to the nightstand.

He leaves as quickly as he enters. The door shuts but doesn’t lock. You’d be relieved if you weren’t still incapacitated.

You look around the room. Nothing of value, nothing that you could reach and grab. Apart from a chair, the only other pieces of furniture were a heavy-looking bed and a bolted-down nightstand. Your kidnapper was certainly meticulous.

The restraints have just enough slack for you to lean over. You peer at the nightstand. A plastic bowl, too flimsy to be made into a weapon. It contains wrapped-white candies. You gingerly pick one up.

They’re sugar-free.

He returns to the mints scattered all over the floor.

“Okay.” He notes, gracefully stepping over the mess. “Clearly, you aren’t a fan of peppermint. 'you a wintergreen kinda’ person?”

You don’t look at him. You’ve been in the same position you had been in for hours, sitting curled on the floor. By then, your desperation was starting to show through.

“Please just let me go.” You mutter, your voice so low, it’s a miracle he can hear you. “I don’t have any money. I have nothing to offer.”

”Well, that’s good because I don’t want your money.” He says. “I know this looks pretty bad, but this is for your sake more than mine.”

You look at him just as he squats down to your height. You shift away. he smiles.

”Do you know what sorcerer's are?”

You blink.

“It’s fine if you don’t; we all start somewhere, right? A sorcerer is someone who can manipulate cursed energy. I’m a sorcerer! I don’t wanna brag too much, but I’m pretty good at it.”

He laughs like he’s telling a joke, and you suddenly realize that you were kidnapped by someone who believes he’s a wizard.

“Guess you’re still lost, huh? How about I just show you instead?” He points to an ironed-out shirt hanging on a rack. You follow his finger.

He didn't move. There was no machinery. The shirt just crinkled by itself before it dropped to the floor.

You gape. The man grins.

"Pretty amazing, right? That's cursed energy, or, my power if you wanna be less technical."

"Cursed energy." You whisper, a repetition of his words rather than any actual understanding. He beams regardless.

"Yeah! Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but let's just start with the basics for now. Baby steps."

Your dread doesn't fade. Earlier, you feared what a man could do to you, tied and defenseless. Now, you wondered what this man wouldn't do to you.

"Okay, then....why?" You warily ask him. "Why tell me any of this? What's the point?"

"An excellent question!" He commends you, as though he were your teacher and not your jailor. "See, cursed energy is a bit complicated, but it's extremely effective. In almost every case, it's the solution. Except for you."

You shrink back.

"What-what does that mean?"

His grin turns feline. He's enjoying this; seeing you shake, waver beneath his eyes.

"Exactly what I said: you aren't affected by cursed energy. A sorcerer could use their technique on you, and there won't even be a scratch on your body. You're basically the Eraserhead of the Jujutsu World."

You stare at him. He hums, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

"I'm not great at explanations. How about we just have a hands-on experience?"

He extends his hands. A purple orb crackles to life, slowly gaining mass.

"Not too big," he says, though it's clear he isn't speaking to you, "don't wanna wreck the room."

He adjusts his angle so it's facing you. Your eyes widen, and the desperation to wrangle yourself out of the handcuffs grows stronger.

"Wait, stop!" You pleads fall on deaf ears. "Okay okay. I believe you. I believe you-" He flicks his fingers. You close your eyes just before impact.

You expected something. Electricity, a shock. Pain. Your body being eviscerated in milliseconds.

Nothing. Not even a gust of wind.

When your eyes open, he's grinning at you.

"See?" He says, "Not even a scratch."

He's right. Your clothes aren't even rustled, but the evidence is there. The carpet below you is shaved and cleaned off. And the wall closest to you has cracks on it.

You look back up at him.

"I said I believed you."

He shrugs. "Doesn't hurt to make sure we're on the same page." His smile is starting to look less scary and more annoying.

Your mind still struggles to keep up with all the information you've been given. The typhoon of anxiety is coursing through you.

"So, then....why this?" You mention to the handcuffs.

"Just a little confirmation you won't go crazy and destroy the place." He supplies happily. "If jujutsu doesn't work on you, then bindings and talismans definitely won't do a thing. Looking back, abduction probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world. I would've figured something else out, but time wasn't on our side in this case. Especially if we wanted you alive."

You pale at that. He notices.

"What, you thought I'd be the only person who noticed you? You're an anomaly. In our world, that's dangerous. Also, the bounty on your head is a pretty nice incentive for people to get the job done."

"A bounty?"

He grins, and the number he gives makes your mouth hang open.

"Yup, pretty crazy, right? Anyway, until everything settles down, you and I are roomies!" He claps. "Isn't that exciting!?"

You glance at him. Then, in the room. Then, at your cuffs. Everything was going so fast. The only constant was him.

"So, I'm not really a prisoner?" You ask. "I could just...leave, right?"

"Sure you could. If you hear all that and still wanna go, I won't stop you. Promise." He nods. "But you'd be dead as soon as you step out of the apartment."

It's not a threat. It's a promise. And not from him. That makes it worse.

This is insane. All of this is insane; who'd believe any of it? But his powers....that can't be faked. As well as everything that he told you. Why would he lie? What reason could he have to deceive you?

"Okay," you say hesitantly, "just one more thing."

The man leans in.

"What's your name?"

He smiles.

Becoming Gojo's roommate was an easy transition.

You’ve always been someone who goes with the flow. Becoming someone's consenting captive isn't a struggle once you get used to it. A few days in and you and your 'captor' have fallen into an easy rhythm. It's easy to grow trusting of him, especially when there are others who can vouch for him.

"You should be arrested." Ieiri mumbles, checking your wrists.

"What? I can't believe you're upset with me." Gojo responds though he doesn't sound very panicked. "I was desperate!"

Ieiri shakes her head, continuing wrapping your wrists. Amid your panic during the first few hours in Gojo's apartment, you managed to sprain your wrists, trying to yank yourself out of the handcuffs. You wince when she presses on your bruised skin.

"Sorry," she says, voice flat. You smile anyway.

Ieiri was also a sorcerer, but she had a different technique. Instead of Gojo's destruction, hers revolved around healing. You've never really seen it in action ("My technique won't work on you; even then, it's a sprained wrist. You'll live."), but it sounded pretty powerful.

"I'm not upset." Ieiri continues. "But I'm surprised you're going along with all this." That sentence is directed at you.

You shrug while trying to keep still for her. "He was pretty convincing."

Ieiri raises a brow, before ultimately deciding she doesn't care.

"Again, I'm very sorry about all this." Ijichi pipes up. Ever since he entered Gojo's flat, he's been doing nothing but begging for your forgiveness for Gojo's abrupt actions. Apologetic, but not very shocked. You're assuming this isn't the first time Gojo has done something like this.

Gojo's allies were very different from each other, you ultimately decided.

“We thought we’d have more time to approach you,” he continues with a nervous smile, “we never expected the clans to move so quickly.”

“Clans?” You ask, “What clans?”

Ijichi gives Gojo a look. Gojo looks away, whistling. Eventually, Ijichi’s shoulders drop.

“Some minor clans with dwindling jujitsu sorcerers.” He gives. “And then the bounty happened and well…” he trails off.

You nod. “So, when will everything go back to normal?”

Gojo grins. Ieiri sighs. It’s Ijichi who gives the most concrete response.

You look at the three of them. “Or will things ever go back to normal?”

”It’s hard to say,” Ijichi says, “news travels fast in the jujutsu world, but it’s not improbable. Miyashiro will let us know eventually.”

"Miyashiro?”

To answer your question, Ijichi pulls out his phone. You stare at a picture of yourself. But you know you’ve never been in that restaurant before.

“It’s his technique.” Ijichi tells you. “Flesh manipulation. For the time being, Miyashiro will pose as you and can hopefully air out any potential bounty hunters. He’s the perfect man for the job.”

You nod, a bit skeptical. “Isn’t this a bit dangerous? Aren’t people trying to kill me?”

Ijichi tucks away his phone. “Miyashiro is one our best. He'll be fine.” He assures.

Satisfied with your answers, you nod. Ieiri pulls away after she finishes wrapping your hand. Gojo claps his hands together.

“See, roomie? You’re in great hands!” He chirps. You nod, if only to seem compliant.

Apart from Gojo himself, Ieiri and Ijichi are the only ones who know about your predicament, his most trusted people. The rest of the world is unaware that there's someone posing as you, nor that you've gone into hiding. Not your friends. Not even your family. ("It's for the best," Ijichi explained when you voiced your worries, "but we promise, once the bounty is down, we'll return you back to your life. It'll be like nothing ever happened.").

Settling in barely takes a week. Gojo's nice enough to lend you his room, more than happy to set up in the living room. Despite how you two 'met', he's quickly proven to be a nice guy.

Nice. Just nice.

To be honest, you don't know all that much about Gojo. He's letting you stay in his home, but you don't see him all that much. Gojo is gone pretty much all day. Sometimes, he's gone for days on end. The apartment feels more like yours than his.

"I'm the strongest." He told you when you asked. You don't know what he means by that, so you didn't pry.

Despite the awkwardness, you don't mind the distant relationship. The man probably has his day packed with hunting down demons and this school he talked about.

The change doesn't happen until two weeks after you move in.

You weren't allowed to have a phone, nor any internet access, so you mostly spent your time doing hobbies. You've always wanted to learn to crochet, and now you finally had time to actually learn. Drawing also took some hours out of your day. And eventually, you moved onto cooking.

Ijichi was more than happy to grab you the grocery items when you asked. When you insisted on paying him back, he declined profusely. He was actually the one who organized getting your things and really moving you in. You have another thing you owe these people.

Cooking was a steep learning curve. Before, you'd only made simple sandwiches and curries, so the food starting out wasn't the best. But you enjoyed the journey more, rather than the end result. Pretty soon, you became pretty good at it.

Gojo wasn't home often these days, so you jump when the front door clicks open. He takes off that blindfold he's always wearing, blinking a couple times before his blue gaze settles on you in the kitchen.

"What's all this?" He cocks his head. He isn't smiling.

Oh no. You remembered getting permission to use his kitchen, but maybe he hadn't expected you to go this far? The kitchen is a mess. There's flour everywhere. You still hadn't washed the cutting board, nor the knives.

"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I can clean up and-"

He waves his hand. "It's fine. I'm not mad, I just..." He drifts off.

You suddenly have a feeling that you might've misread this entire situation.

"Would you like some?" You ask. "I think I made too much."

"I could eat," he says.

You smile.

A few moments later, the two of you are settled on the table. Gojo's never been so quiet before. In the short time you've known him, he's always been boisterous and playful. Now, he's silent. Staring at the food.

You hold your breath when he takes his first bite.

"It's good." He says, his mouth full. It's cute. "Really, really good. Damn."

You laugh out of nerves.

"You think so? I'm glad! It was my first time trying out this recipe and I wasn't sure if it'd turn out well and..." you're rambling, you know that. You can't help yourself.

"No, it's good. Real good," he says. It's silent again, but not as uncomfortable this time. The only thing you hear is the clanking of silverware and the hum of the lights. Outside the window, the city lights twinkle.

You're on your last bite when he speaks again.

"'been a while since I've had a homecooked meal." He starts with a slight laugh. "Kinda' forgot what it's like."

You think of the fridge. How it was only ever stacked with protein shakes and instant meals. Gojo was a sorcerer. The strongest. You think you get what that means now.

"I wouldn't mind doing this more often," you say.

He looks at you with the prettiest blue you've ever seen. The color of a bright cloudless sky.

"I think I'd like that."

Who ever said the phrase 'the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach' was onto something. Your friendship with Gojo bloomed after that night. On the seldom nights he came home, dinner was made and sitting on the table. It took a few days for the two of you to warm up enough to talk to each other. Once Gojo got going, it was a lot harder to shut him up. He talked about his school, his work as a teacher for other jujutsu sorcerers. You liked the way he talked about his students. Nothing but pride and affection .

On the nights he didn't come home, you'd save the leftovers in the fridge. They were usually gone by the morning.

He was around a lot more after that night. Not that you minded, it was his house. You just didn't get a few things about him. For example, that blindfold of his. Why wear it when it was clear he couldn't see with it on?

You decide to bring it up the third time he nearly runs you over.

"It's part of my technique." He explains. "The six eyes. They're basically cursed energy x-rays. The blindfold just limits their strength."

You were lounged on the sofa watching TV while he was plopped right next to you. He's switched his blindfold for his glasses.

"Oh," you say when it clicks, "and since I block people's abilities you..."

"Yup! Can't see you at all!" Gojo happily fills in. "It doesn't help that you're so quiet. Maybe I should put a bell on you."

You laugh, but it doesn't sound like he was joking.

"What's it like?" You ask, turning to him, "Seeing the way, you see? What-what do you see?"

"Everything." Gojo shrugs.

You frown. "That's not very descriptive."

He laughs. "Here, wanna try?" He takes off his glasses, handing them over. "These things are real popular with the ladies."

He's avoiding the question, but you don't bother chasing him for it. Instead, you grab the lenses, pulling them over your eyes. You expect to see the secrets of the universe. Instead, you see nothing but darkness. Though, that might be the point.

"Everything, hm?" You ask, when you take them off. "That sounds exhausting."

He takes them back with a grin. "It is! My eyes hurt so so much! You should pity me and make matcha tiramisu."

You laugh, drawing back. "That's what this is about? To guilt trip me into making dessert for you?"

"Did it work?"

You think for a moment.

"Get me the ingredients, and I'll see."

He cheers but doesn't fully answer your question until the episode ends when you've bid him goodnight and are about to return to the bedroom.

"You're blurry from far away."

When you look at him, his glasses are gone, tucked under his collar. It's night, but the sky still stares down at you. His usual smile is gone, stretched into a line you can't place.

"I can see down to molecules, atoms. Not you."

You look at him, his eyes. The beautiful curse they are.

You force yourself to take the first step. Then another. Then another. When you're right in front of him, when he's towering over you, you open to your mouth.

"What do you see, Gojo?"

"Everything." He honestly replies.

Everything. Not just cursed energy. Down to cells, molecules, atoms. You can't fathom how much that is, the essence of everything. What's that like? Being able to see the universe so much that it hurts? So much so that it makes him want to wear a blindfold and never see anything again.

But you're blurry. Gojo can't see you the way he sees others.

You reach your hands up slowly like you're approaching a wild animal. In some ways, maybe that's what Gojo is: unpredictable, able to wield the power of space—power that's useless against you.

You cover his eyes. He doesn't stop you.

"What do you see, Satoru?"

He doesn't speak, and you're afraid he's forgotten how.

"Nothing." Quiet, barely more than a whisper.

He slouches ever so slightly, leaning into your hands like some weight's been lifted. It makes you smile.

When you try to pull your hands away, his wrap around your wrist, keeping you there. So you stay—for as long as he wants.

It starts something of a tradition between the two of you. Not every night, not even most nights, but every so often, Satoru would grow quiet, shift in a particular way. You hoped it was therapeutic for him, a break rather than a glimpse of what could have been. You hoped you were helping.

And, if you were torturing him, hopefully, you won't be for long.

"How much longer do you think I have to do this?" You ask.

He hums, clearly not paying attention. You two were in the kitchen, making some sweet he saw trending on the internet. Well, you were doing all the work. Satoru kept trying to steal the batter.

"You know. Sleeping under your roof, eating all your food, stealing you bed." You urge, while whisking.

"You're acting like I've been keeping you in the attic, roomie." Satoru pouts. "C'mon, I haven't been that bad, have I?"

"I'm asking for your sake rather than mine," you tell him. "I'm sure you'll be thrilled to have your house back, and your bed. When will everything settle down?"

His blindfold is on, as it usually is. To help him out, you've taken to wearing squeaky slippers around the house. He'd offered to buy you one of those cat collars with bells. You declined.

He's looking in your direction. You know he can't see you, but you can still feel his eyes on you. It's a strange feeling.

"There's talks of taking down the bounty," Satoru finally says, losing his playful tone, "just rumors, nothing concrete. Worst comes to worst, we'll have to relocate you somewhere overseas."

Yeah, you were worried about that. Leaving everything behind, your home, your friends, your family, because your life was in danger. You hoped it wouldn't have to come to that.

"We have a couple of options, though," Satoru says, "negotiations, for one."

You perk up at that. "Negotiations?" You ask.

He nods. "Right now, you're under my protection. Unofficially. I could pull some strings, get those old geezers at the academy to take you in as some special assistant."

You tilt your head. "Like at the school that you teach, right?"

He nods. "We have a case like yours attending the school, too. I think you and him would get along."

"Your ability could be pretty useful to us. You might even get out in the field every so often." Satoru continues. "A special technique like that would be wasted down here."

Special. He's said that before. You can't remember when, but you know he's right. You're an anomaly, but you can use your abilities for good. But could you really do that? Risk your life every day? Lose pieces of yourself like that?

"I don't really feel special," you say, "I don't want to be special either." You glance at him. "Is that a bad thing?"

Even blindfolded, somehow, his eyes find yours.

"No," he says, no judgment in his voice, "it just makes you human."

Relief. You can feel it sinking through your veins. Part of you feels guilty. Satoru is right; you could do a lot. But you...you don't want to end up like him.

That makes you feel even worse, but then you catch something in his tone.

"You sound like you're not very human," you say back. You're teasing, but it falls flat.

He hums. It's not quite the response you were looking for. It takes a second for him to start up again.

"When I was younger, people used to call me creepy."

You stare at him.

"What?."

He grins, but it's not his usual one.

"It's true." He shrugs. "Mostly, it was 'cause of my eyes. They called them unnerving. Monstrous. My folks were always a creative bunch." He says it so casually, but you can hear the bite on his voice. It's phrased as a joke, but it isn't.

You put down your whisk, giving him your full attention.

"That's not true," you respond, "you know that, right? You aren't a monster. Monsters aren't as kind as you are."

"Oh?" He tilts his head. "Maybe I'm using my kindness as a lure to trap you. Guess you just fell for it, roomie. 'thought you were smarter than that." You roll your eyes.

"Okay, fine, I yield. You're a monster. But out of all the monsters in the world, I'd pick you."

For a moment, there's silence in the kitchen. Then-

"So cheesy!" Satoru laughs. He reaches over, roughly pinching your cheek. "Who knew you could say such cute things, roomie."

You slap his hands away, now extremely annoyed.

"Nevermind. I take it back," you retort. "I'd run away as far as I could from you."

"Good, you should," he replies. "I won't stop you."

You scoff.

"Maybe that's why everyone thought you were creepy." You go back to your whisking. "It's not your eyes, you just say a lot of ominous shit."

Despite how peaceful it is, making desert, cooking, and acting domestic, it can't last forever. The world was still hunting for you, and it had no problems reminding you of that.

One night, you wake up to the sounds of hushed talking.

It's coming from the living room. Multiple voices. Quiet but urgent. You're used to the noise. Satoru has this habit of blasting terrible soap operas at 2 am. You don't think that man sleeps. Over time, you've gotten used to at least one disturbance.

But this feels different. It's enough to rub the sleep out of your eyes, making you pad over to the hall.

They hear you before they see you. Satoru's apartment has creaky floorboards. Ijichi tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. Ieiri just looks away. Satoru is leaning back against the couch, legs crossed. He's frowning. That's how you know something isn't right.

"Is everything okay?" You ask anyway.

Ijichi gives a tight grin.

"Everything's fine." He's quick to console. "We-we were just-"

"Stop." Satoru immediately cuts in. He's wearing his blindfold. You can't tell what he's thinking.

"We're not hiding it. Everyone involved should know."

Ijichi deflates. You think Ieiri sneers.

Satoru beckons you closer with long fingers. You step forward. They're sitting around a computer. You peek at the screen.

Instantly, you wish you hadn't.

There were pictures of you. Dead. Your body parts were strewn across the floor. Your hands were broken in every other way. Your legs were in pieces. Your head snapped clean off, blood oozing from your appendages like you were just a packet of liquid. One of your eyes was missing from its socket. The other was crushed. But it wasn't you, it was-

"Miyashiro. At least, what's left of him." Satoru gives.

The doppelganger, the guy who was covering for you. He was supposed to be one of their best; what happened to him?

What was going to happen to you?

They're talking again. At least, you think they are. Their words are muffled, filtered through water. You can't make out what anyone is saying. Your heart's beating too fast. It's pounding through your ears. You can only stare at the picture, what was left of him. Someone's touching you. A hand on your back.

"Roomie, hey," Satoru's voice comes.

The pounding stops. You look up at him.

Angelic. It's the only word you could think of. His snow-white hair was pretty, falling elegantly down his face. He'd taken his blindfold off. Blue eyes, sparkling, cleansing. Purifying, like the Ganges river.

How could anyone think a beautiful sight like this was monstrous?

He calls your name, your real name, and you break.

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. And you're sobbing, tears of everything flowing down your face.

Hands, hesitant, unsure, rest on your back. And then Satoru's holding you as tightly as he can.

He's warm. It's all you can think as you shake in his hold.

He's warm.

"I won't have to worry about that if I just gave in, hm?" You ask.

It was a couple of days later from your episode. Satoru had convinced you to give one of his soap operas a shot. On-screen, a woman slapped her cheating husband.

Satoru was lounging beside you, feet propped up on the coffee table. You want to tell him off, but it's his house.

"If you went to the school, you mean?" He asks. "Probably. You'd be a lot freer. Won't have to sit in a cramped apartment all day. 'sides, jujutsu tech is always on the lookout for fresh talent. The higher-ups would be ecstatic to have someone like you under their thumb."

"But I'd have to become a sorcerer." You say the unspoken.

Gojo nods. "Yeah, you would."

And you don't want that. To face curses, to face death every day. You know you can't handle that. You aren't strong, like Satoru.

"I'm sorry," you say.

He laughs. "For what?"

You shrug as the on-screen couple makes up again. "For being...a coward, I guess."

He thinks for a moment.

"It's not about bravery," he says in the end, "being a sorcerer is just...that. A sorcerer. It's a job. A title. Only a special few can do it. The crazy ones."

His tone gets a bit playful.

"No offense, roomie, but I don't think you got enough crazy in you."

"That's a compliment, actually." You correct. He ignores you.

"'sides, I like you staying here." Satoru declares, stretching his arms out on the couch. "Who'd feed me? It'd be horrible to go back to ramen again."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Who else will wake at 2 am because of your whining to make wagashi?"

"See! You get it!" Satoru grins. You can't force the smile off your face.

The husband's mistress has entered the set. The wife is confident that her husband will choose her. She's left heartbroken all over again. You don't get how she couldn't see it. The red flags were all there, and still, she was left blindsided. Never saw it coming. She trusts too easily, you decided.

"Also, I like having you here," Satoru says.

You glance at him. He's watching the screen.

"It's...nice." He admits after a bit. "To have company like this. It reminds me of back when I was younger. When the two of us lived in the dorms."

When he was a student? Who was he talking about? You don't pry. It's clear he isn't talking to you.

"I'm glad you're here," Satoru says.

Lightly, you bump shoulders with him. Infinity doesn't stop you.

"You're a sweet monster." You tell him.

He gives a secret grin.

Every once in a while, Gojo peeks into the bedroom while you're sleeping.

He's subtle about it, doesn't make too much noise. You're a light sleeper, so it takes little to nothing to wake you up.

He doesn't do anything. He stands there, shuffles here and there, hovering by the foot of the bed. You just pretend to be asleep in those cases, evening out your breaths, closing your eyes. It's always the same. He loiters around for a minute, and then he's shutting the door behind him.

It's strange, but you try not to think too much of it. He was probably looking for something. It's his room after all.

It's just...strange.

You find it when you're looking through his book shelf.

He doesn't have anything interesting to read. It's mainly just historical novels. You're perusing through one before a photograph falls out of the pages.

It's tiny, barely larger than your palm. It only takes a second to realize what you're looking at.

"Found your baby pictures." You gleefully tell Satoru when he comes back.

"What?" He tilts his head; you wave the photo in front of him. When he tries to take it, you pull back.

"Tiny Satoru!" You squeal. "Who knew you were once so small? I always thought you were born six feet over."

It's a simple photograph, a little aged, but still clear. Satoru looks about eight, standing between a man and a woman. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. He isn't wearing sunglasses or a blindfold. Doll-like blue eyes. You don't feel like you're looking at a child. He's too-

"Are those your parents?" You ask, letting him take the photograph from you.

"No," he says, "my caretakers."

Caretakers. Not nannies, or anything else. It felt so clinical. You lean against his shoulder, still staring at the photograph.

"You look cute." You finally say. When you peak over, a hint of a smile is twitching on his face. "But I totally agree with everyone. You look creepy. Like one of those children from the exorcist. Climbing over the walls."

"I never grew out of that phase." Satoru ponders. You laugh.

"What was it like?" You ask. "You said you're from a clan, right?"

"Exhausting." Satoru groans. "Never a break from training. I should go back and sue my folks for child abuse. I could get millions."

"I could help you with that." You pipe in. "I've never gone to law school, but I feel like I'd make a great lawyer."

"I'll keep that in mind." He promises teasingly before his smile fades.

"But that's the norm for most kids in jujutsu." He sighs. "Gotta' be perfect. Gotta' be the best, right from the beginning. There's a student I know who had a rough start, but she's the best in her class. Her clan didn't care about her potential. Those kids are all scary talented, they just need a bit of nurturing, that's all."

You stare at him. He catches you.

"What?" He asks, before his eyes widen. "Do I have a pimple?"

You shake your head. "For some reason, I feel like that's impossible for you." You tease.

"I'm just admiring you, I think. For being such a kind person."

"I thought we agreed I was a monster." Satoru points out.

This again. You roll your eyes.

"Fine, a good monster." You correct. "A monster, I know."

"The monster you know." He repeats

You want to ask him why he's so insistent on that. For some reason, you hold your voice.

Satoru's apartment had two bathrooms. Lately, the one in the bedroom has had some issues.

It's been awkward lately trying to share the only working bathroom. Satoru and you shower at around the same time, so you've opted to hold back your morning routine a little later. You still manage to catch each other. The amount of times you've accidentally caught him walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist would be too mortifying to admit.

But, so far, it's working. And you can't complain since you at least have one working bathroom. It's the little things.

Tonight, you wake up to your bladder urging you to move. And yet, your body still wants to sleep. You check the time. It's nearly 2 in the morning.

It takes a while to pull yourself up, unraveling yourself from the covers before you're trudging out the bedroom. Satoru's apartment is so dark. It's a completely different look compared to daytime. You feel your way with the walls, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. When you peek over at the living room, Satoru isn't there. He must not be coming home tonight.

The bathroom is shut, but there's a sliver of light bleeding under the door. Fuck, you did not shut the lights off last time. You need to be less careless.

At first, you think Satoru's hurt.

He looks hurt. He's hunched over, shaking shoulders, harsh breathing. You can only see his back, but he looks like he's in agony. You're about to step forward, ask what happened, and then you catch a glimpse of what he's clutching.

Pretty, blue, laced panties.

Your panties.

And you're close enough to hear his voice whispering your name. Over and over again.

"Fuck, fuck, baby, need you, just lemme-just lemme, all mine, all mine-"

He doubles over, tightening his grip on the edge of the sink. Your panties are damp.

You flinch, and in your moment of panic, you step back. Creaky floorboards.

Satoru looks up in the mirror. You don't move.

He takes his time. Placing his phone down. Adjusting his pants, washing his hands. You can only stand there, frozen. Staring. Staring until he's in front of you, looking right back.

You might have forgiven him if he had fumbled, laughed it off, became bashful. A human reaction. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. His eyes mirror that photograph. Doll-like, absolutely empty.

Monstrous.

Your eyes water. He turns blurry for a second.

Satoru steps aside. You wordlessly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't bother locking.

You don't know how long you stay there, quiet, shaking, your mind trying to piece together what you just saw. You stay there for hours. You stay there for seconds. Time stretches on like infinity itself, yet even then, it's too short.

You're alone with him. It's a thought you never even had until now. You're alone with him.

Satoru is outside. You don't look at him, staring at the floor, looking at the carpet, counting each strand. You keep your head down when you return to the bedroom.

He follows. You say nothing. You don't look. You don't look, even when the covers shift and he gets into bed behind you. You don't look, even when there's a hand on your shoulder. You don't look, even when there's a chest pressed against your back.

You shiver, you shake. You don't look. He says nothing, even when you break down completely.

You wake up alone the next morning.

You don't waste a second. You're stumbling through the room, picking up your clothes, packing everything that you need. You're so panicked that you manage to knock over an alarm clock.

It's habit to reach down and pick it up. Learned politeness to scrutinize it to make sure it isn't broken.

A black dot stares back at you.

A camera.

Horrible memories of last night come back. He was watching something on his phone.

You feel nauseous, about to give all over the floor. You need to go. You needed to get out of there.

The apartment is silent, like it always is when Satoru isn't here. You just hadn't noticed how cold it was, lifeless. It makes the pit on your stomach gap. You expect the windows to be bolted shut. They aren't. Sunlight streams through the glass. The front door is unbarred too.

It's easy to leave.

You stop anyway. One question.

Where would you go?

You can't go back home. Miyashiro's body still haunts you. His soul in your body, torn apart with such hatred and vitriol. Those people were still looking for you. The only reason you were still alive was because Miyashiro took your death bed.

You'd die if you went back home.

You can't go to jujutsu tech. You'd be expected to lay down your life, serve a maskless force that pretended to do good. You'd certainly die. Ripped apart by curses.

You'd be slaughtered if you went to the school.

Every route is treacherous, nearly impossible, full of dangers and unknowns.

At least, you know what Satoru wants.

He's made it clear since the beginning. You were just willfully ignorant. Oblivious on purpose. More than happy to ignore the red flags because you knew he was a kind person to his students, ignoring the dichotomy of his actions.

Two things can be right at once.

Satoru won't stop you if you run. He told you that himself. You could leave if you wanted, and he won't follow. But every other path is filled with an intangible value, and Satoru is the monster you know.

Your hand falls away from the doorknob.

You get started on dinner.

You're still there when Satoru comes back. You say nothing. Neither does he. Dinner is a quiet affair. He doesn't talk about his day, he doesn't talk about his students. When you wash the plates, he's quietly standing behind you. When you get out of the shower, he's waiting outside the bathroom.

You can't bring yourself to look at him until you get into bed. Your eyes trail up, past his legs, his shoulders, his neck. Looking into Satoru's crystal blue eyes.

Blank. Numb. Empty.

You think of the cameras. You think of your stolen underwear.

You think of how much his eyes must hurt right then.

You raise one hand out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt. It's barely a tug, but the monster follows like he's weightless, crawling into bed. He's too big to hold properly, but he sinks into your body anyway. His forehead rests against your chest. His eyes close. You don't feel that ice anymore.

“What do you see, Satoru?”

“Nothing.” A pause. A stilted breath.

“Nothing but you.”

He was right in the end. Satoru is a monster. There's no other word that can describe him. Inhuman, far above humanity itself. But he's the monster you'd pick, every single time.

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru #yandere x reader #dark gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk x reader #dark jjk x reader #minor character death

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ifwdominicfike · 18 days ago

Text

you give inexperienced bsf!matt his first handjob

── .✦. ──

“are y’sure you’re ready baby? need to hear you say it.” you coo softly, poor boy could barely get a word out without whimpering. “y-yes.. please— just wan’ you to t-touch me!” his hips bucking up as you palm him through the thin layer of his sweatpants.

“kay’ sweet boy..” you begin to slide off his layers, the feeling of the fabric rubbing up against him makes him whine. hiding his face from embarrassment as he let out those sweet sounds you craved to hear. “dont hide from me baby, lemme see your face. yeah?” he slowly brings down his hand, opting to grip onto the bedsheets instead. “please y/n.. need y-your hand”

you smile at his desperation, once his sweats are gone you hook your fingers in his boxers and bring them down just enough to his mid thigh. you’re met with his hard cock, he twitches from the cool air exposed to him. “look at you.. mm— y’so big and pretty baby.” your hands slide up and down his thighs, purposely not touching him where he needs you most. “pl-pleaseee” he whines “please what? don’ know what you want unless you tell me baby..”

he squirms under your touch, growing more frustrated each second “pl- fuck! to-touch me, do anything! please i ne-need you” he pleads, trying his hardest not to do the job himself “good boy, s’proud of you sweet boy. just one more thing, kay?” your hand moves up to his mouth “spit baby, go ahead..” you coax him, a sweet smile adoring your face “y-yes ma’am”

after he does so you bring your hand down to his leaking cock “o-oh! fuck— ye-yes..” he groans, throwing his head back against the pillow “yeah? that feels good huh.. better than your own hand?” he vigorously nods his head, knuckles turning white due to his grip on the bed “f-faster baby.. please!” he breathes out “of course baby, can’t deny you when you sound like that..” your grip tightens around him and your pace quickens “oh- sh- shit! m’gonna fuck!” he hurriedly says.

“y’gonna what sweetheart? come on lemme hear that sweet voice” you tease “come! fuck- fuck! m’gonna come. d-don’ stop.. mmm” his hips moving up in rhythm with the thrusts of your hand “oohh look at you, soaking my hand like a slut. s’that what you are? just a greedy slut who needs nothing but attention, yeah?” your degrading words send him over the edge, thick ropes of white shoot out from him. “fuck! yes- yes, yes!”

“good boy, look at that.. all y’needed was a little bit of mean words and you’re a mess already.” you slowly removed your hand, looking over at matt all spent with his head thrown back and eyes shut from his previous orgasm. once he opens his eyes he’s met with the sight of you licking up the mess that he made.

“fuck..” his breathing heavy, shutting his eyes once more to help him calm down until he feels his overstimulated cock in your hold again. “oh you thought we were done baby?”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

“WE LOVE YOU SUB!MATT” we all say in unison. i live for sub!matt idc i need that man whimpering and whining underneath me NOW. im surprised i wrote this IN ONE SITTING?? (if there’s errors, shhh) anyway, enjoy bye i love youu !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela

#— ⋆ ˚｡ writings .ᐟ ꩜#matt sturniolo imagine #sub!matt #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo blurb #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader

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kitten4sannie · 1 year ago

Text

ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut <3

summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing

a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33

song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)

“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”

“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”

She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”

You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”

“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.

“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.

“Where are you going?”

Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”

The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.

“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.

San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.

Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”

Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.

You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.

He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.

Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.

“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.

You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”

Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”

“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”

One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.

As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.

“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”

You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.

San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”

Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”

Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”

And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”

“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.

“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”

“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.

Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”

“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.

However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”

Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.

“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”

“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.

“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”

“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.

“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”

“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”

You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.

“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.

Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”

Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.

Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”

San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”

Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.

San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.

“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.

Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.

Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.

San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.

Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.

“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #scheduled post #ateez #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #san ateez #choi san #san smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #san x reader

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koqabear · 1 year ago

Text

love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6

“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”

yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 10.6K

warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it

smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)

Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-

Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess.

It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again.

“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”

But sometimes, he just can’t help it.

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it.

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you.

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this.

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you.

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him.

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight.

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear.

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing.

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest.

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all.

But for you, anything could change.

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already.

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you.

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself.

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!”

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina.

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there.

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you.

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern.

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him.

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry.

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground.

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in.

“For existing.”

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word.

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes.

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action.

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.”

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them.

This was… progress.

But you’re still mad at him.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no.

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway.

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort.

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time.

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level.

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you.

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him.

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes.

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead.

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared.

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly.

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence.

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s.

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation.

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears.

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him.

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself.

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds.

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud.

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time.

I miss you so so so so so much.

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left.

That was your second mistake.

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access.

I’m sorry.

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another.

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another.

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds.

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions.

There’s a small pile of hearts next to him.

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance.

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table.

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus.

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions.

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take.

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again.

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically.

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out.

There goes all his progress.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood.

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours.

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you!

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief.

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.)

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip.

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What?

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before.

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache.

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog.

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar.

Yeonjun misses you more than anything.

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face.

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further.

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you.

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously.

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated.

Choi Yeonjun.

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification.

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends.

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time.

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation.

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?”

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was.

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this.

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence.

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ.

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights.

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more.

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture.

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course.

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you.

Your meal was free.

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity.

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through.

Yet another mistake on your part.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened.

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you.

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will.

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station.

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly.

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.”

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place.

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun.

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him.

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it.

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions.

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now.

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong.

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved.

It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call.

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.”

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.”

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hope you’re not making a mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too.

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here.

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief.

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!”

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice.

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him.

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!”

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess.

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now.

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra.

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…”

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse.

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!”

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically.

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move.

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you.

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him.

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him.

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you.

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners.

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans.

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes.

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully.

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him.

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more.

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh.

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it.

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation.

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears.

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin.

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired.

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily.

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you.

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder.

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause.

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight.

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call.

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt angst #txt fluff #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun ff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun oneshot #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun smut #sub yeonjun #sub txt

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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year ago

Note

miguel + "you can take it" please 🤭

Crazy

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Fucking filthy. P in v, biting, oral (f receiving), pain (he's big, as we all know). It's late for me, sorry for any mistakes.

Pls enjoy and let me know what you think!

MDNI

...

It was a new position.

He’d never taken you from behind before, ass in the air and completely exposed—entirely at Miguel’s mercy.

He ran his large hands down your sides and over the smooth globes of your ass, giving them both a little slap. You moaned, knees pressed into the mattress and face buried in his sweet-smelling sheets. Your back was impossibly arched as Miguel ate from you, keeping a large hand flat against your shoulder blades to keep you exactly how he wanted.

His expert tongue swirled over your sensitive nub, sucking on it gently as he listened to your gentle pants and mewls. You could feel him smiling against your cunt, a little puff of air released from his nose in amusement.

“W-what?” You panted, raising your head just a bit so he could hear you properly.

“Nada,” he chuckled, giving your ass a messy kiss, “you sound cute.” You huffed, ready to retort with a slick response but cut yourself short when Miguel began to flick his tongue in a way that had your toes curling, your hips moving to chase his eager mouth.

He dragged his tongue through your swollen folds, his mouth making obscene noises as he sucked all your juices, dipping into your hole and thrusting inside every so often.

“M-Miguel.” You whined—not for the first time that night—your hands extending outward to fist his sheets, nails biting into your palms through the thin cotton fabric.

“Feels good?” He murmured, his words muffled by your glistening cunt.

“M-mhm.”

Your legs were spread so far apart you thought your pelvis would snap in half if it weren’t for Miguel stabilizing you. His hands held your cheeks open as he devoured you ravenously—like a starved man. He began licking so viciously that you were reaching your peak, legs trembling and hole twitching around his tongue.

"Fuck, Miguel, I'm gonna—"

"Come for me."

That did it. You cried into his sheets, tears welling in your eyes as your cunt convulsed, filling Miguel's waiting mouth with your essence. He groaned, feasting on your tangy juices with powerful sucks and long licks with his flat tongue.

“You fuckin’ taste amazing.” Miguel hummed into your swollen pussy, giving it a messy kiss, his nose buried deep in your folds and taking in your heavy scent.

He gave you about thirty seconds to catch your breath, getting on his knees and pressing his hips against your ass. He lowered his head to spit over your hole, watching it drip down your crack and flow over your puckering cunt.

You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut, his fingers skimming through your tender folds to spread the mess. Your muscles tensed at his touch, not because you didn’t like it, but because you knew that soon his cock would be breaching your walls, splitting you open.

“Relax, baby,” Miguel cooed, bringing a hand to the nape of your neck and lightly dragging it down to the curve of your spine in comfort, “I need you to relax. No quiero lastimarte.”

You knew it would hurt. It always does at first, no matter the position. Miguel was just so big—and equally smug about it.

He glided his hard cock through your folds, completely coating the underside in your slick before lining himself up. You could feel his swollen head right over your sensitive cunt, teasing it a bit.

“¿Estas lista?” He asked, not daring to move until you gave him permission to do so. You nodded your head, bracing yourself for impact.

“Lemme hear you say it.” He said, slapping your ass gently.

“I-I’m ready.” You breathed, gasping when he carefully notched his tip into your entrance, griping your hips, and pushing in a few inches. You let out a pained moan, your pussy being stretched raw in the new position.

Miguel paused, letting your walls adjust to his girth, petting your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

“I know, baby, I know. ¿Te duele?“ You sniffed with another simple nod of your head, because yes, it did hurt, but you were tough, and it wasn’t the first time you were taking his cock. You could do it. You would do it.

Miguel continued to soothe you in the way he knew best, draping over you to place kisses on your bare shoulders, mindful of not shifting his hips too much. You felt your cunt flutter around him, fighting to accommodate his massive size. You panted, squeezing his cock, catching his slight intake of breath.

“Miguel.”

“Mm?”

“Move, please.” Miguel wasted no time, gripping your hips again and continuing to push forward, pressing in a couple of inches more. You cried out, shoving your face into the sheets as you fought against the pain.

Maybe you couldn’t do it.

“Miguel, I can’t—pull out, I-I can’t do it, you’re too fucking big.” Miguel was panting above you, fighting with every nerve in his body to not ram into you. You were so tight and wet and so fucking inviting.

“Don’t give up on me yet,” he groaned, “you can take it, baby, si puedes.”

“Fuuuuck,” you whined when he slowly pushed his cock deeper, “y-you’re so fucking big.”

“Almost there.” He reassured you, pressing firmly until he was balls deep, hips pressed snuggly against your ass. “Fuck, you see? You did it.” His praise went straight to your core as he pressed another kiss to your shoulder.

He began to gently grind into you, taking his time before slowly pulling himself out and pushing back in. He did it again, and again, and again, picking up speed until he had you mewling beneath him, your cunt providing him with the juices needed to easily fuck into you.

It felt good, so fucking good. The sheets were damp with your tears and drool, your mouth open as he repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Your eyes fluttered, your throat dry from your screams, and pussy squelching around him so loudly, it was the only thing he was really focusing on.

Miguel started getting mouthy, groaning, and whimpering, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were, how tight you gripped his cock. The stretch was unbelievable in this position, his cock seemingly reaching past your cervix and straight into your stomach—utterly stuffed to the brim.

“Feels good, mama?” He grunted, suddenly lifting you up so that your back was against his chest. He pressed his mouth to your ear, one arm holding you around the waist while the other searched for your swollen clit, circling it with the pad of two fingers. “This cock making you feel good?”

You wept, cheeks wet with tears as he rammed into you violently now, your pussy creaming all over him.

“I’m s-so close,” you cried, feeling your climax approaching rapidly, your hips moving in sync with his to meet his thrust. “F-fuck, Miguel, I’m coming.” As soon as you said the words he latched on to your neck, sinking his fangs into you with a moan. You were overstimulated, your body trembling in his arms as you came over his cock, your sticky juices covering his toned abdomen.

“Mmm, fuck, you’re squeezing me tight,” he panted in your ear, his thrusting growing sloppier and uncoordinated before a vicious moan ripped from him, holding you in his trembling arms as he came, and filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. “Goddamn, you’re gonna kill me.” You could feel his chest heaving on your back, his breathing erratic as he slowly calmed himself down.

“Not before you rip me in half with that massive thing you call a cock.” You answered weakly. Miguel buried his face as deep as he could into your neck, chuckling softly, tongue darting out to lap at the tiny wound he inflicted.

“Mi muñequita,” he mumbled sleepily, “you took me so well, hm? Knew you could do it. You're a champ, baby.” His cock began to soften just enough for his spend to leak out, coating you both in sticky cum and sweat.

You hummed, reaching back to run your fingers through his sweaty hair, turning your head so that he could meet you in a kiss. It was sloppy, like everything else, noisy in the silence of Miguel’s bedroom.

“Wanna go again?” You felt his lips pull into a grin, cock slipping out but hardening once again. You scoffed, lightly tapping his face.

“You’re crazy.” You yelped when he pushed you down against his bed in the same position you were in only a moment ago—chest flat against the mattress and ass up in the air to reveal your sopping cunt.

“Yeah,” he whispered, dragging his cock through your aching folds before pressing in, “I am crazy.”

...

Nada- Nothing

No quiero lastimarte- I don't want to hurt you

¿Estas lista?- Are you ready?

¿Te duele?- Does it hurt?

si puedes- yes you can

Mi muñequita- My little doll

#caro's 2k #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara reader #atsv #spiderverse

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con-dientes · 1 month ago

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Shared Smoke pt. 1

(TW: 1nc3st, b1g br0 x l1l s1s, 🍃 1nt0x)

I kinda rushed thru this so lemme clear some things up: I haven’t written since 8th grade on wattpad so pls dont kill me, thanks. Idk when I’ll be updating bc I have a really busy month 😭

I loved my brother. No matter how much of a jerk he was, I loved him, so when I caught him digging through my drawer for money, it didn’t bother me much.

“Hey, kiddo, I was just… uh, looking for you!” my older brother lies. I look at him, unimpressed.

“You were looking for me in my drawer?” I ask, glancing at my scattered panties. He freezes, realizing the mess he made. “I thought I saw a spider in here. Just making sure it was gone,” he stammers, but his twitchy movements give him away. I notice his withdrawals kicking in.

“Look, sis, I’m sorry. I really need some cash. Got any I can borrow?” His voice is strained, and I know he has no intention of paying it back. “I don’t have cash, bro,” I reply. “Gave it to the needy.”

He groans, rubbing his temples. “Come on, lil’ sis, not even a few bucks?” His desperation is hard to ignore. “I…” I hesitate, and he notices. He steps closer, his tone softening. “Please, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I need your help.”

“I… I don’t have money, but…” I struggle to meet his eyes. His eyes light up, sensing a chance. “But what, sis?”

“I have some weed…” I finally say. “Weed? Shit, that’s perfect,” he says, relief washing over him. “You’re a lifesaver.” His hand trembles as he reaches out. “Can I have some? Please? I promise I won’t smoke it here—I’ll go outside or something. You won’t even know.”

“Smoke it here… with me.” My brother’s eyes widen, surprise quickly turning into a grin. “Are you serious?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining, but… what brought this on?” We’ve always kept our habits separate. But if I’m offering now, who is he to refuse?

“Got a lighter, or should I grab mine?”

"I've got my stuff." I reply, bending over to look under my bed. He watches as I bend over to look under the bed, his eyes unconsciously trailing over my form. He shakes his head, trying to focus on the promise of getting high rather than his sibling's body. "Nice," he says, his voice a bit hoarse. "So, uh, where do you wanna to do this? Your room or mine?" He glances around, half-expecting our parents to burst in. Running a hand through his hair, he grins. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d want to smoke with me, sis. I’m kinda impressed.”

“We can do it in my bed…” I pull out my stash. “I… kinda need this high, too.” My brother’s eyebrows shoot up. “On your bed? Alright, cool,” he says, trying to sound casual. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching me. “You need a high too, huh? What’s going on?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern. “Everything okay?” Despite his own desperate need for a fix, he can't help but worry about his sibling. He leans forward, studying my face.

"Let's..." I bite my bottom lip, avoiding his question as I roll the joint. "...get high." I press the joint to his lips, and he looks surprised but takes it, inhaling deeply as I light it. Smoke fills the air, and he exhales, his body relaxing. "Fuck, that's good." He passes the joint back, a lazy smirk on his face. "Your turn," he says, his voice rough. "Didn't know you had it in you, sis."

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, big brother,” I reply, taking a hit. His eyebrows shoot up, surprise and intrigue flickering across his face. He takes another drag, holding the smoke before exhaling slowly. “Is that right?” he says, his voice low. “Sounds like there’s a whole side to you I’ve never seen.” He watches me through half-lidded eyes, the smoke curling around my face. There’s something different about tonight, something that's making his skin tingle in a way that has nothing to do with the weed. “So, what other secrets you been keeping from me?” he asks with a smirk. He leans back on his elbows, his body evident even through his clothes. "Cause I gotta say, I'm kinda digging this new side of you."

"Things you probably don't need to know." I reply softly, beginning to get high. I smile lazily, biting my bottom lip once more. "Fuck~ that feels good~"

My brother’s eyes soften as he watches me take a hit, my words and actions igniting something primal within him. The weed is starting to kick in, making everything feel hazy and intense. "Oh yeah?" he says, his voice low and gravelly. "Maybe I wanna know those things, baby sis. Maybe I wanna know everything about you." He leans in closer, the scent of smoke and something uniquely me filling his senses. His lip quirks into a smirk as he notices me biting my bottom lip. "Feels good, huh?"

The tension in his body is melting away, replaced by a warm, tingling sensation. He can't help but notice how raw I look right now, all relaxed and flushed.

"You look fucking hot like this, you know that?" The words slip out before he can stop them, fueled by the weed and the strange, electric atmosphere between them.

I laugh softly, playfully pushing him. "Don't say shit you don't mean, man!" His eyes widen at my playful push, a grin spreading across his face. "Who says I don't mean it? You're fucking beautiful, sis."

"Promise you're not saying that just because I'm your little sister?" I ask, blowing smoke on his face. He inhales the smoke I blow into his face, feeling it tingle pleasantly in his lungs. He holds it for a moment, then exhales slowly.

The high is starting to really hit him now, making his thoughts hazy and disjointed.

"No, I'm not," he says, shaking his head vehemently. His hair falls messily over his face as he leans in closer. "I've never seen you as just my little sister..." I gasp softly, the weed making me feel like this wasn't a big deal. I look at him, unsure of how to react.

My brother’s heart races as I gasp softly, the weed making them both feel uninhibited and reckless. He can't believe he just confessed his true feelings like that, but the high has stripped away his usual caution. "What?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "You never thought about it before? About us?"

"I... think we're both high." I reply. "Don't kill it, don't kill the vibe."

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scremogirl · 1 year ago

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✩𖤐☆𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄…

Men who are just a naturally dominate. He always takes the lead in making sure you’re okay. Whether that stems from his build/appearance or just who he is as a person. It doesn’t just have to be things that scream authority; it can be the little things too. Not batting an eye when he pulls out his wallet to pay the bill, placing a hand on your hip to gently shift you away from the roadside when walking, forcing you to drink water and eat food when he sees you’ve been struggling with keeping yourself together. That’s just who he is. That’s what everyone else thinks at least.

In the privacy of your home, when it’s just the two of you, the dynamic quickly changes.

︎ ⚠︎︎

“Pl-Please mommy, it feels so goood,” his moans fill the silence in your room. He struggles against the restraints that keep his legs spread and arms behind his back. You don’t let up in giving his cock firm strokes no matter how hard he pleads.

“Yea babyboy? It feels good?” He whines bucking his hips up as much as he can trying to create as much friction as possible.

“Please… ughh fuck… please Mommy I’ll never do it again I promiseee! Just please lemme touch you,”

“Hmmm. I don’t know. You think you’ve been a good boy today?”

“Yes, yes, yess. Ahh…please ma ima’boutta cum!”

“Yea? Oh babyy, you’re so cute. Gonna pump all your cum out, huh?”

“Ahhhh fuckkk, yes! Gonna make a mess just for you,” you bend down and only put the tip in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around and sucking lightly. You don’t break eye contact as yoir tounge flicks over his slit encouraging him. However, his pleasure is ripped away from him as he bucks his hips up a little to far making you gag. He lets out a big moan before realizing he fucked up.

“Mhmm, I’m sorry baby, m’so sorry please. It was an accident your mouth just felt so good I-” you press a finger to his lips and let out a series of tsks.

“Uh un. And you told me you were being good? You won’t get to feel me until you cover your chest in cum,” he whines at that struggling against his ropes. You just smile and give him a deep kiss. You both know he doesn’t actually mind.

ushijima , KYOTANI, Iwa, BOKUTO, Daichi, Aone, Worick, Choso, Yuji, AOI, Kisame, KYOJURO, sanemi, Uvo?, NOBUNAGA, Phinks, hal, DICK, Malleus???, kalim, Carter, Jack, ichigo?, shinji, Kaname, SHANKS, Smoker; YOUR FAV

-Sos❤️

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lueurjun · 1 year ago

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shy soobin as your boyfriend

shy bf! soobin x reader — loving soobin hours rn majorly<3 in which soobin is completely and utterly enchanted and captivated by you, enamored with all that you are.

oh you lucky lucky gorgeous specimen

he is fr the perfect man but ur just as perfect so you know what? MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

the way you met is pretty standard

you worked at the barista he liked to visit frequently

he visited the coffee shop twice a day just to see you

and you had no idea that he thought u were a lil cutie patootie so you were a little concerned by his caffeine intake

he would stay and have like 3 cups each visit just so he could see you for as long as possible

most of the time he would be trying to work up the courage to say something other than his order but he couldn’t get the confidence

and despite you being concerned for his health, you lowkey HIGHKEY got excited everytime he came in because he was just so???

perfect

like you’re sure you heard wedding bells the first time you saw him

it’s okay babe so did the rest of us

we’re all a little delulu for soobin

anyways one day you’ve had enough

running off like two hours of sleep, the delirium kicks in and you have a massive burst of confidence

so you write your phone number on the cup for his final order which is to go

and soobin doesn’t notice until he gets home and taehyun spots the number on the side

“who in their right mind decided to give you their phone number? are they okay? why would they want you?”

soobin’s kinda like ??

because first of all RUDE of taehyun to attack him like that unprovoked

and second of all WHY IS THERE A PHONE NUMBER ON HIS CUP

from what he saw, you were the only one on shift making his drinks so??

it had to be from you

omg. the poor boy nearly goes into cardiac arrest

because wtf does he do now? he can’t just text you

what if it’s an accident?

there’s no way he can embarrass himself like that

so he decides to leave it despite the agonising ache to do anything but that

once he’s out of the room taehyun’s little shit mode is activated

soobin may not have the confidence to text you

but he sure does

‘hi. is this the girl from the coffee shop?”

honestly your heart shits itself

because you totally were not expecting him to text you back

‘yeah. sorry if this is weird and unprofessional. you can totally get me fired- i mean-i’d like prefer you to not but you totally can… i’m not a creep though… i promise’

you totally nailed that babes

definitely didn’t come across as a creep

already taehyun ships it and decides he has to play matchmaker because he already knows you’re perfect for soobin

so he sets the two of you up on a date

soobin damn near cries when he finds out an hour in advance

“a date? what? i don’t know how to do that”

poor boy is STRESSED

but much to his surprise, he doesn’t totally mess things up

the date actually goes smoothly and he leaves you with a kiss on the cheek after setting up a second date

you both squeal when you part ways

you’re both so cute pls get married

lemme be your maid of honour

ONTO THE RELATIONSHIP BC THIS IS ALREADY LONG IM VERY SORRY

boyfriend soobin is straight out of a book istg

he’s so awkward but in the best way??

like he’s not afraid to show you affection and tackle you with love

but the second you do something as simple as kiss his cheek

BLUSHING STUTTERING MESS

you have him wrapped around your pinky finger

honestly you could probably tell him to jump into a river and he most likely would without any questions

follows behind you like a lost puppy despite towering over everything

holding onto the tips of your fingers letting you drag him along

fancy dinners happen but the two of you are more order in and play mario kart

he’d probably let you win the first few times but the second you gloat about it

nah he’s playing like there’s 100k on the line

BACK HUGS BACK HUGS BACK HUGS

BACK MF HUGS

he loves snuggling into your neck and inhaling your scent. it calms him down for sure

you do this thing where you gently slide your hands up the back of his shirt

AND HE GIGGLES EVERYTIME

silently sharing his food and drink with you

he just holds the straw or food to your mouth without saying anything

whenever he buys you flowers, he takes one out and keeps it for himself so he knows when it’s time to replace them

you also love buying him flowers

he gently didn’t know what to do with himself the first time you did it

“these are for me? no way- you didn’t-babyyy”

can you hear my cries?

sliding down the wall rn

his instagram is pretty much a y/n fan page

like genuinely his feed is just you

visits you during work and spends half of the time flirting with you and the other half stuttering over his sentences because you threw a compliment at him

also your concerns for his health lessened once you realized he only drank that much caffeine just because he wanted to see you

if anyone tries to flirt with him, he’ll incorporate you into the conversation

the other person will just be stood there whilst he rants about all of the things he loves about you

it’s a reflex. he just loves you sm

taehyun can’t tell whether he’s happy for you both or genuinely disgusted

“the happiness i caused for you both makes me severely sickened.”

cue beomgyu popping up like “ALSO WRITING YOUR NUMBER ON HIS COFFEE ORDER? REALLY Y/N? THATS SO LAME”

they’re super happy for you both tho they just won’t admit it

you and soobin are in your own little love bubble

two hopelessly in love puppies who are destined to be together

absolutely adorable.

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only-lonely-star · 3 months ago

Note

can you pls do a johnny cade smut where him and reader just broke up and they see each other at a party and they have really aggressive sex? thank you!

★ Mine ★

~ Johnny Cade ~

Warnings - This is a NSFW story. You and Johnny are not minors. Drinking, consensual tipsy intercourse, oral sex, choking, slapping, degradation, aggressive sex.

Summary - You spot a familiar face at a party…

Author’s Note - Thank you so much for the request!! This was so actually fun to write because it’s so 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 and kept me on my toes 😭. Enjoy!!🤍

Word Count - 2.1k.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You were anything but in the mood to party tonight. Your most recent breakup with your boyfriend, Johnny, left you in pieces. The constant nudge of your friend, Kelly, was aggravating you more than you'd thought. "Take a drink, come on," she pleaded, the tipsy gleam in her eye unmistakable. "You look a mess. This is a party, y'know..."

You uncrossed your arms, your gaze on the plastic red cup filled with a clear liquid. That shit was straight poison - you'd be vomiting all night from just a few sips. Although to take your mind off of Johnny sounded like a wonderful idea. Parties were supposed to be fun. Drinks, the men, the music - everything. So, you took the cup into your already clammy hands and took a considerably large sip.

"There ya go, drink up," Kelly chuckled, her hand giving your back an affectionate slap. The liquid nearly came right back out from the forceful touch.

You grimaced at the bitter feeling running down your throat, and how your mind already felt cloudy. Drinking was never your thing.

Kelly seemed to have ventured off by the time you glanced up from your cup. You could see her clinging onto a man you hadn't seen a day in your life, a signal to maybe find your own company for the night.

Wandering around the crowded house party felt intimidating as hell. So many options, so many choices of who you could sweet talk with for a bit - at least until Kelly found you. A hand swayed over your midsection, causing quite the disorientated stir from you. A taller man with blonde curls, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket pressed his chest flush against yours. "Lemme take you home," he coaxed, obviously just horny and lonely.

You gave your head a small shake, leaning your body fully against his. This was just a small distraction for you, you didn't plan on actually going home with this guy. He kept on rambling on about trying to get you in his bed, blah, blah, blah...it was all a blur. It wasn't until you registered a familiar pair of eyes boring into yours. Your wobbly legs had already brought you to the eyes before you knew it, pulling away from the other man's grasp. Your lips curled up to a smile, squinting your eyes to have a better look. "Johnny?"

Johnny's expression was priceless. A seething mix of jealousy and irritation was visible in his eyes. He grabbed onto your bicep with a firm grip, startling you in your drunken state. "The hell are you doing? We break up one week, and the next you're with some guy at a party?"

You were dazed, not knowing how to respond without upsetting him further. "It ain't like that, I don't even know him."

"Bullshit," he spoke gruffly, the anger in his voice clear as day. Johnny's grip only tightened, his eyes scanning the wild house party's atmosphere.

"It's not bullshit! Maybe if you didn't leave I could've been with you instead!" The words fell from your tongue in an agitated hiss.

Your bold choice of words caused him to yank your arm tighter, leading you away from the wall he was leaning against. You stumbled behind him, mind fuzzy and emotions swirling. You didn't question it - figuring he was going to take things up with the man you were with.

"You over me? That quick?" he asked, disbelief laced in his taunting tone. You shook your head vigorously, the tipsy state increasing your honesty with him. He'd taken you to a door, leading to what seemed to be a bathroom. The crowded hallway was littered with plastic cups, cigarettes, and articles of clothing such as shirts and panties.

"Good," Johnny replied simply, yanking you inside the bathroom. Others had clearly been in here, small spills of straight vodka all over the counter and floor.

You locked eyes with Johnny. It felt awfully similar to when the two of you would venture off to a bedroom or bathroom like this at a house party. Seeing him again caused a whirlwind of emotions, but mostly desire. You hadn't been fucked since before you two had that massive breakup. Your cunt ached for him.

You were soon snapped out of your thoughts, his hand pressing onto your throat, squeezing it ever so slightly. Your ass was pressed down to rest on top of the pearl-colored countertop, just beside the sink. He stood between your legs, continuously pushing your body so that your shoulders were against the stained mirror.

"You want this?" He asked, the question almost pointless to your drunken state. Of course you wanted him.

"Yes," you croaked out, his hand squeezing your throat tighter. The sensation did wonders in dampening your folds, your body practically begging for his touch.

Johnny used his free hand to unbuckle his belt swiftly, the metal piece falling to the floor in an instant. Your eyes widened, stifling any sudden moans that dared to escape your lips. Before you knew it, his denim and boxers had been kicked aside to the other end of the cold, tile floor. You felt your cunt repeatedly clench and tremble. His hand never moved, he needed to keep you propped upright and under his control. Johnny's other hand pushed your denim skirt up, allowing him access to your cum-soaked panties. He grinned at the sight, knowing he was the one to have gotten you so wet even without entrance just yet. He ran his finger over the wet spot, spiking the fabric further. He gruffly spoke up, locking eyes with you intimately, "You're gonna take all of me."

This was no request - it was a demand. You could almost swear you felt yourself finish right then and there, his authoritative words sending a chill down your spine. Stripping yourself of your shirt and bra, you set it on the other end of the sink. You scrambled to unbutton your denim skirt as well, sliding it all the way down to your ankles for Johnny to finish removing. You did the same with your panties, sliding your body closer to his. He caught on to your eager actions, shutting down the idea immediately. "Sit up," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Johnny~" you groaned aloud lustfully. He slid his dampened tip to graze over your clit. The feeling of his warm pre-cum caused your cunt to yearn for more. Johnny's hand squeezed your flesh somehow even tighter, your breath hitching in your throat.

"God, I missed my pussy," he admitted in a low and lecherous voice. You hummed in response, grinning from ear to ear. Having him confess to you so suddenly only made your desire grow.

He slipped his tip inside your warm and wet cunt, your body taking its time to adjust to his size once more. You let out a shaky moan, your hands involuntarily searching the countertop nearby for something to hold onto. You didn't have enough time to properly adjust before his entire length pounded your insides with a firm thrust. A holler of pure bliss erupted from your lungs, tilting your head back in submission.

"Take the whole fuckin' thing. I ain't stopping 'till you remember you're mine." Johnny declared, his thrusts becoming faster by the second.

You could've sworn your neck had a red handprint on it from the extreme choking he'd been establishing on you. The same could be said about your cunt, Johnny fucking it as he pleased to fulfill his desires.

A low, guttural moan fell from Johnny's lips, his cock deepening inside you. Your body was jerking back and forth so rapidly, your breasts jolting up and down. The pleasure only seemed to increase from there. Your ecstatic expression made Johnny crumble. He lifted his hand to your cheek, striking it firmly before grabbing your chin to force your gaze on him. A wicked smile formed on his lips, "You like that? Fucking yourself onto me? Hm?"

The realization flooded your mind, realizing your body had been subconsciously moving on its own to receive all the more pleasure. You were no stranger to rough sex - you'd constantly find yourself enjoying the occasional slap and swat from Johnny. It made your legs tremble, the burning sensation lasting only a few seconds but having a long-term effect on your desire for his cock.

"Yes... yes, I like it," your raspy voice struggled to reply to him. His hand on your throat squeezed all the right spots, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Yeah? You're mine," he declared again, slapping your cheek once more just to be sure you heard him loud and clear.

His cock slammed into your tight cunt, the sound of your skin slapping his causing a breathless moan from the both of you. You felt your eyes fly open, only for them to instinctively roll back. You were teetering on the edge, Johnny's pounding motion placing you in a state of bliss. He noticed the way your eyes had rolled back, your breathing becoming faster by the second. Your legs instinctively closed on him, the rush of pleasure causing your legs to shudder. Johnny helped you through your climax, slowing his pace as he praised you under his breath. “Did so fucking good for me.”

The constant words of encouragement settled the adrenaline pumping through you, his slow movements finishing you off with a breathy moan. You peered down to see himself holding back from releasing just yet. His cock soaked in your cum slowly thrusting inside you was a sight you quite enjoyed. The wetness surrounding him allowed more movement inside your dripping cunt.

He then pulled out, a groan of frustration slipping out. You blinked back the pleasure, panting and sweating. Your pussy was marked all over - red and bruised yet you'd enjoyed the whole thing.

"On your knees," Johnny spoke suddenly, removing his hand from your neck, a red handprint marked onto your flesh.

You didn't hesitate to do as told, your legs trembling as you stood from the countertop and fell to your knees. Johnny stood over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair so that you could look him in the eye. Your mouth opened just enough for his tip to slip inside, your tongue flicking against it for a brief second. Johnny's head tilted back, a groan falling from his lips. "Yeah baby, taste yourself on my cock."

The words shook you straight to your core, but you went along with it nonetheless. His hips bucked closer to your head, the movements sending his throbbing cock further down your throat. Your muscles tightened, a small cough erupting as your eyes squeezed shut. Johnny cut you a bit of slack, the feeling so relieving you hummed against his skin in reply. Looking up at him with those wide eyes of yours made Johnny push himself further. You could’ve sworn his length made its way to the very back of your throat as he fucked himself into you. Your salivating mouth and small swirls of your tongue sent waves of pleasure throughout his body. His grip on your hair grew tighter, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat at a much swifter pace. Johnny let out a groan, the sound coming from the depths of his lungs. He came to a slow stop, the smirk on his face saying it all.

“Swallow it. Swallow,” he urged, keeping his cock buried down your throat.

You were more than happy to swallow, the adrenaline rush and desire for him fulfilling your every move. You grimaced but swallowed nonetheless - a droplet of his warm cum running down your chin as he pulled himself out. You let out a deep exhale, panting as Johnny held a hand out to you. You steadied yourself up with his help and used the back of your hand to wipe the remains off your skin.

“Johnny, I needed that so badly~” you spoke in between breathless exhales, trying to bring your breathing down to a more natural speed.

Johnny only smiled in response, watching as your figure wobbled beside the counter, your hands on his forearms to keep yourself up. “I know it. I missed you…honestly - I did.”

The words of reassurance fluttered through your heart, a gut feeling arising that your story wasn't over with him. You looked into Johnny’s lustful gaze, knowing he was holding back. “You know you're mine though, right? I don't ever want to see you movin’ on with some guy at a party - you hear?”

Johnny placed a soft yet meaningful kiss on your lips, pulling away in an instant as he awaited a reply. Wrapping your arms around him neck, a few tipsy kisses placed onto his jaw sealed the deal. You were his once more.

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theha1r · 4 months ago

Text

@girlief liked for a starter!

"i know i'm immortal and all but..." steve lets out a long, withering, sigh as he drops back against the couch - eyes fluttering shut and a hand going up to cover them. "i don't know how i'm supposed to live forever in a world like this." and he doesn't even know if he's talking about something specific or just the current state of the world in general. "ten years - and well the nineteen years before that - and i'm already so tired. i know we can hope it'll get better, but every day it seems to just be getting worse."

#( you gotta mess up to figure things out // interactions )#( contact list // elena gilbert )#( something wicked this way comes // vampire )#girlief #(i hope vampire verse is okay??? i just kinda assumed that made the most sense)#(tvd universe vamp lore is most similar to the vamp lore i follow anyways tbh)#(but if you wanted a different ones pls lemme know)#(also if its not obvious this is option one for his vampire verse where he was changed during modern times & all)#(but he HAS been a vamp for 10 years or so)

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stanurines1mp · 2 months ago

Text

Until We're Satisfied

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Zenin!Reader (she/her)

type: angst + smut

an: pt 2 of Summer Nights based on this. lord this is my first smut that i have the courage to post bcoz my bsf told me to. its probably shitty and kinda rushed in the end but tbf i wrote it while i was battling my demons (sleep and period cramps). anyways, pls lemme know how it is.

warnings: a little bit of angst, smut, handjob (m!receiving), gojo eating you out (self-indulgent to the core), praise kink if you squint, gojo is desperate and so are you, slightly possessive gojo, spit kink (lord help me), forbidden love, slight hair pulling (self-indulgent pt2), gojo is a tease and so are you, switch!gojo, body worshipping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, i think that's it? have fun ig

Part one

~~~

You both headed back to the hotel, ready to pack your things and go home but your tracks were frozen in place as your hands flew to cover your ears, a ringing pain appearing.

This wasn't anything new to you.

When you finally had to use your technique and go all out after months of not using it, your ears would feel a sort of shrill and your head would hurt, feeling like it could burst at any given moment but it never does.

Although you were used to this, Satoru never knew this consequence of yours. Almost immediately, his arms went to you, trying to keep you steady when you bunch over your stomach and holding your head in pain.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" He asked, worried that maybe you had been hit by one of the Curse User's techniques without either one of you realizing it.

"I'm fine," you dismissed with a simple wave, recollecting yourself to stand up straight and fight the pain. "I just need to get my meds in my bag at the hotel."

Your words held no intended urgency but apparently to Satoru, that was all that mattered. To get you back to the hotel room.

In all honesty, he had no idea what was going on. But he was not about to take any risks as he wrapped an arm around you and warped you both back to the room.

Suddenly, your eyes were blinking in the view of the bedroom, eyes twitching to adjust to the lighting but the pain in your head was a step ahead of you, not even allowing any adjustment as your eyes screwed shut in pain.

"God, Satoru, why the fuck did you warp us?" You almost screamed, scrambling to find your bag by the couch.

Satoru's eyes widened, overpowered by guilt. "You said you needed to get your meds here!" He replied with just the same amount of defense as the frustration in your voice.

He stood frozen in fear, unsure of what to do as he watched you scrimmage your bag, creating a mess on the floor but you hadn't got enough to care for it at the moment.

He saw you holding a bag that contained a few boards of pills, all of them a different type. Taking out two pills of different kinds, you popped each of them into your mouth, swallowing them down your dry throat.

There was a lingering sting in the back of your throat, causing you to wince.

You tried to stand up, but your body was weak and threatened to fall. Satoru rushed right next to you, one hand holding your back and one hand holding your stomach, helping you to keep upright.

"Woah, are you okay?" His voice was low against your ear, somehow a comfort to your searing pain.

"Yeah, just need to lie down for a sec," you nodded, arms reaching forward to the bed.

You tried to walk but really, you were closer to falling to your knees than you were to walking.

And Satoru noticed that.

Stopping you, he instead scooped you into his arms and walked over to the bed. Even though the walk was short, you let your head rest on his shoulder, eyes closing while the pain in your head throbbed endlessly.

He gently laid you on the bed, right on your back. Your head immediately settled into the soft pillow while your hand reached out to tug at his wrist.

"Water- Please," your voice choked out in a small cry and Satoru just about dashed to the pantry to get two bottled water, just in case.

He placed one on the nightstand next to you while he helped open the other and handed it to you. You took it gratefully, murmuring a jumbled 'Thank you' before downing the beverage.

A soft sigh of relief escaped you once you stopped drinking and Satoru took the bottle from you to help close it, placing it next to you on the nightstand. He was scared and clueless, standing so awkwardly still to assist you with any wish of yours.

"Chocolates," you coughed, pointing to your bag on the floor by the couch.

"What?" He asked with a scrunched face, not noticing your gesture.

"In my bag, there should be a small jar of chocolates," you managed to say smoothly, the water and medicine taking effects. "Can you help get them?"

"Of course, princess," he mumbles before almost diving into the floor due to his speed and managing to fish out the very thing you wanted.

He gave it to you after taking off the lid of the jar, the smell of milk chocolate with almonds filling the space between both of you.

"Thanks," you pursed your lips and took a small square of chocolate to bite into. "You can take some if you want," your words were smooth but the pain was still heavy in your mind. You noticed Satoru's hesitance as he eyes the chocolate then you then back to the chocolate. "Don't worry, they're not magic chocolates or whatever."

His lips tugged in a small smile as he helped himself to a square before taking a seat by the edge of the bed, right next to your stretched-out legs.

His eyes remained on you even while he took the chocolate into his mouth, watching the way your eyes were fluttering to suppress the pain in your head but you did seem much better now.

"So, are you gonna tell what the fuck that was?" He finally voiced out, licking his lips for a hint of chocolate residuals.

The tone he used shocked you but it also amused you, causing you to let out a small giggle.

And oh, how for once Satoru thought he was actually useful if he could have made you let out such a beautiful harmony.

Your giggles settled into a gentle smile as you pushed yourself upright with your palms on the bed. "You know my technique, right?" You asked with a raised brow.

Know?

Satoru might just have memorized every little thing about your technique. Or at least, every little thing about it that you've told him over the past few years of being together during occasional missions.

But he just nodded and allowed you to explain.

"And you know that cursed energy has its own frequency too, right? Everyone's cursed energy has different frequencies," you said, earning a nod from him. "When I use my technique, it causes my cursed energy to lower. Like you, too," you paused before continuing, "And usually, it's fine. But when I use it a lot, especially after not using it for months like what happened today, I get these really bad migraines for about a day or two. It's like my body can't adjust to the low cursed energy."

Satoru nodded as he fathomed your explanation, the information he received was no doubt going to the little space in his memory reserved especially for you.

"Wait, so, why were you angry that I warped us here?"

"Because the frequency of your cursed energy gets higher when you use it and it was very loud and it-"

"It was hurting you," he concluded, earning a slow nod from you. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," your shoulders shrugged. "I'm honestly used to this. I just have to take my meds, drink water, and eat something sweet. Chocolate usually helps," you added, reaching forward to grab another chocolate square from him.

"Makes sense, chocolate helps with everything."

"Finally, something we can agree on," you laughed and Satoru thought that when people talked about angels singing, they must have meant your laugh.

Because that was truly all that he believed you were as his eyes were captivated by the way your shoulders shook in laughter.

Really, if he was placed on this Earth solely to make you laugh, then so be it. He will fulfill his role to its fullest.

But he couldn't really do that, could he?

"Excuse me," he cleared his throat and placed the jar of chocolates on the nightstand before walking out of the room.

Your smile faded as quickly as he walked out and shut the door, leaving you frozen and clueless. You had no idea what just happened but your mind was too hazy and tired to think anything more, causing you to fall asleep.

Satoru only excused himself because he had to free himself of you. Of the way your hair fell so nicely over your shoulders even in such a state. Or the way your eyes crease slightly when you laugh.

And don't even get him started on your laugh.

Any second longer in front of you and he would have kissed away all your troubles.

But he couldn't do that to you.

He didn't want to put you in such a position.

Satoru was sitting in the lounge of the hotel lobby, his phone constantly by his ears as he waited for Ijichi to answer, wondering when it would be time for you and him to return home.

But night was aging fast and you were still in a terrible state that he had given up on trying to find a way back home.

That was, a way back home that wasn't you.

Walking to the receptionist, Satoru confirmed with the man that he wanted to extend the stay yet another night.

Once things were settled, and he was sure he could face you again without having the heavy urge to kiss you and hold you against him (though he wondered if that was even possible), he returned to the bedroom and saw that you were still fast asleep in your uniform on the bed.

But his arrival had caused you to stir awake, being a light sleeper and all.

"What time are we leaving?" You mumbled, pushing yourself up by your elbows.

"Ijichi isn't answering. It's getting late and you clearly need more rest," he sighed, adding, "I've asked them to extend our stay another night."

"We're sleeping here again?" Your forehead creased with worry, watching him nod in confirmation. "Satoru," your voice trailed off, low and pleading.

His gaze met yours, blindfold off and staring right at you. He didn't have to ask you to know what you were thinking about. Looking away, his voice was quiet and laced with bitterness.

"It won't happen again, I promise."

You took a deep breath and nodded, trusting him for all that he could give you before tossing away the blanket that covered your legs.

"I'm gonna take a shower," you informed and took your clothes from last night before entering the toilet.

Satoru was seated on the edge of the bed, watching as you passed him by, your posture and the way you walked more stable than earlier. He washed over with relief, thankful that you were feeling better.

Although you had assured him that you were used to feeling that way, he was still overwhelmed with worry. But all in all, he was just glad that you were okay.

He heard the water begin to run but his mind was occupied by the sound of his phone ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket, he read the caller and answered it, informing Ijichi that he had decided to stay another night and have the manager come pick you both up tomorrow at noon.

Eventually, you returned to the bedroom, your hair damp and the ends were held up by the small towel in your hands. You flashed Satoru a glance, feeling shy when you noticed how his eyes were in a trance, staring unashamedly at your figure.

"Stop staring, perv," you huffed, bending over to your bag to get your hairdryer out.

Your words brought him back, and he muttered a small apology before tearing his eyes away from you.

But you really weren't making it easy.

What's worse, he thought, was that you weren't even doing this on purpose yet he was already so desperate for you.

Just as you began drying your hair, Satoru got up abruptly to enter the shower but you paid him no mind.

It didn't take too long for you to finish drying your hair but it certainly took Satoru quite some time in the shower, the sound of water running louder than you've ever heard since yesterday.

You lay back on the bed, massaging your temples to relieve the surges of migraines that hit you. You didn't even realize it when Satoru finished showering, your eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

His towel hung over his shoulder, the end of it moving as he took silent steps towards you. His lips curled in a gentle smile upon noticing the state of your slumber. Your lips were parted to elicit soft snores and he just thought that you looked absolutely adorable.

Careful not to wake you, he brought the blanket up to your shoulders. He took his spot next to you, the bed sinking on his bed as his weight met the mattress.

His gaze snapped to you quickly in panic, his head almost tore off but he relaxed when he noticed that you were not stirring awake. Perhaps the medication caused you to sleep soundly. Either way, Satoru let himself relax next to you, falling asleep on his own.

Your eyes shot open for a second before they closed in an attempt to relieve the surging headache that appeared. Fingers stretched out, you were struggling to find your phone but when you did, you checked to look at the time.

It was only 11 but you knew you must have slept early and Satoru was softly breathing in his sleep next to you. You wanted to get up, stand, and walk to the bathroom to wash your face.

But you had accidentally fallen, causing a loud thud, waking the white-haired sorcerer.

"Sorry, go back to sleep," you mumbled from the floor, waving a hand.

His eyes were droopy when he scooted to your side of the bed and stretched his neck out to see you on the floor. He raised a brow laced with confusion and amusement. "You okay down there, princess?"

"Fine," you pursed your lips.

"What are you doing?"

"I was trying to go to the bathroom," you answered lazily.

You pushed yourself up, holding onto the edge of the bed to lift yourself only to be barely an inch away from Satoru's complexion. His eyes were bright on yours, lips twitching to pursue yours against his but he decided against it.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes feeling hazy with the lack of oxygen that stood in the gap between you and your supposed enemy.

Enemy?

Or, was he more of a partner to you at this point?

You pulled away, creating distance when you straightened your back. Satoru was left inhaling the residuals of your scent as you walked to the bathroom.

Cold water splashed across the complexion of your face, bringing relief to the faint feeling of pain that had woken you up. When you returned to the bedroom, Satoru sat up straight so quickly, it was as if he was paying respect to an elder or something.

His eyes were frowning, almost expectant but you ignored it to grab some pills from your bag. You sat on the bed and took your medicine with the water to help you swallow them easier.

"Go to sleep, Satoru," you sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm worried," he pouted and you could hear it in his voice.

"I'm fine," you rolled your eyes, settling your gaze on him. "Sleep."

He didn't budge and you rolled your eyes once again, climbing under the blanket that hugged your body softly. Your back was turned to him as if you were telling him that you were ready to return to sleep.

You stayed that way for a few minutes, hoping that Satoru took it as a sign that he should sleep too. But he didn't. Because when you turned around to lie on your left side, your eyes were met with his that stared back at you.

"Why aren't you going to sleep?" Your voice was gentle and quiet.

"I can't go to sleep with you acting all weird," he shook his head but his movements were constricted by the pillow under his cheek.

A thankful beam adorned your lips while you spoke, "I'm fine, Satoru."

He wasn't sure if it was your smile or the way you said his name that caused him to reach out his hand, brushing a strand of hair to tuck it behind your ear.

"You sure? You seem a little on edge," he hummed, the sound originating from his chest.

His thumb caressed your cheek, his movements causing your eyes to flutter shut as you nuzzled for the warmth he radiated. His body moved closer, his arms on your back to pull you in against him.

Your head collided lightly with his chest, hands going to the shirt over his chest, and your palm splayed out. You felt his lips pressing against the top of your head, leaving you almost weak and helpless under his gentleness.

"We shouldn't do this," you whispered, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

"You say that but, you're holding onto me tighter," he murmured lazily, looking down while you looked up, locked on his intimidating blue eyes.

"You promised," your words were choked out unwillingly.

"Turns out I'm not good at keeping promises, princess," a small chuckle escaped him. "It's just you and me here," he assured, his fingers beginning to card through your hair, inching lower and lower to rest on your lower back.

You wondered if Satoru's blue eyes were truly his or just part of the Six Eyes. But it didn't matter.

Because you were looking at him. Just as he was looking at you.

The air in between was heavy and hot and you knew it wasn't just the summer proving its presence. But it didn't matter.

Because Satoru was leaning closer, his neck slightly craning down. Just as yours were tilted up.

There was a gap that acted as a wall of fire, the heat scorching and burning both your and Satoru's skin.

But it seemed that the feelings you both held were much stronger, and the fire was no match for the inferno that itched within the depths of your hearts.

The gap soon burned into non-existence as Satoru pressed his lips against yours, his eyes closing in bliss. It was a soft kiss, chaste and innocent but was deepened by his hand that rested on your lower back.

He pulled you closer against him, your face flushed with his, lips engulfing one another to merge as one. You relaxed, tightening your grasp on his shirt as you pulled yourself up, lips eagerly moving against his as your nose brushed with his.

Satoru couldn't help it.

A soft but muffled moan had escaped past his lips and entered straight through yours before he could stop himself. His hand that stilled on your back lowered itself on your body.

He reached the dip on your body where your back meets your ass, lowering and lowering his fingers down to your ass and he gave it a gentle squeeze. In turn, your lips were parted in a gasp at his touch, allowing his tongue to find purchase within the cavern of your mouth.

Running down your thigh, his hand slowly pulled your leg to have it weigh on him by his waist before his fingers continued to massage the skin of your thighs softly.

"Satoru, wait," you whispered in between kisses, your words taken in by his tongue. "Wait," you repeated, more firmly this time.

His hand stopped its movements, his lips going slack to pull away as his eyes scrunched with worry and hesitance. His chest rose under your grasp, up and down as he breathed heavily with desire.

"We can't," your voice trailed, your eyes closing as a tear fell onto your cheek. "You know we shouldn't do this."

A sigh slipped past his lips, his heart aching with each beat that it took. His hand that wasn't on your thigh rested on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the stain of the single tear that fell. He leaned in and kissed the small area of your skin, the taste of your tear meeting his lips.

He gently nudged your head to rest under his chin, his lips pressing a sweet kiss atop your hair. He was gentle even as frustration and guilt colored his skin.

"I know, I know," he cooed into the strands of your hair.

"Why," you sobbed silently against his neck, your tears falling along his skin to his shirt. "Why does it have to be like this?"

He held you tighter against him like he was afraid any distance that would exist would multiply more and more and he would no longer be able to hold you. He was most afraid of that, he was sure.

"Because of our families, the danger that comes with being together when we live in this world of curses, and because," his voice trailed, cracked with emotions. "Because we're not supposed to love each other."

"And do you?" Your words were quick, rushed, and desperate to hear an answer that you hoped would match what you felt.

He slowly pulled away to lock his eyes with yours.

"I've never known what love is, how it looked like, or smelled like, or sounded like," he whispered, low and quiet as he poured his barest thoughts. "I've searched for it night and day, and I was always clueless. I didn't know what was right. But I know now, I've known for a while. Love is," he paused, fingers going to cup your cheek. "Love smells like lavender and rosemary with hints of rose petals. Love sounds like the way you say my name, the way you laugh, and the way you are constantly nagging at me when you pretend to hate me. And most of all, I know that love looks like you."

Your lips allowed a light giggle to escape, bringing a genuine smile to Satoru's lips. "But we should hate each other, shouldn't we?"

A bitter laugh escaped Satoru, his arms tightening around you.

"We should. We've always been told to, but we don't. That's the problem, right?" He hummed, a hand of his now on your lower back again. Slowly, he leaned into the crook of your neck, just the spot where your ear met your jawline, his voice speaking softly, "But how am I supposed to hate you when all I can think about is how much I want to be with you every day." A kiss was placed on your skin, "I want to wake up next to you," another kiss, lower on your neck this time, "Hear you laugh," another kiss, "Be the one to make you laugh. I can't stop thinking about how much I love you and how much I need you."

Tears leaked from your eyes, falling onto his white-colored hair but he didn't care. His head rested on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck.

But he pulled away before his cheek could leave a lingering warmth on your skin. Gaze locked onto you, blue eyes flickered to your lips as he leaned down again, his lips gentle on yours.

It was sweet but there was no mistake that something much darker hid beneath the innocence of his action.

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop," he murmured against your lips, panting slightly with the way your hand gripped his shoulder.

"Don't," you shook your head, eyes scrunched to allow your tears to escape. "Please don't stop."

It didn't take Satoru long at all, barely even half a second after your last word before he was back on your lips.

Just like Satoru, you couldn't even let a second pass before kissing him back, your emotions uncovered with all that you could give him in that kiss.

"I love you," he whispered in between your lips, slightly muffled but with the lack of distance you two shared, it didn't matter.

A smile drew on your lips and he could feel it, he almost died.

Not that he would have cared.

If he were to die against you, lips attached to yours like magnets of opposite poles, he would die happy.

"I love you," you answered, chasing the taste of his feather-light lips on yours.

"I'll always love you," he assured, brushing the skin of his nose against yours in a small bump.

Pulling away, you dared not to remove your eye contact with him. "Even if one day my family tells me to kill you?" Your voice was shaky, reminded of such a dark possibility.

Satoru's eyes darkened, a sigh escaping as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Even then, I'll still love you," he whispered to the air you both shared. "And I'll always hope that you'll choose me instead of them."

Maybe he was being selfish.

But at this point, he already knew he was a selfish man.

He allowed his desire and love for you to take you both this far. That was more than enough proof that Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the bearer of Six Eyes, was a selfish man.

"I don't know how," you sobbed softly.

"I know, princess, I know," he comforted with his thumb wiping away your tears before he peppered soft kisses on where your tears once stood. "I don't want you to have to choose, but-"

"But?"

"But if it comes down to it, I hope you'll choose me. I hope you'll choose us," he sighed, wanting to curse himself for being so goddamn honest even knowing that his honesty was just the words of a selfish man.

But Satoru Gojo was a selfish man.

Your eyes closed, and a sigh escaped you as you allowed yourself to lean into Satoru. Your lips met his and just as quickly, his lips engulfed yours.

It was warm and welcoming, things you were never accustomed to up until now.

"I love you," he repeated, pulling away to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"We can't be together, Satoru," you sniffled as you let him kiss your skin.

"I know," he nodded, pulling you close against him. "But that doesn't change how I feel about you. I want you so bad it hurts," his voice cracked as his head fell slumped on your shoulder, finding security in the dip of your neck.

"Where, Satoru? Where does it hurt?" You whispered into his ear.

"Here," he answered, taking your wrist and resting your palm on his shirt, just above his heart. "Can you hear how my heart beats for you?"

You could hear it all, feel it all.

"I can make it hurt less," you suggested quietly.

"No," he said, fingers gripping your wrist tightly.

"Why not?"

"I want my heart to be honest when it comes to you. I want to let it beat for you as it does."

"Even if it hurts?" You asked gently.

"I want to hurt for you," he answered to the skin of your neck.

Your hands tugged on his shirt, trying to get his attention. His head tilted up, creating a little distance, one that he quite hated.

But it didn't matter.

Not when your lips found home on his, pushing into the kiss desperately. A muffled groan slipped past Satoru, his body arching into you to deepen the kiss.

The kiss was no longer the kind you both had shared a few times over the course of the night. The hidden darkness had taken over, desire creating a mess of tongues clashing.

He stole the opportunity the moment he was presented with it, his tongue entering your mouth to slide along yours and you almost couldn't help the way your lips hungrily sucked onto it, a silent whimper of yours hidden beneath the collision.

One of your hands had found its way to the back of Satoru's head, fingers entangled in his white locks while your other hand was gripping onto his bicep as if it was a way to keep yourself grounded before losing truly to the desire that was quickly burning in your body.

The way Satoru couldn't keep his hands still definitely hadn't helped your case. His touches were no longer feather-light, instead, they were hungry and rough as they roamed your back, your hip, your ass, and your thighs.

At this point, he wasn't even just touching you but groping, giving your flesh squeezes here and there as he pleased.

And oh God, was he pleased.

He was drinking in everything about you.

The soft whimpers of yours that he swallowed deliciously and the way your body would tense and relax over and over again with every move of his hand. Satoru was noting every little thing about you that he never could before.

He was sure he had memorized your body now and he hadn't even done anything.

But you weren't the only one falling victim to passion. Satoru was just as big of a mess as you were, groaning with every squeeze that he would give you. He was hopeless, truly lost to the way you were giving him all that he could ever dream of.

"I need you so bad," Satoru moaned against your lips and you let out a gasp, feeling the rough grip he held on your hip.

"Show me," you whispered against his lips, letting your noses brush teasingly.

His eyes widened at how easily you accepted it. Pulling back, his hands were shaky on your hip as his eyes contacted yours.

"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse with desire, barely a whisper as if he was afraid. "I don't want to hurt you."

Your hand on his arms snaked to cup his jaw, your thumb gently tracing the skin under his eyes. "I trust you, Satoru."

He closed his eyes, leaning right into your touch as if it was home. And maybe, it was.

Actually, Satoru was sure it was.

"But if it's too much, just tell me to stop, okay?" He assured gently.

"Okay," you nodded with a smile that he knew could have easily fished him out of darkness anytime he found his way in such a place.

With both of his hands on your hips, Satoru pulled you flush against him, lips meeting once again with an elevated taste of desire. You let him lift your leg to rest on his leg.

Your palm was on his chest and you used it to push him to lie on his back against the mattress but you never once disconnected the mess that was created by your lips against his.

Satoru gripped your hips tighter, holding you on him while he moved back so that he was sitting upright, his legs stretched out. You straddled his right leg, your fingers roaming his hair.

Tugging on the ends of the white locks in an attempt to get his attention, Satoru groaned deeply, feeling his pants growing tighter. It was safe to say that this was the only time you had failed to get his attention.

You tried to pull away from the kiss, needing a moment to breathe but Satoru's arms immediately wrapped your behind and his head followed you forward, desirous for the taste of your tongue.

God, he had waited so long for this, not even knowing if it would ever come true.

But there he sat, under you and he never thought he could ever be this happy. His hands were everywhere but they rested on the edge where your shirt ends.

"Take- Take this off," he gasped into your lips, a whine following him as he tugged the fabric.

He only pulled you away to roughly pull your shirt over your head, almost ripping it as he gleamed with impatience. The shirt was thrown somewhere on the floor but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

He was quick to have his lips on yours again for a few seconds before he leaned back, hastily taking off his shirt. The room was dark and it remained that way but the light that shone through the windows was enough for you to admire him.

His body was showered with old scars, beautiful as they glimmered in the dark due to his sweat. You didn't have enough time before Satoru stole your view of his toned abdomen, his tongue already prodding for your lips to open.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whimpered with his tongue deep in your mouth.

His right hand was steadily holding you on your lower back, his left hand flying up to your breasts, groping the flesh over your bra. His lips lowered to your jawline, peppering hungry kisses as they trailed down your neck.

Soft whines escaped you, his lips on your neck driving you wild. He was relentless with every movement of his.

His hand on your boobs was overwhelmingly rough. And the feeling of his soft lips was so contrasting with how mean he was biting your skin and licking over it to soothe.

Your head tilted back, using your hand on the back of his head to keep him to the exposed skin on your neck. He was leaving marks but your mind was too hazy, feeling arousal begin to pool in your panties.

You felt his hand on your back skilfully unclasped the hook of your bra, the piece of clothing now on the floor with your shirt (you assumed). Pushing you against him, your back arched slightly, almost screaming when his lips wrapped around your hardened nipple.

His mouth was hot on your chest, moving from one tit to the other with extreme hunger. He moaned around the flesh, louder and getting more high-pitched with the way your fingers tugged on his hair to keep him sucking expertly on you.

He was growing harder, his cock throbbing with every sound you made, a harmony of pleasure that he caused.

Your hand wandered lower down his body, feeling the rough remnants of scars and you let your fingers trace over them longer, appreciating each and every one of them as you commit the picture to memory.

Satoru felt his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he hid in the crook of your neck.

"They're from old battles," he whispered in your ear softly.

You pulled away, seeing him colored by blood rushing under his skin. "You're so handsome, Satoru," you caressed his cheeks, encouraging him to look into your eyes.

"R-Really?" He gaped in wonder, his eyes scrunched with the need for your validation.

"You're the most handsome man I've ever seen, Satoru," you nodded, a soft smile drawn on your complexion.

You leaned forward and took his lips in between yours, cupping his jaw to keep him moving against you. Satoru's eyes rolled back, his hips bucking up in heat.

His cheeks were hot, embarrassed by his own lack of self-control and he prayed that you hadn't noticed it. But of course you did.

How could you not notice it when his hard bulge rubbed at the skin of your thigh?

Your hands danced lower on his body, lower and lower until you reached his happy trail, the feeling of the soft hair tingling underneath your fingertips. You reached the hem of his pants, pulling it and slipping your hands past his boxers.

"F-Fuck," he moaned when he felt your fingers softly grazing his tip that leaked pre-cum. "Please," he croaked out, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire.

"Hmm?" You hummed teasingly against his lips before going to his neck, now exposed with his head tilted back.

You couldn't help but feel proud as you teased him, taking in the sight of his desperation.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, was quite literally crumbling in the palm of your hands.

Your lips latched onto his skin, kissing, sucking, and biting down on his sensitive spots. Satoru cried out with a whimper, his hands on your waist now tightening as he felt every bit of your touch on him. His hips moved, seeking friction as he tried to fuck himself on your hands.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, his voice broken and desperate with your slow movements. "Touch me, please," he moaned, begging in desperation.

Your lips on his neck curved in a smirk, pleased with yourself at how well you've crumbled the man. Gently, your fingers wrapped around his dick and you could feel how girthy he was, still growing as he throbbed under your skin.

His head fell to your shoulders, crying softly with his hips weakly chasing your hand. You set a steady pace for your hands, moving them up and down his cock, occasionally pumping his base and swiping the endlessly leaking pre on his slit.

Satoru's hands could only rest on your back, fingernails digging crescents as he put up with the pace of your hands. But it wasn't enough, not at all.

By your ears, he pleaded, voice stuttering as he said, "M-More."

You nodded, heeding his wishes as you quickened your pace. Satoru showered your ear with the sounds of his pleasure, his hands now back to groping every part of your skin that he could.

But his head stilled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more shallow with each jerk of his hips. He was a man on a mission and his mission was to reach his release at the hands of you - quite literally.

He needed more, not even caring about how fast he was approaching that high. His hand gripped one of yours on his cock, guiding your fingers to work faster on himself.

"Fuck, baby, just like that," he breathed heavily against your ears.

You could feel his dick twitching in your hands that were entangled with his very own. The pace he set with his hand on yours was rough and fast, you were beginning to lose it but his hand gripped yours tighter, fisting himself with your hands.

"I'm close," he moaned, low and slightly muffled with the skin of your shoulder pressing against his lips.

"It's okay, it's okay," you cooed softly, causing him to lean back.

In the darkness of the night, his eyes made contact with yours, noticing the red color that flushed your skin, undoubtedly matching his. Your lips were red and bitten and his heart swelled knowing that he had caused that.

"You can let go," you whispered, eyes boring into his.

Satoru nodded, his face inching closer to yours to pull you in a kiss. It was soft, quick, and gentle.

Unlike the way he was helping you please him, passionate yet fast like he was racing against time.

But he really was approaching his high and you took notes of the few things you noticed about him in such a vulnerable state.

The way his cock twitched in your hand, his hips bucking and moving erratically, his breathing shallow as he panted endlessly and most of all, the way his eyes were screwed shut in bliss, his moans growing higher in notes that melodiously passed through your ears.

"Ah- ah- I'm-" His words were cut off by his own gasps of pleasure consuming him.

You felt the thick substance on your fingers when Satoru reached his high. His eyes were closed in bliss, the sight so beautiful and erotic, that you had it memorized freshly in your mind.

His hand was slack against yours, leaving you the freedom to slow down the pace, helping him ride through his orgasm. His chest rose heavily, trying to regain his steady breathing.

"How does that feel?" You hummed, using his lack of focus to kiss his jawline, peppering sweet kisses all over his skin.

His eyes opened, heavily lidded, his pale skin now flushed and relaxed. "So good," he smiled, dropping his head to the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the warmth you provided.

"Good," you smiled, tufts of cloud-like hair rustling your lips as you stroked his hair gently.

Satoru gently guided your hands out of his pants and led them to his tongue, licking off all his essence that smeared your skin. You hummed appreciatively at his actions, eyes fluttering with love and all that you were.

"Thank you, princess," he murmured, earning a nod from you who was oblivious to the glint of mischief that drawled on his lips. "Let me repay you," he whispered.

He didn't give you a chance to question his words before using his hands on your hips to flip you. You were laid on your back as Satoru crawled onto you, his right hand roaming your skin while his left hand cupped your jaw.

Sharing an ardent kiss, you whimpered at the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. He pulled away, lips now praying onto your skin as he left marks to scatter you.

His fingers at your shorts were teasing and slow, agonizing as you closed your eyes. You felt him moving up, and your eyes met him immediately as he ghosted over your complexion.

"May I?" He giggled softly, tugging at your shorts. You nodded with consent but he shook his head with a smile, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. "Say it, baby."

"Yes," you breathed before leaning up to kiss him. "Please do."

He smirked against your lips, pulling away.

He went to sit on his knees, both his hands by your sides, gently pulling off your shorts, and leaving you in your underwear. His smirk grew wider at the sight of the apparent wet spot that stained your undergarment.

You propped yourself up by the elbows, watching as he teasingly brought your panties down to your ankles and through your feet. He dangled it in front of him, teasing you with slight hints of mockery and you rolled your eyes exasperatedly.

"Satoru!" You scolded with wide eyes as you watched him jumble the piece of fabric in his hand and keep it in the pocket of his pants.

"Relax, I'll buy more for you," he winked before returning his eyes to you.

Or rather, your pussy.

Glistening under the faint color of night, Satoru sat still with eyes of awe, he was sure there were hearts bulging in his eyes. He was quiet, only admiring his view that had caused his pants to tighten again.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You mumbled, shy and looking away with red cheeks as you closed your legs but were stopped by Satoru's hand in between.

"I'm admiring you," he said with a tut, gently spreading your legs. "You're just so fucking irresistible," he moaned, placing a kiss on your inner thigh once he lay on his stomach.

"Satoru," you breathed, letting your head fall on the pillow.

"I mean it, baby, you're so beautiful," he hummed against your pussy, his hot breath fanning the most sensitive parts of you. "The prettiest girl ever and this," he smiled, placing his lips to ghost over your entrance, "This is certainly the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

"And how many have you seen?" You quirked a brow, a tinge of jealousy brewing under your skin.

"Does it matter?" He huffed with a slightly annoyed tone.

"I don't know," you mumbled.

His lips lifted in a playful smirk. He rested his head on his knuckles that were propped up by his elbows. His eyes flickered from your cunt and to your eyes, unsure of which part of you he wanted to see.

"Are you jealous, princess?" He purred mischievously.

"Shut up," you groaned, lifting yourself up by your elbows to glare at the man.

"Gladly," he murmured silently before using his hands to pull you into his face by the back of your thighs.

"Satoru!" You yelped, taken aback by the sudden way his tongue licked a long stripe along the lips of your pussy.

"My God, love, you taste so good," he moaned, the vibrations coursing through you.

He smirked against your cunt, pulling you flush against his as he prodded into you. His nose nudged your clit, causing you to close your eyes in bliss.

"Shit," you breathed out in a moan, your hand covering your mouth.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Satoru's voice was low, vibrating against your cunt and it caused you to clench on his finger.

"What?" You frowned, unable to think anything about how his fingers managed to reach you in the deepest parts.

"Let me hear you," he whined, almost childlike. "You sound pretty," his eyes gazed at you, round and desperate with his puppy eyes. "Tastes so good, too. Like heaven," he said, licking your essence that had dripped down his chin.

He wasn't lying.

Satoru thought that if he were ever to get a taste of heaven, it would taste like you.

He returned his focus to your pussy when he noticed you heeding his wishes. His fingers left you only to be replaced by his tongue.

And you never thought his tongue could actually pleasure you this much but there you were, moaning and whimpering as he started tongue-fucking you. His groans were heavy against your pussy, and you could feel it morph into building pleasure, your cunt clenching on his tongue.

Your fingers gripped the sheets of the bed and Satoru noticed it from the corner of his eyes. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he grabbed your wrist and brought it to his hair instead.

You immediately pulled at his hair, the man now rolling his eyes with pleasurable pain. His fingers began toying with your clit but his movements soon quickened in pace.

"Oh my God," you cried, pulling his head further into your cunt.

Satoru used his left hand to lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder to give himself more access to devour you. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, lost in the pleasure that Satoru was giving you.

"There, Satoru- Ngh, right there," you whimpered when his tongue reached that one spot inside you, feeling his flesh prod at it over and over again.

You felt the familiar build-up of pleasure all over your body. Satoru was working at you expertly, his fingers flicking at your clit with technique and skill.

"I'm- Fuck- 'm close," you whined, your breathing growing shallow as you gasped for air, desperately chasing your peak by grinding on Satoru's face.

"Go on, princess," he smiled with eagerness and awe. "On my mouth, come on," he giggled slightly, eyes blown open as he anticipated.

He didn't falter his movements at all, only adding the amount of aggression and speed. His eyes rolled in absolute bliss at the way your pussy clenched so tightly onto his tongue, refusing to let him go.

He wondered how it would feel with his cock inside you. He groaned just thinking about it.

"Fuck," you moaned loudly, feeling your orgasm crash over your body.

Your body squirmed, your fingers still in his hair. Your hips slowed down but Satoru's tongue had not.

He was drinking you up, staying true to his intentions. You could hear the wet sounds of Satoru slurping as he helped you through your orgasm.

Your chest breathed heavily, trying to regain the senses that you had lost to the way Satoru had pleasured you on his tongue. Your eyes were hazy, watching as Satoru approached you.

His skin glistened with your essence and you thought he looked so beautiful like that.

"Hi," you uttered breathily.

"Hi, love," he smiled gently, so sweet and lacking any hints of desire. "How do you feel?" He asked, his finger tracing your cheek and wiping away any tears of yours that had fallen.

"Feels good," you whispered softly.

"Great," he leaned in, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on him. "You're so perfect," he murmured, pulling away from the kiss. "Really, so gorgeous. And beautiful. And you taste so sweet. God, I can't believe I've waited this long to taste you, baby," he groaned as he yapped to you about yourself as if you weren't you.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes in embarrassment, your cheeks flushed and red.

"Shut me up, then," he grinned proudly.

You looked at him with a pair of judgy eyes before bringing your hand to the back of his head, pulling him to kiss you. He kissed back fervently, so hungry for more with the way the kiss deepened, creating a mess of spit and slick.

"Satoru," you called in between kisses.

"Hmm?"

If Satoru were to pinpoint exactly only one thing about you that he loved, he was sure now that his answer would be the way you say his name.

Everyone says his name in a rushing manner and he was used to it. But you?

You ring out each and every syllable as if you had all the time in the world. You say his name as if to remind you that it was his, that it was only his.

Although, he was sure that his name was created just for you to speak of.

But most of all, you say his name and enunciate every bit of it as if it were important. As if he was important.

"Please, take this off," you begged, tugging at his pants.

He smiled, pulling away to obey your words. You took in the sight of Satoru Gojo in his most vulnerable state, the most bare he could ever be. Your thighs rubbed against each other, desire creeping up your skin.

"Not again," he beamed, using his hand to spread your legs, exposing yourself. "Come on," he nudged your nose gently, his hands wrapping around you before flipping you around.

His back rested against the headboard of the bed and you were sat in between his legs. His gaze lingered on yours, fingers caressing your jawline lovingly. He placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"I love you," he whispered lowly in the air.

"I love you," you answered with as much fervor and love, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The kiss continued, blossoming into something more as passion rained over. His hands are safe against your back, pulling you in closer, flushed against his body.

"Do you want to-"

"Yes," you nodded eagerly, panting into the gap that was a mix of breaths.

Satoru's hands lowered to your ass, giving it a little squeeze while he helped you straddle him. His gaze went down and yours followed.

Both of you watched as he aligned himself to your aching hole. Your breath hitched momentarily when his red tip rubbed against the entrance of your pussy.

Your body slumped on Satoru's, your head falling into the crook of his neck. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly while he helped you lower yourself on his cock.

The second his cock began to enter, Satoru threw his head back, his lips parted to release a groan. You whimpered into his neck, muffled by his skin.

He was stretching your walls so good, you felt dizzy but full. You could feel his length inside you, and you were scared of even moving.

Once he was buried inside you to the hilt, he held you still to let you adjust to his size.

"You're so big, Satoru," you cried softly into his ears.

"Sorry, love," he gave you a light chuckle. "Whenever you're ready, okay? I can stay inside you like this for however long you'll let me."

"Don't- Don't say shit like that," you glared but it came off half-assedly.

"Why not? It's the truth, princess," he pouted, gently stroking your back for comfort.

"I can move now," you informed, slowly lifting yourself up with a moan.

"Shit, baby," he whimpered.

His hands returned to your ass, lifting you up as well. His entire length almost left you, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. You lowered yourself quickly, moaning in pleasure as he stretched you.

"So- Ngh- You're s'tight," he whimpered, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

You whined, slowly setting a steady pace as you began to move up and down his cock that throbbed inside you. Satoru was losing his composure and he found himself thrusting his cock inside you further.

"Fuck!" You almost screamed, falling limp into his body.

Satoru's hands on your hips tightened, his breathing erratic. He leaned into you, peppering kisses along your jawline, endlessly muttering, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

You nodded against his hair, pulling him impossibly closer but he leaned back. His arms around you guiding you to bounce on his cock, the pace increasing in speed harshly.

The sound of skin slapping against one another, paired with the wet noises of your slick mixing with his echoed throughout the room. His eyes longingly gazed into yours, flickering to your lips that were parted as a way for your whimpers to escape.

His brows furrowed eagerly, hungry to have more of you to taste. You had no idea how but it was as if you knew exactly what he wanted.

Giving him a slow nod, you collected the substance at the tip of your tongue before opening your mouth. Your tongue stuck out, and he watched with darkened anticipation as your spit fell onto his tongue and he swallowed it, humming as he did so.

He was near satisfaction, having something of yours inside of him, marking him up for life the way a ring couldn't. It would serve him as a reminder of the night you shared, not that he could ever forget any of it.

Satoru was desperate now, even more eager to mark you up the same way you marked him. His hips thrust into you, the pain smoothing out into pleasure that caused your back to arch into him.

"Shit, I think I'm close," he muttered, grunting with each clench of your pussy on his cock.

"Me too," you whimpered, wrapping your arms around him. "Satoru," you breathed next to his ear, earning a whine from him. "You can cum inside me if you want."

If he wants?

God, he needs.

He nodded eagerly, fingers carding through strands of your hair to meet him. His hips were growing sloppy, his focus was on you and only you.

Your lips latched onto his, letting him swallow your moans through his tongue that explored your mouth. He knew you were close, reminding himself of all the ways you would show the signs.

You were clenching so tightly around him, almost refusing to let go of him. His eyes rolled back, feeling the way you arched yourself into him without ever breaking the kiss.

"Satoru," you moaned loudly into him as you cried, letting your orgasm consume you.

He groaned inside your lips, the sound of his cock fucking into your cum was making him dizzy in all the best ways possible. His pace never faltered, only quickening.

His hands guided your ass still but your mind was too hazy to be able to control your body. It was his lone effort as he fucked himself into your cunt, his cock spasming inside you until finally, he released with a loud cry of your name.

You whined, feeling his warm semen mix with your own, dripping down his cock and falling to the sheets. His thrusts slowed down as he rode out his high, pushing his cum further and further into you. His head tilted back in heavenly bliss as his eyes were heavy on yours.

"I love you so much," he muttered, kissing you softly as you both settled.

"I love you, too," you replied with a small smile.

He remained inside of you for a little while before helping you get off him. He gently let you lie on the mattress as he climbed over you.

"Satoru," you called, causing him to study you properly. "If tonight is the only time we could ever do this, then, I think I want more."

Your words caused darkness to shadow his eyes. His lips settled into a gentle smile as he kissed you lovingly, pouring out all his emotions into such a simple and chaste press of lips.

"If tonight is the only night we could be together, then let's have each other until we're satisfied."

But neither of you thought you could ever be satisfied living a life without one another.

Still, it will have to do.

Because he was a Gojo.

And you were a Zenin.

And Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the bearer of Six Eyes will have to leave behind the only light in his life that stood in the shape of you.

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