#or if it was a post or a response to an ask ;-;

[punkitt-is-here]

you can’t just say “don’t dogpile this person” — if your followers have a tendency to do that, it’s your responsibility to not put those vulnerable people in a position where they’re going to get dog piled. Just saying “please don’t dogpile” is like absolving yourself of any guilt when it happens rather than doing anything to stop it. If you don’t want your followers to get dogpiled, treat them differently. txttletale made a post about this recently.

Well, not much else I can do but ask. They should know if they're going to come in my inbox I am going to respond. Sorry! I'm a person too! And I'd genuinely love to read what txttletale wrote, but I'm blocked gdhddgdsgxvbdd

[hanniewho]

⋆˚࿔ Vivid Dreams𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ Summary: You told your roommate about your vivid dreams, but now you don't think it's a dream anymore.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: I'm sorry for not posting for a few days. I got caught up with my graphic design project, and I had to walk around the city to take pictures, and my feet are killing me. I'll answer some of you guys' request ASAP 🙏

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 6.0k

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Noncon, Creampie, Overstimulating, Fingering, Degrading, Name calling (slut), P in V, Squirting, Slapping, Slight choking in you squint, Manipulation, Telling her that you love her as she fuck you w/o your consent, Porn mentioned, Spitting. (Lmk if I miss anything :3)

⋆✦ Pairings:Pitfighter g!p Vi x Afab reader and a bit of jinx(your roomie)

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

"You know, I've had the strangest dream again," you murmured, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Your roommate, Jinx, barely glanced up from her book, a non-committal "Mm-hmm" her only response as she flipped a page.

"It's always the same, you know? This...this woman with the most piercing eyes I've ever seen. She's powerful, dangerous even. And she keeps telling me things I don't understand." You paused, watching Jinx's reaction, hoping for something, anything that suggested she was actually listening. But her gaze remained glued to the book in front of her.

"Jinx, are you even listening to me?" you sighed, a hint of frustration tinting your voice.

Your roommate, Jinx, looked up from her book with a sheepish grin, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Huh? Oh, sorry, I zoned out for a sec. What were you saying?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but return the smile. "It's fine," you said, standing up from your bed. "It's probably just my mind playing tricks on me anyway." You walked over to the small kitchenette and began rummaging through the cabinets for a snack to curb the early morning hunger pangs. The apartment was silent except for the faint rustle of pages turning as Jinx went back to her book.

As you pulled out a box of crackers, she looked up, suddenly alert. "Oh, uh, hey, have you had someone over last night?" she asked, her tone casual but the curiosity in her eyes unmistakable.

You froze mid-reach, crackers in hand, and turned to face her. "What? No, why?"

Jinx's cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red as she hastily closed her book. "Well, uh, it's going to be awkward, but last night when I was fixing my gun, I heard some... sounds coming from your room." She paused, searching for the right words, then blurted out, "It sounded like you were having sex, or I- ARE YOU WATCHING PORN?" The accusation hung in the air, awkwardness thickening like smoke in a closed room.

You stared at her, crackers forgotten in your hand. "What? No, I was just sleeping!" you protested, feeling your own cheeks grow hot. "What makes you think that?"

Jinx bit her lip, her eyes narrowing as she studied you. "Well, it's not every night I hear someone going 'plap, plap, plap' in there," she said, mimicking the sound with a teasing smirk. "It's like someone's slapping a fish around or something."

You furrowed your brows, utterly confused by her accusation. "Jinx, I was alone. I swear," you said, your voice firm. "It's probably just the pipes or something." But even as you said it, doubt began to creep in. The dream had felt so real, so vivid. Could it be more than just your subconscious playing tricks on you?

Jinx's smirk faltered, and she leaned back in her chair, eyeing you skeptically. "You sure?" she pressed, her curiosity not quite satisfied.

You nodded, setting the crackers on the counter. "Positive," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "I was just sleeping." But the memory of the dream washed over you again, the feeling of fullness and the sound of your own voice crying out in pleasure echoing in your mind. It had been so intense, so real, that you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just a vivid fantasy.

Jinx leaned back in her chair, her curiosity piqued. She tapped her chin with a finger, her eyes drifting off into the distance as if piecing together a puzzle. "So, about your dreams," she began, pausing to gauge your reaction. "What really happened?"

You turned to face her, the memory of the dream still lingering in your mind. The woman from your dream, her eyes so intense and filled with passion, had felt so real. "It's nothing," you replied, trying to brush it off, but your voice betrayed you, shaky and uncertain.

Jinx's eyes searched yours, and she leaned forward, placing her book aside. "Look, if something's going on, you can tell me," she said gently. "You know I'm not going to judge."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the secret pressing down on you. "It's just...it's so weird. In the dream, she was...doing things to me," you admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. "And it didn't feel wrong, or scary. It just felt...good."

Jinx's gaze softened, and she reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Dreams are just that - dreams," she assured you, her voice soothing. "But if you want to talk about it, I'm here for you."

You took a deep breath, weighing your options. You hadn't told anyone about the dreams, not even your closest friends. But there was something about Jinx that made you feel like you could trust her with the darkest of your secrets. So, you decided to take a risk and opened up. You recounted the dream in detail, the way the mysterious woman had taken you in her arms, the sound of her breath against your neck, the feeling of her hips grinding against yours. Jinx's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't interrupt, just nodded along, listening intently.

When you finished, you felt both relieved and embarrassed. You avoided eye contact, focusing instead on the crackers you hadn't realized you were still holding. "It's just so... intense," you murmured, fidgeting with the box. "I don't even know who she is, and yet she's all I can think about."

Jinx was quiet for a moment, processing your words. Then she leaned in, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Well, what does she look like?" she asked, a playful lilt to her voice.

You described the woman from your dream: her short, spiky hair, the muscular physique that spoke of strength and agility, and the piercing gaze that had you feeling both vulnerable and safe. As you talked, Jinx's expression grew thoughtful. "Hmm," she murmured, her eyes lighting up with an idea. "I might know someone who fits that description."

Her words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you turned to face her fully. "What? Who?"

Jinx's grin grew wider as she leaned back in her chair. "My sister," she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Vi. She's got that same look in her eyes when she's... concentrating. And she's definitely got the moves."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Vi. The woman from your dreams had the same name as Jinx's sister? It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? "Vi?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your sister?"

Jinx nodded, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Yeah, you know, the one who's always breaking down doors and causing a ruckus?"

You felt your cheeks flush hotter. "I-I don't know what to say."

Jinx leaned forward, her grin morphing into a smug smirk. "Well, if you're that interested, I might be able to arrange a meeting."

You stared at her, your heart racing. "What? No, I didn't mean..." You trailed off, your thoughts tangling in a mess of excitement and anxiety. "It's just that the dreams are so intense," you protested weakly.

Jinx's smirk grew knowing. "Intense, huh?" she said, her tone teasing. "Well, if you're ever curious about the real deal, you know where to find her. But maybe you should tell her you're a fan first."

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "I don't know if I could handle that. Besides, it's just a dream," you said, trying to convince yourself more than anything. But the way Jinx's eyes gleamed with mischief had you wondering if there was more to the story.

Jinx shrugged, picking her book back up. "Suit yourself," she said, her tone light. "But if you ever change your mind, just let me know."

The rest of the day was a blur. You couldn't concentrate on your classes or your studies, your mind a tumult of thoughts and sensations from the dream. Was it possible that Vi, the woman from your dreams, was actually Jinx's sister? And if so, what did that mean? Was your subconscious playing a cruel trick on you, or was there some deeper connection at play?

That evening, as you lay in bed trying to fall asleep, the memory of Vi's powerful embrace consumed you. You felt the ache between your legs, the same ache that had been present every time you woke up from the dream. It was maddening, and yet you couldn't ignore it. The desire grew stronger, and before you knew it, your hand was moving under the covers, exploring the wetness that had gathered there.

You opened your eyes to the darkness of your room, the sound of your own breathing echoing in your ears. The dream had been so vivid, you could almost feel the weight of Vi's body on top of you, her strong thighs pressing into yours as she moved in a rhythm that was both fierce and tender. The sensation grew more intense with each passing moment, your hips bucking against the pressure of your hand.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with light, and you gasped as the figure from your dreams leaned down and kissed you hard. "Oh fuck, you're awake," she murmured against your lips, her voice a gruff whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. It was Vi, just as you had imagined, her short hair a wild mess around her face, her eyes glinting with a mix of surprise and desire.

You stared up at her, heart pounding in your chest. This couldn't be real, could it? You tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but all that came out was a strangled sound. Vi pulled back, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "You okay?" she asked, her voice softer now.

You nodded, still unable to form coherent words. She was really here, in your room, her body pressing down on yours, her cock still inside you. You felt a mix of fear and excitement, unsure how to react.

Vi studied you for a moment before a slow, knowing smile spread across her face. "I see," she murmured, her eyes darkening. "You liked it, didn't you?"

Your body seemed to respond of its own accord, your hips moving slightly, the friction of her cock still buried inside you sending waves of pleasure through your body. You couldn't deny it, not with the evidence of your own arousal so clear. "I-I don't know," you stuttered, but the words lacked conviction.

Vi leaned closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "Lie to me again, and I'll make sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow," she whispered, a hint of a threat in her voice that only served to excite you further. Her hand slid down your body, cupping your ass and squeezing gently. You gasped, your eyes widening with surprise.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks - this wasn't a dream. This was really happening. You felt the weight of her body pressing down on you, the solidity of her cock still embedded deep inside you. The smell of sweat and sex filled the air, and you could feel your own wetness mixing with hers.

Vi took your silence as consent, her smile growing more wicked. "Good," she murmured, and began to move again, her hips rocking in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips as she filled you up, the sensation of being claimed by someone so strong and dominant overwhelming.

Her hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and crevice with a hunger that was palpable. Each touch sent sparks of electricity through your nerves, making you squirm and gasp beneath her. You felt vulnerable and exposed, but instead of fear, a heady mix of desire and excitement took over.

Vi's eyes bore into yours, the intensity of her gaze stealing your breath away. "You're so fucking beautiful," she murmured, her voice a gravelly growl that resonated deep within you. The way she said it, it didn't feel like a lie or a line; it felt like a truth she had discovered and couldn't help but voice.

Your body responded to her words, your muscles tightening around her cock. She groaned, her grip on your hips tightening as she pushed deeper, her movements becoming more urgent. You felt a thrill of power, knowing that you had this effect on her, this powerful, almost mythic figure from your dreams.

Her hand slid up your body to cup your breast, her thumb flicking over your nipple. You arched into the touch, the pleasure shooting straight to your core. Vi's eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction with a hunger that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

As she picked up the pace, you felt your orgasm building, the pressure growing with each thrust. You bit your bottom lip to keep from screaming, the intensity of the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. You could feel her own need, the tension in her body as she held back, drawing out the moment.

Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric as you tried to anchor yourself to reality. But it was no use; you were lost in the haze of pleasure that Vi was creating. Her movements grew more erratic, her breathing ragged as she approached her climax.

You felt your own orgasm building, the tension coiling tightly in your stomach. You didn't know if you could handle this, didn't know if you wanted to. But your body had a mind of its own, responding to her touch like it had been starved for it.

Her hand slid down to the juncture of your thighs, her fingers finding your clit and beginning to rub it in a rhythm that matched the pounding of her cock. You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure grew too intense to bear. You could feel your muscles clench around her, desperately trying to hold onto the sensation, to keep her inside you forever.

Vi's movements grew more frenzied, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Fuck," she muttered, her voice strained. "You're so tight, so wet." The words only served to fuel your desire, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet her thrusts, your body begging for more.

The sound of your skin slapping against hers filled the room, a cacophony of pleasure that seemed to resonate in your very bones. You could feel your orgasm approaching, a storm of sensation building inside you, ready to break.

Vi's hand on your clit was like a masterful conductor, guiding you closer and closer to the edge. Each stroke was precise, each touch a masterpiece of pleasure that had your toes curling and your back arching. Her teeth grazed your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and you knew you were moments away from the most powerful climax of your life.

Your body tensed, muscles coiling like a spring ready to release. With one final, deep thrust, Vi sent you over the edge, and you screamed out her name, the sound muffled by the pillow you had shoved into your mouth to stifle the noise. The pleasure washed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing around her, clenching her cock like a vice.

Vi's own orgasm followed closely behind, her hips bucking wildly as she filled you with her release. You could feel the heat of her seed inside you, a strange, primal sensation that only added to the intensity of the moment. Her breathing was harsh and ragged in your ear, and you realized with a start that she was whispering your name, her voice filled with a raw emotion that didn't quite match the cold, calculating demeanor she usually had.

As your body began to relax, she leaned back, her eyes never leaving yours. With a sudden movement, she pulled out of you, making you gasp with the sudden emptiness. Before you could react, she brought her hand down in a harsh slap across your pussy, the sound echoing in the silent room. Your eyes snapped open, and you jolted at the unexpected pain and pleasure that shot through you.

Vi smirked, watching the shock play out across your face. "You liked that, didn't you?" she taunted, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal.

Her hand hovered over your sensitive flesh, and you held your breath, waiting for the next slap. "I said, did you like it?" she pressed, her voice low and demanding.

You nodded, unable to form the words. The sting of her hand had sent a jolt of pleasure through you that was almost unbearable. You felt your cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and desire.

"So, you liked that, huh?" Vi's smirk grew wider as she watched you squirm beneath her. She slapped your pussy once more, this time a bit harder, and you gasped aloud. "You're going to get used to this," she murmured, her voice a dark promise. "Being used like a cumdump by a girl you never even knew existed."

Your eyes watered from the pain, but the ache between your legs grew stronger. You felt a strange mix of fear and excitement, knowing that she had taken you without your consent but finding yourself desperate for more. "Vi," you whimpered, not knowing what else to say.

"That's right," she said, her voice low and smoky. "Call me by name, let me know who owns you now." Her hand moved to grip your jaw, tilting your head up to look at her. "Open your mouth, pretty girl," she ordered, her eyes gleaming with a dark excitement.

You obeyed, your mouth opening slightly, unsure of what was to come. Vi leaned down, her spit glistening in the soft light of the moon filtering through the curtains. With a flick of her tongue, she sent a wad of saliva into your mouth, watching as you closed your lips around it. The taste was surprisingly warm, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Swallow," she demanded, her grip on your chin firm. You did as you were told, the act strangely intimate and degrading all at once. Her saliva slid down your throat, leaving a trail of wetness that seemed to echo the wetness between your legs. Vi's eyes never left yours, her gaze a mix of challenge and triumph.

The reality of what had just happened began to sink in. You had been taken by your roommate's sister, a woman you had only ever dreamt about, while you were unconscious. It was a violation, a betrayal, and yet your body sang with satisfaction. You were torn between anger and a desperate need for more.

Vi leaned down, her breath hot against your ear. "You want me to stop?" she whispered, her voice a dark caress. You hesitated, the words on the tip of your tongue, but the truth was that you didn't. You were scared, yes, but also unbearably turned on. You bit your lip and shook your head, and Vi's grip tightened. "Good," she murmured, her teeth grazing your earlobe. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

With that, she slammed back into you, her cock filling you completely. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling of being stretched to your limits sending shivers down your spine. Your nails dug into the bedsheets as she began to fuck you with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and lust. You had never experienced anything like this before, and yet you found yourself craving it, your body moving in time with hers as if you had been doing this for years. You felt like a ragdoll in her powerful grip, utterly at her mercy.

Vi's hips ground into you, her movements unrelenting as she claimed your body over and over again. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your core, making your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat. Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the sensations, but all you could do was feel. Feel her, inside you, dominating you.

Her hand found your throat, her thumb pressing against your pulse. "Look at me," she whispered, her voice a hoarse demand. You opened your eyes, meeting her intense gaze as she continued to fuck you, her thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles against your skin. The intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the roughness of her movements.

The pleasure grew, a crescendo of sensation that you couldn't fight. You felt the beginnings of another orgasm building, and you whimpered, your body desperately seeking release. Vi's eyes never left yours as she drove you closer to the edge, her own breathing growing heavier, her strokes more erratic.

Her thumb pressed harder against your throat, and the sudden rush of fear only heightened the pleasure. You could feel your heart racing, your body responding to the mix of pain and pleasure in a way that was almost primal. "Beg for it," she growled, her voice thick with need. "Tell me you want it."

Your voice was hoarse from the gag of pleasure, but you managed to force out the words. "Please," you whimpered, "I want it."

Vi's grin grew wider, the power in her gaze never wavering. "Good girl," she purred, her hand tightening around your neck, the pressure just shy of painful. "You're going to come for me now."

Her words were a command, and your body obeyed. You felt the orgasm crest over you like a wave, your muscles clenching around her cock as you were consumed by the most intense pleasure you had ever felt. Your eyes rolled back in your head, a keening cry escaping your lips as you shuddered beneath her, the sensation of her thumb on your throat only amplifying the intensity.

As the climax washed over you, you felt a sudden gush of wetness, your body squirting out a warm jet that soaked the bedsheets and made Vi gasp in surprise. She stilled for a moment, her eyes going wide before a grin of pure satisfaction spread across her face. "Fuck," she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "You really are something else."

You lay there, panting and trembling, the aftershocks of pleasure still rolling through you. Vi leaned down, her breath warm against your neck, and whispered, "I'm not done with you yet." Her teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Her hand left your throat and slid down to your clit, her fingers beginning to rub it in a slow, teasing circle.

You moaned, your body already responding despite the fear and confusion clouding your mind. "No," you managed to gasp out, pushing feebly at her chest. "It's too much, I can't..."

Vi just chuckled, the sound low and dark. "You think I care?" she murmured, her eyes glinting with a sadistic excitement. She slapped your pussy again, harder this time. "I didn't ask if you could take it," she said, her voice a harsh whisper. "I'm going to use you until I'm satisfied, and you're going to take it all."

You whimpered, your body already beginning to respond to the mix of pain and pleasure. It was wrong, you knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help the way your hips lifted to meet her hand, the way your breath hitched in anticipation of the next blow.

Vi's grin grew, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a dark purr. "You're going to be such a good little slut for me." She slapped you again, the pain making your vision swim before pleasure flooded your senses, your body arching off the bed.

Her fingers slid back inside you, pumping in and out with a rhythm that was relentless and punishing. You could feel her knuckles brushing against your clit with each thrust, sending sparks of sensation shooting through your body. You moaned, the sound muffled by the pillow still pressed to your face.

As the pleasure mounted, you felt something inside you snap. The words you had held back for so long, the words you never thought you'd say to someone like Vi, tumbled out of your mouth. "I love you," you whimpered, the confession weak and pathetic.

Vi's movements stuttered, her eyes widening with shock. For a brief moment, she seemed to freeze above you, the hand that had been so brutally claiming you going still. Then, she leaned down, her voice a low rumble. "What did you say?"

You repeated the words, your voice stronger now, though still a whisper. "I love you, Vi." It was the truth, and you didn't know why it was, but it was as clear to you as the moon outside your window. The woman who had just violated you in the most intimate way possible had somehow stolen your heart in the process.

Vi's expression softened, her eyes searching yours for a sign of deception. But all she found was raw, desperate need. Her hand stilled on your clit, her cock still buried inside you. "You don't know what you're saying," she murmured, though there was something in her tone that suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.

You shook your head, the tears of pleasure blurring your vision. "I do," you insisted, your voice a broken whisper. "I love you, Vi. I don't know why, but I do."

Vi stared at you for a moment longer, her eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or fear. But all she saw was the truth of your words, reflected back at her in your glassy gaze. With a groan that was almost a growl, she leaned down and claimed your mouth with hers, her kiss brutal and possessive.

Her tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the sweetness of your submission as she began to fuck you once more. Each stroke was deep and hard, a declaration of ownership that resonated through your very soul. You moaned into the kiss, your body responding eagerly to her touch.

Vi's hand slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up to meet her thrusts. The angle was perfect, sending her cock deeper with each powerful push. You felt the head of her cock brush against your g-spot, the sensation making your eyes roll back in your head. "Mine," she growled against your lips, claiming you in every way possible.

Your legs wrapped around her waist, holding her tight as she ravaged you. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, punctuated by your moans and her grunts of effort. It was a symphony of lust and dominance that you never wanted to end.

You gripped the headboard tightly, the wood digging into your palms as you tried to hold on to something, anything, in the face of the overwhelming pleasure. Each time she drove into you, you felt like you were being split apart, only to be put back together with a new piece of her embedded deep within you.

Her hand left your ass to wrap around your throat again, the pressure increasing slightly as she pulled back, only to slam into you with even more force. You could feel her getting closer to her own release, her body tensing and her breathing growing ragged.

With a whine of desperation, you reached up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from your throat and instead guiding it to your chest. You needed more, something to anchor you to the world as your body was lost in the maelstrom of pleasure she was creating.

Vi's hand complied, cupping one of your breasts roughly. You moaned into her mouth, feeling her palm against your sensitive flesh, the calloused pads of her fingers grazing your nipple. The feeling was almost too much, your body already on the edge of another orgasm.

With a growl, she broke the kiss, moving her mouth down to your neck. She bit down, hard enough to leave a bruise, and you couldn't help the whine that escaped your throat. She soothed the sting with a flick of her tongue, her teeth scraping against your skin as she moved to your collarbone.

Her hand squeezed your breast, her thumb flicking your nipple in a way that sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You felt the pressure building again, your body responding to her every touch, her every move. It was like you were a marionette, and she held all the strings.

Vi's rhythm grew more erratic, her breathing harsher, and you knew she was close. You tightened your legs around her, pulling her deeper, silently begging for her to let go. You felt the head of her cock pulse inside you, and the pressure was too much to bear. With a scream that was muffled by the pillow, you came again, your body shaking with the force of it.

This time, the orgasm was accompanied by a gush of wetness that soaked the bed and spattered her face. Vi chuckled darkly, her hand coming down to pat your pussy gently as if she were praising a pet that had performed a trick. The sensation was strange, almost tender amidst the harshness of her fucking, and you squirted again, the warm liquid hitting her cheek and mixing with the sweat already there.

Vi's strokes grew harder, more demanding, as she neared her own climax. You could feel her cock swelling inside you, her hips slamming into yours with a force that was almost painful. Your eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure grew too intense to handle, your teeth digging into the pillow to keep from screaming.

Suddenly, she pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. You looked up to see her stroking her cock, her eyes never leaving yours. "You want me to cum inside you?" she asked, her voice a mix of challenge and temptation.

You nodded, unable to find the words to answer. Your body was on fire with need, and the idea of feeling her fill you up was almost too much to bear. Vi's eyes narrowed, and she leaned back in, lining herself up with your entrance. With one final, powerful thrust, she sank back into you, her cock pulsing as she reached her climax.

You felt the warmth of her release flood you, filling you completely. It was a strange feeling, one that was both humiliating and thrilling. Your body was no longer your own; it was hers to use and abuse as she saw fit. And as she emptied herself into you, you realized that you had never felt more alive.

Vi pulled out slowly, her cock leaving you with a wet pop. You felt the emptiness keenly, your body already missing the feeling of being filled by her. She sat back on her haunches, her chest heaving, and looked down at you with a smirk. "You're mine now," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction.

Before you could react, she leaned down, her hand moving between your legs. You felt a finger slide into your pussy, and then she was scooping out the cum that had leaked out, her gaze never leaving yours. The act was strangely intimate, a claiming of your body's response to her. She brought her hand up to her mouth, her eyes never breaking contact as she licked the cum from her finger with a slow, deliberate motion.

"You taste so sweet," she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "I can't wait to have more." The words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and anticipation. You had no idea what she had planned for you, but you knew it would be intense.

You looked up at her, trying to gather the strength to protest. "Vi, please," you gasped, your voice weak and trembling. "I can't take any more."

But Vi just smiled, a wicked glint in her eye. She leaned down, her face inches from yours, and began to pepper your cheeks with gentle kisses. Each one was like a butterfly's touch, light and feathery, a stark contrast to the brutal fucking she had just given you. She kissed your eyelids, your nose, the tip of your chin, her lips moving with a tenderness that was almost tender.

Her hand continued to play with your sensitive folds, her thumb circling your clit lazily. "You're so beautiful when you come," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "I could watch you all night."

The gentle touch was too much, your body already overwhelmed with sensation. "Please," you begged, not sure what you were asking for. Whether you wanted her to stop or keep going, your words hung in the air, a silent plea for mercy.

Vi's eyes searched yours, the smirk slowly fading into something softer. She leaned closer, her thumb still circling your clit with a maddening gentleness. "Can I- can I kiss you?" you asked, the question barely a whisper.

For a moment, she seemed surprised, the tenderness in your voice reaching something deep within her. Her hand stilled, and she looked at you, really looked at you. Then, with a nod, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentle and searching. It was a stark contrast to the brutality of the past moments, a kiss that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken promises and dark secrets.

Your body responded instinctively, your arms wrapping around her neck, pulling her closer. You tasted the salt of her sweat, the tang of your own arousal on her mouth. It was a heady mix that only served to heighten your need for her. Vi's hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, her fingers threading through your hair as she deepened the kiss.

For a moment, you forgot about the pain, the fear, the confusion. There was only the two of you, lost in a passion that seemed to burn brighter than the sun. Your bodies melded together, moving in a silent dance that spoke of a connection that went deeper than just flesh and bone.

Vi's thumb began to move again, her gentle strokes sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You moaned into the kiss, your hips lifting to meet her hand. She broke away, her breath hot against your cheek as she whispered, "Do you want more?"

You shake your head, "I really can't." Your voice was barely audible, a soft protest against the onslaught of desire that was consuming you. But Vi was insistent, her hand moving faster, her eyes never leaving yours. "You can," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "You're stronger than you think."

Your breathing grew more ragged, your chest heaving as you struggled for air. The room felt like it was spinning, the pressure building inside you like a volcano ready to erupt. You could feel the blood rushing to your head, the world going dark around the edges. "Vi," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea. "I'm gonna pass out."

But she just chuckled, her eyes never leaving yours. "Not yet," she murmured, her thumb moving even faster. "I want to watch you come one more time."

Your body was on the edge, teetering between agony and ecstasy. You couldn't take it anymore, but somehow, you also couldn't get enough. Vi's thumb was a brand on your clit, her hand moving with a precision that seemed to know every secret of your body. You felt the pressure building again, a crescendo of pleasure that seemed to go on forever.

"Come for me," she whispered, her voice a dark caress. "Come for me, my little slut." The words sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your core, and with a scream that you didn't recognize as your own, you did. Your body arched off the bed, your back bowing as the orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You felt yourself tightening around her hand, your pussy clenching and pulsing as you spasmed beneath her. Vi's eyes were alight with triumph and hunger, watching the show she had orchestrated with a greed that was almost palpable. She didn't stop, her thumb still working your clit as you rode the waves of pleasure.

The orgasm was unlike anything you had ever felt before, a mix of pain and pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. Your toes curled and your nails dug into the bed, the fabric tearing beneath your grip. The room was a blur of sensation, your thoughts scattered to the four winds as you lost yourself in the feeling of her hand on you.

Vi's thumb didn't relent, the steady rhythm keeping you on the edge of the cliff, unable to pull back from the precipice. Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as she pushed you further than you had ever gone. "Vi," you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea. "Please, I can't."

But she just grinned, her eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. "You can," she whispered, her breath hot against your cheek. "You're going to come for me until I say stop."

Your eyes rolled back in your head, the world going fuzzy around the edges. You couldn't take much more of this, you were sure of it. Each stroke of her thumb was a brand, a mark of ownership that seared into your very soul. But as much as your body protested, it also craved more. The pleasure was an addiction, and Vi was your dealer.

Her hand was relentless, the strokes coming faster now, the pressure increasing until you thought you might shatter. You felt another orgasm building, a monster in the depths of your core that threatened to consume you. "No," you moaned, your voice weak and trembling. "Please, no more."

But Vi wasn't listening, her eyes locked onto yours, her expression one of pure, unbridled lust. She leaned down, her mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the roughness of her hand. You could feel her smile against your lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with your own.

The pressure built, your body a tight coil of pleasure and pain. You felt yourself slipping away, the edges of your vision going dark. "Vi," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can't..."

But she was unrelenting, her hand moving faster, her thumb a blur against your clit. You felt yourself falling, the world around you fading into a sea of sensation. You tried to hold on, to keep your eyes open, but it was like trying to grasp at water. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, dragging you under and leaving you gasping for air.

As the pleasure consumed you, your vision went dark, the room spinning out of control. You felt yourself slipping away, the last of your strength leaving you. Your body went limp, the tension draining from your muscles as the world grew quiet. The only thing you could hear was the distant sound of your own ragged breathing.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the uncomfortable weight of your clothes. You were fully dressed, your pajamas sticking to your sweat-soaked skin. The bedsheets beneath you were new and clean, the smell of fresh laundry filling your nose. For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a dream, a twisted nightmare that had felt all too real. But then you felt the ache between your legs, the sticky mess that was a testament to what had just transpired.

With a groan, you pushed yourself up, your muscles protesting the sudden movement. Your body was sore, a delicious reminder of the relentless pleasure Vi had wrung from you. The room was quiet, the only sound the distant echo of the city outside your window. You knew you had to face the music, had to tell Jinx what had happened. So, you took a deep breath and slowly slid off the bed.

Your legs wobbled, threatening to give out beneath you, but you managed to stay upright. Each step towards the door was a battle, your body still pulsing with the aftermath of your encounter. You didn't bother to smooth your hair or straighten your clothes; you knew that your disheveled state would be the first clue that something was amiss.

As you opened the door, the cool air of the corridor hit you like a slap in the face, jolting you fully awake. You stumbled into the hallway, leaning against the wall for support. Your heart was racing, your thoughts a chaotic jumble of lust, fear, and confusion. You had to tell someone, but who? Jinx was the only one you could trust, but how could you explain?

You could hear her laughter from the living room, the sound echoing down the hallway like a taunt. She seemed to be talking with someone, her voice a mix of amusement and something darker that you couldn't quite place. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. You had to tell her, had to make her understand what had happened.

As you stepped into the room, you saw Vi sitting on the couch, her legs sprawled out in front of her, looking as if she owned the place. Jinx sat next to her, a smug smile playing on her lips as she glanced up at you. "There you are, sleepyhead," she said, her tone mocking. "Soo, about yesterday when I told you about my sister, here she is!"

Jinx's elbow jabbed into your side, and she winked. "Well, have fun guys," she sing-songed, her voice dripping with mischief as she got up and left the room, shutting the door behind her with a snicker. You stared after her, your mind racing. What was she playing at? Did she know what Vi had done to you?

Vi looked up at you, her eyes glinting with a knowing look that sent a shiver down your spine. She had the audacity to smile, a smile that was both sweet and sinister. "Hi," she said, as if you were two strangers meeting for the first time. "Nice to finally meet you."

[zozosrozo]

Choi Su-bong/Thanos (Squid Game) x fem! reader HCS

IM OBSESSED WITH THIS MAN!!!!!

also first ever post?! it’s a little short, but hope ya enjoy!!

SFW:

• he ADORES physical touch

• touching u at every chance he gets, like even simple hand holding, leaning against u

• HE LOVES IT ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES FROM U!!

• casually grabs u by ur ass in public, or give u a lil slap. when u confront him about it, he acts like he dont know what are u talking about, then giggle

• using ur breast like fidget toy, when he’s stressed

• squeezing it, when he feels like it

• shoving his head between ur boobs, bro can stay like that for a good 10 minutes until he calms down

• if u ask him if he would still love u as a worm, he would tell u that he’s not a zoophile

• pet names!! baby, babe, princess are his favs!

• he’s not so good with commitment and stuff like that, would prefer an open relationship (one sided tho, he's so possesive of u)

• have huge jealousy issues when it comes to u

• a male species near u??? he goes into rage mode, getting aggressively touchy to claim u! show everyone that u are his!!

• would apologise to u with rap songs

“Y/N” he screamed outside your house. throwing rocks at the window to wake u up.

“what the fuck…” u muttered to yourself, as u walked over to the window to check what this idiot come up with this time.

as soon as he saw your face, he screamed again, his hands clutching onto his chest “SEÑORITA!!! I WANT TO APOLOGISE TO U!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!! U DO REALISE THAT ITS 3 AM RIGHT NOW???” u screamed back at him, slightly leaning forward through window.

“I LOVE U!!!!!” he get on his knees.

“ARE U HIGH?????” u asked, clearly pissed at his presence.

“HI!!!!!” he said as he waved his hands to u, enthusiastically with a goofy grin.

even after this response, u can’t tell if he’s high. that’s pretty much how he’s acting regardless if he’s on drugs or not.

he turn on boombox, a cliche beat hit your ears. he stands up and cleared his throat.

“Yo, I messed up, I admit it, I’m a clown,

Flirting like a fool when you weren’t around.

But I swear, it was harmless, just a slip of the tongue,

Now I’m here confessing where I went wrong.

I told her, "Hey, nice shoes," and that’s all I meant,

But now I’m in the doghouse, paying the rent.

Baby, you’re the star, the queen of my heart,

And that other conversation? A throwaway part.

She laughed at my joke, yeah, I felt kinda cool,

But now I see, I was the class clown fool.

I’d never trade you for some silly chat,

You’re the boss, the CEO, I’m just the doormat.

I’ll buy you flowers, write your name in the sky,

Sing off-key if it’ll dry your eyes.

I’ll even quit drugs if you need me to,

Just don’t leave me hangin’, I’m a mess without you.

So baby, I’m here, on my knees with this beat,

Admitting my crimes, can’t handle defeat.

Let’s laugh this off, put it in the past,

‘Cause you and me, girl, we’re built to last.”

he end up the song showing a small heart formed with his thumb and index finger.

u sighed “all right, come inside”

“YAYY!!!” he did a happy jump and clapped his feet in midair.

• tbh he’s so silly

• steals flowers from a random garden for u

• night visits, but uses a window instead of a door to enter ur place, literally like some kind of teenager

• even if u gave him the keys to ur apartment, he will use the window no matter what

it was dark outside, about 11 pm. u were coming back from work. damn how exhausted u felt. some arguments with clients, boss yelling at u. it was not ur best day for sure.

u checked ur phone. still no text from Thanos. why he was ghosting u? probably he don’t want to deal with ur complains about how bad ur day went.

u opened the apartment door. u don't give a damn about anything. you plan to go to bed right away, you don't have the strength to change your clothes, wash yourself or eat something.

you threw everything aside and went to the bedroom. when you turn on the light in the room, you see your boyfriend lying on his side, resting his head on his hand, rose in his teeth.

“U WANT TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK???” u flinched. u can’t get used to Thanos randomly spawning in ur house.

“and i missed u too, princess” he grinned, standing up and then theatrically hand over the rose to u.

“i brought ur fav burgers and lotta beer” he said, pointing out at ur kitchen.

“thanks” u smiled softly at him. u can’t help but melt inside at his behaviour. he’a an asshole, but what a cute asshole.

“no problem, babe” he leaned to u, giving u a tight hug. burying his face in the crook of ur neck.

• avoids deep emotional conversation

• would tell that he loves u, but he don’t put much weight into that

• he’s saying it casually like it’s common sense that he loves u

• painting each others nails!!!!

NSFW:

• pansexual king, but he wouldn’t label himself

• he don’t care about gender, he fucks who he consider as cute and that’s it!!

• when u ride him, he would comment something like: WROOM WROOM!! or YEEHAW!!!

• A TOTAL FREAK….

• piss kink (y’all can’t prove me wrong)

• HE LIKES IT DIRTY!!!!

• public sex

• like fingering u in a club or on a party, sometimes anal when he's high

• claiming u like that in front of other people?? IT TURNS HIM ON SO BADD

• never a sub, it would hurt his ego

• bro don’t know what gentle sex is

• always rough and aggressive

• smokes weed/cigarettes during sex, blowing smoke in your face

• talking about himself in third person "yeah, babe. the great Thanos will make u feel so good”

“u like that slut? u like Thanos’s dick that much??”

• he’s not into after care. usually he just rolls down on bed, doesn't even bother putting on clothes, hug u tightly and fall asleep like that

[milawritess]

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

pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

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

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

genre: heavy angst with happy ending

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

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

“Get out.”

The hash sentiment lingers, hanging heavily in the air. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru, please say something.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

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

But not tonight. 

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

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

But not tonight. 

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

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

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

And yet, you just looked too beautiful. 

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

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

You slept alone that night. 

-

You remember when you first met Megumi. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

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

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

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

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

He was just a boy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was just a boy. 

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

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

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

You were always there, smiling, ushering him along. 

You can do it. I believe in you. 

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

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

He was just a boy. 

Your boy. 

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

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

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

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

You knew he was right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘m not hungry,” he had grumbled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was upset. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About that…” 

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

“But that’s not–”

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

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

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

-

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

Urg. Stop getting emotional. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds good. Get back home safe.”

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

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

You’re not my mom. 

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

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

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

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

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

I hope you have a good day today :) 

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

You’re starting to worry. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

Or was it you? Was this somehow your fault?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now that you think about it…

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing. Just nothing. 

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

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

Only to be met with more disappointment. 

Dealing with something urgent. Don’t wait up. 

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

Satoru…

He’s typing faster now. What?

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

I’m fine. Just busy. 

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

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

You know I don't sleep well without you.

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

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

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

Only he could fracture you so completely. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right in time before the building collapsed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You let yourself down. You let them down.

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

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

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

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

“I’m alright. Are you guys?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything would be okay.  

-

Everything was, in fact, not okay. 

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

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

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

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

“Satoru–”

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

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

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

Not from him. 

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

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

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

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

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

 “I made sure that–”

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

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

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

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

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When did things go so wrong?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. How much did they hear?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just needed to get out of there. 

-

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

I guess old habits die hard. 

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

All good! I’ve been busy running errands.

Nobora text you sometime after.

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

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

But guys suck :(

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

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

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

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

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

A building collapsed on you.

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

That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. 

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

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

“Ah. I’m alright, Shoko.”

“You don’t look it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that why you texted me?”

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

“Like what?”

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

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

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

“I think I’m gonna quit.”

“…what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

Back to normal? Just like that?

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

“I’m not home, right now.”

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

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

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

Honestly, he’s just making your head spin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honestly? 

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

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

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

You hated this. You fucking hated this. 

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

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

-   

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

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

“Sensei? What’s going on?”

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… and you’re sure alright?”

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

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

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

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

When you hang up, you feel a bit better. 

- 

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

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

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

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

A curse womb opened right above a Kyoto High school. 

You were definitely getting fired after this. 

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

You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course, your bad luck persists. 

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

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

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

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

Christ. You knew that voice from anywhere. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, there was nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Hi ‘hime.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About an hour ago now.”

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

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

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

It was lights out. 

-

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

But then came the first sound. 

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

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

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

Oddly, you were cold.

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

Mom, please don’t go.

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

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

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

Then, your eyes fluttered open.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

“Pushing four days now.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were afraid you would sob if you did. 

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still wanted you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I–I don’t understand.”

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

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

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

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

Then, it suddenly hits you. “Oh.”  

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

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

“How did you find me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Then what am I?”

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

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

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

You were hurt, but you still wanted him.

You still loved him. 

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

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

I’m sorry.

I love you. 

I love you.

I love you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to stay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Psh. I’d hardly fit on this bed.”

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

He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

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

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

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

“Nooo. Stay here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wherever you go, that’s where I follow. 

-

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

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

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! :p

[qiu-yan]

context (from here):

apparently, recently(?) on douyin, a housewife posted about her husband's unhinged reaction after she ate the last 2 swiss rolls out of a box of 8 when her husband and 2 kids had already eaten all the other swiss rolls. the husband's unreasonable response naturally outraged cnetizens. thus, one recent(?) douyin trend has been for women to ask their boyfriends/husbands the following, and then to record the answer: suppose that we get married and have two kids, and then obtain a box of swiss rolls, how should we split them?

anyways here are some of the provided responses from OP's post, put through the SVSSS filter (sorry OP):

[seungfl0wer]

*𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓞𝓻 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵?*

Pairing: Felix x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warning: Dom?Felix, Degrading, Choking, Hair Pulling, Hand Cuffs/Vibrator used, Face Fucking/Oral(M), Overstimulation(F), Slight smacking (Not in the face), Unprotected sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Finger sucking. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

A/N: ah I’m so happy to finally get this written. Uugh. I’ve had this idea since Halloween! I hope you enjoy it!

-🩵

Halloween was right around the corner and that meant costumes. You had asked your boyfriend if he wanted to do matching ones and of course he loved the idea. After brain storming you thought about doing a devil and angel outfit.

“Lixie how about devil and angel?” You asked him scrolling on your phone.

“Sounds good love.” He said smiling beside you.

“I gotta find a cute angel costume for you” you said.

“You’re not gonna be the angel?” He asked tilting his head a bit.

“Felix, you’re literally called an angel. Besides you’re too nice to be a devil” you said teasingly.

He hummed in response but his brain was swirling with other ideas.

The day went on as normal, felix still in his head about your comment. He wanted to show you how wrong you were. So he devised a plan.

“Love” he said sweetly.

You hummed in response.

“Come here” he said calling you to the bedroom.

When you entered he gestured you to sit. “What’s up lix?” You asked a bit confused.

“You know the light system red meaning stop, green is good, yellow slow down or a break?” He said with that same sweet tone.

You nodded wondering what he was getting at.

“Good” he said simply before pushing your body to the bed. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs from the drawer slipping them on your wrists. He attached them to the head posts without saying a word. When he moved to your side the look in his eyes was something you’ve never seen before. Especially from him. His eyes looked dark, jaw clenching as he stared down at you like you were prey.

His hand slipped under your chin holding your face in place. “I’ll show you how wrong you are Angel” he said with a wicked grin. He came around the bed pulling your pants and panties down. “Look at that, what a little slut we have here. Already soaked for me.” He said his hand coming down to slightly slap against your cunt. The action making your body jolt. It didn’t hurt, the slight pain making you even more turned on.

He let out a chuckle before grabbing something else from the stand beside the bed. He grabbed your small bullet turning it on before sticking it to your clit. The vibrations making you moan out bucking your hips for more. He let the bullet lay on your clit the feeling only slightly there now. His hands ran up your body playing with your breast before pinching at the sensitive nubs.

He moved the same hand back down your body before pushing his fingers into you slowly. God was he going so slow.

“Lix” you whined out.

“Hm?” He hummed.

“N-need more please” you cried out.

“More? How ungrateful. You’ll take what I give you” his voice deep. The way his eyes looked up at you said not to speak, so you kept your mouth shut.

He kept the same pace slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you. His thumb once in a while brushing the bullet making it feel stronger. “You’re dripping all over me, making such a mess” he said before pulling his hand from you. He brought his slick soaked fingers to you “you made the mess now clean it” he growled pushing his fingers into your mouth.

You happily sucked them off looking up at him with puppy eyes, trying to butter him up. Pulling his fingers for you with a pop the grin he had made a chill go up your spine. He dropped his pants quickly stroking his cock as he looked at you. “Open that dirty mouth of yours for me hmm? Gonna put it to some good use” he said before getting on top of you. His strong legs on either side of you as your back was against the headrest. He pressed his tip to your lips smacking against them slightly. “Open” he growled.

You did as you were told opening wide to take his long cock. He wasted no time before pushing in fully his cock hitting the back of your throat. He groaned out head falling backwards before he grabbed your head. He gripped your hair harshly as he fucked into your mouth relentlessly. “Fuck- that’s it- take my fucking cock- that’s what this dirty mouth of yours is good for” he growled.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes, the bullet still agonizingly slowly going. You felt almost embarrassed to say how hot everything was. The way he was talking to you, the way he was just using you as he pleased. Fuck it was to keep you on the edge of an orgasm.

Felix gripped your hair harshly once more pulling your head back only to push back into your mouth. His balls slapped against your face as you felt his release coming. You could feel his leg muscles tensing as he came. Making sure to push as far back as possible. “Don’t- you-“ he breathed heavily. “Waste a single drop”

When he pulled out he watched as you swallowed very drop. “Good girl” he said with a grin. He repositioned himself at your entrance, taking the bullet and turning it on high. He held it to your clit “color” he said looking up at you.

“G-green” you whimpered out. That’s all he needed before slamming into your dripping cunt. His hand let go of the bullet but how he was positioned it still was pressed against you. He was moving fast in and out of you, his cock head hitting your cervix.

His hand came down slapping against your breast before he pinched at your rosy nipples. “Still so fucking wet for me, such a good little slut you are. Ready for me to use at any moment.” He grunted. He repositioned himself once more putting you in a matting press. Legs pressed against your chest as he pounded into you. Your cunt clenched around him as your orgasms was close.

“Gonna cum aren’t you?” He said.

“Yes- please lix- can I cum?” You whined.

“Since you asked so nicely you may.” He grinned knowing you’d be even more sensitive after.

You came quickly after cumming hard around his cock. His hand laced around your neck squeezing it, breaking your chain of moans. He thrusted harshly into you before pulling out. He grinned down at you before pushing back in quickly. The sensation making your body arch. You wanted to grab ahold of him wanted to dig your nails into him until you remembered the cuffs.

“Gonna cum- fuck gonna fill this fat cunt up so you remember that I’m no angel love” he growled. Your body stuttered under him as another strong orgasms was about to crash over you. He pushed as deep as possible hitting your womb before dumping his load deep inside you. His hand came down toying with your clit knowing you were close. You came hard once more but he didn’t stop, he kept playing with your clit.

“To much- lix!” You cried. He didn’t stop though he kept going as your body came off the bed. You felt tears fall as he asked “color?”.

“Ah- lix- g-green” you whined.

“Guess it’s not too much then” he said with a grin.

He kept going kept toying with your overstimulated clit until he got what he wanted. Your body looked like it was from the exorcist as it came off the bed once more. One of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had washed over you. Your body felt like it was floating as you squirted all over the bed and him. You shook at the feeling silent cries leaving your lips.

He leaned down kissing you softly before quickly unlocking the cuffs. He wrapped you up in another blanket holding you tightly. You both breathed out coming down from the intenseness. “You alright?” He said softly against your skin.

“Great” you breathed out making you both chuckle.

“Shower?” He asked with a smile.

You nodded “please”.

When he got up taking your hand to help you up you laughed a bit “you should definitely be the devil only if I get to play with him some more” you said with a grin.

“Oh you will, especially now I know how much you like it” he said kissing your cheek.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[kissyrafe]

nye party blurb i forgot to post... whoops!

cw: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, teasing, spit play, unprotected p in v sex, alcohol consumption, i was watching euphoria and took inspo from nate 'n cassie in s2e1, (not proofread!!!)

you sat on the curb of a gas station, eating a donut as you self-wallowed on new year's eve, terrific. you stared at the ground, thinking of how the fuck you were going to get home when a pair of shoes appeared next to you. "'sup y/n," a deep male voice said, a familiar one. you look up at them with a frown as rafe nodded his head, handing you a beer. "need somethin' to wash that down?" you extend your hand, grabbing the bottle. one more drink wouldn't hurt. "hi, thanks." your voice is muffled by the food in your mouth as you take a sip from the bottle, swallowing the remnants of your snack. "what are you doin' tonight?" rafe asked casually, but you stare at him questioningly for a second/you could tell he wanted something. you and rafe cameron do not 'casually talk'. matter of fact, you don't even remember the last time he even looked at you. so for him to now be offering you beer and asking questions, this was weird. "i was s'posed to go to this party with my friend, but we got into this big fight." you let out a quiet sigh, your eyes wandering at the damp ground again. "so now i'm here." rafe studied you. he saw your drunk and forlorn behavior and he knew he couldn't just leave you here. he clenched his jaw, digging into the pocket of his pants and grabbing his keys. "why don't i give you a ride?"

the roaring music from outside the bathroom trumped your sweet moans as rafe's fingers lodged down your throat as he thrusts into you, saliva coating them up to his rough knuckles. your head thumped against the wooden door with every push of his hips. trying to get support, your hands find their way to his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. rafe kissed and licked every inch of your collarbone and next, fluttering subtle hickey's on you that you wouldn't notice until later. "what a slut," rafe whispered in your ear, taunting you. " y' can't help yourself, can you?" he took his fingers out, bringing them down to your clit. he pressed them down on your already soaking cunt, rubbing it in circles at a gruelingly slow pace. you threw your head back, unable to give a coherent response. "answer me." you nodded your head, your moans cutting off with every thrust rafe gave. "m-mhm!" he looked down, seeing you take all of his length as he smiled. he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look down at it too. "see how good you take me, baby? yeah, makes you feel good, doesn't it?" his sexual and playful banter took you over the edge as you felt the pleasure from both rafe's cock and fingers hit you. your hold on his shoulders tightened, your orgasm approaching soon. "g'na cum for me?" he asked, feeling his also coming. you bit your lip, trying to suppress your noises as you came. it hit so overwhelmingly hard as rafe pushed his cock into your cunt a few more times, his hips stuttering and releasing inside of you. rafe could feel your release and spit on his fingers as he looked at you, bringing his hand up again and putting them in his mouth.

"don't tell my sister about us."

[rose24207]

Just a Salesman

Summary: Your perfect world shatters when a furious stranger bursts into your home, accusing your loving, devoted husband of being a monster responsible for countless deaths.

Genre: angst

TW: swearing, mention of death

A/N: Posting sm today wow. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

You always believed in the goodness of people. Growing up in a small, close-knit town had shaped you that way.

You’d been the type to bake cookies for the elderly neighbor down the street, rescue stray animals, and donate whatever you could to people in need. When you met your husband, it felt like a gift from the universe.

He was everything you thought you’d never deserve: charismatic, attentive, and so gentle with you it made your heart ache. He would listen intently to your rambles about work, surprise you with your favorite pastries from the café downtown, and hold you close on cold nights when the world seemed too overwhelming.

You hadn’t known much about his work—“sales” was all he ever said—but it didn’t matter. He always came home to you, and that was enough. You admired how he seemed to understand people so easily, reading emotions and desires with an almost uncanny precision. He was your safe harbor, and you were his soft place to land.

But what made your marriage unique wasn’t just the way he made you feel; it was the way you balanced him. Where he was logical and composed, you were emotional and empathetic. If he brushed off a stranger’s plight with practicality, you’d step in with a warm smile and offer help. He often teased you about your boundless kindness, calling you “his little bleeding heart,” but his tone was always fond.

“You’re too good for this world,” he’d whisper sometimes, brushing your hair behind your ear. You’d laugh, kissing his cheek.

“And you’re my world,” you’d reply, never missing the way his gaze softened.

You were blissfully unaware that the man you loved and trusted so completely was hiding a shadowy part of himself, one that was entirely at odds with the person you knew.

It was a chilly winter evening when your life began to unravel. You’d just finished preparing dinner, humming to yourself as you set the table for two, the flicker of candlelight adding warmth to the cozy living room.

Your husband had called earlier, saying he’d be late, but you didn’t mind waiting.

The knock at the door came suddenly, jolting you out of your thoughts. Expecting it to be a neighbor or a delivery, you opened it with your usual bright smile, only to find a man standing there, his face lined with rage and exhaustion.

“Can I help you?” you asked kindly, though his expression unnerved you.

“You already have,” he muttered darkly, stepping inside uninvited. “Where is he?”

“I’m sorry—who are you talking about?” you stammered, retreating a step.

“Your husband,” he spat, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. “Where is that bastard hiding?”

“I think you’ve made a mistake,” you said gently, though your hands were shaking. “My husband hasn’t hurt anyone. He’s just a salesman.”

“A salesman,” the man repeated with a bitter laugh. He fished a small card from his pocket and slammed it onto the table. You glanced at it, confused by the cryptic design.

“He gave me this,” the man continued. “And because of him, I had to watch people die. Because of him, my friends are dead! You’re married to a killer!”

The words pierced through you like shards of ice. “That’s impossible,” you whispered. “My husband would never—”

“Open your eyes, lady!” he shouted, making you flinch. “Do you even know who you’re married to?”

Before you could respond, the door creaked open again. Your husband stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto the stranger.

“Gi-hun,” he said calmly, closing the door behind him. “It’s been a while.”

Your heart sank as you turned to your husband, his usual warmth replaced with a cold, calculating smile you’d never seen before.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Go to the bedroom,” he said softly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your blood run cold.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “Not until you tell me what this is about. Why is he saying these things?”

The room was tense, the air thick with unspoken truths. Gi-hun’s fury burned hotter as he stepped closer.

“She doesn’t even know, does she?” he sneered. “You’ve been lying to her this whole time.”

Your husband’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t her concern.”

“She’s your wife! She deserves to know the kind of monster she’s married to!”

“Enough,” your husband snapped, his voice firm but not raised. He turned to you, his expression softening just slightly. “Go upstairs, sweetheart. Please.”

You stood frozen, torn between obeying the man you loved and demanding answers. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision as the image of your perfect life began to crumble around you.

Thank you for reading!

[karawatermelon]

The irony of my just being asked about this. I'm gonna post my response, because I fully believe in this. I'm my own person with scars, but after living on this earth for over 30 years, being married, being divorced, dating again? I've got at least one piece of wisdom worth sharing.

The question was along the lines of "when do you say I love you?":

When you're willing to commit to *doing* love instead of just feeling it. The feeling comes and goes. Wait for it to go and see if this person is still someone you want to devote time, energy, and access to. If the answer is yes, that to me says Love. You love them with little to no conditions because your love is something you do, not just something you feel.

Had a friend in middle school going through a breakup ask me "why do people say they'll love you forever if they don't mean it?" and I said something like "I think people mean it when they say it, but then people change" but all I was thinking was "girl we're in 8th grade"

[madlyney]

Your best friend, Yuta Okkotsu

Best friend!Yuta, who buys you gifts like pendants, bracelets, and plushies, saying, “It reminded me of you!” 

Best friend!Yuta, whose hugs with you last a little longer than they should — not that you really mind, though. You wish that you could just stay in his embrace forever. 

Best friend!Yuta, who gets worried when he doesn't see you around campus. He immediately texts you, but only gets more anxious when you don't answer. Maki tells him you were in your dorm, as you have unexpectedly caught a cold. Toge believes that Yuta’s worry scale might have gone through the roof when he sees the latter running to your dorm at full speed. 

Best friend!Yuta nurses you back to health whenever you're sick or injured from missions, saying you're his responsibility no matter what (and that he would hate to see you suffer).

Best friend!Yuta, who realised how his heart seemed to beat faster whenever he was with you, or how his stomach would feel all funny, but not in a bad way. Or how he keeps recalling your smile and the sound of your laughter, which unconsciously also brings a smile to his lips. 

Best friend!Yuta, who rants all of his newly discovered feelings for you to Toge and Panda. The two eventually get tired of his endless ramblings and Panda tells him, “Just tell her,” to which Toge replies with “Salmon”. 

Best friend!Yuta, when he finally confesses to you, asks you, “may I please be your boyfriend?” (instead of the usual ‘will you be my girlfriend’ question.)

Best friendBoyfriend!Yuta, who can’t stop getting enough of you and keeps wondering how he’s managed to be with you. The poor boy sometimes wonders whether he’s good enough for you, to which you reassure him with lots of hugs and kisses, saying that yes, he’s more than good enough for you.

Boyfriend!Yuta, who just falls in love with you even more every single day.

Note: happy new year !! Sorry for not posting lately😔 I’ve had a lot on my plate, but I’ll go back to writing, woohoo! This is one of my fave works so far, enjoy !!<3

[punkitt-is-here]

regardless of what your intentions were, your choice of words has invited consequences. you can choose to accept responsibility for how your words have affected others, or you can continue to insist that every trans woman who takes issue with your post is a delusional tar-pit. who will you choose to be?

The later, duh. Thanks for the ask anarcho-taoism.

[ask-jax-things]

”just going to inform you, your wish was overwritten by @askyourauntierosie”

NOOOO—

I CALL TO THEE ALMIGHTY MOE

[goaskangel]

helping an overworked john price !

you knew how busy john price could get at the base, especially if he’s stuck in his office with a crippling stacks of paperwork. so you took it as your responsibility, even as the captain’s girlfriend, to let him finish his work up with any distractions or interruptions, and god knows that man can get worked up. like a puppy, you’d stand outside his door, guarding it. maybe leaving your post for a quick coffee run to the lunch room and returning it back inside to his desk, you give each other a quick smile or nod. later you’d walk around the camp, accepting any errand from team members just to keep yourself occupied. 

the next time you gently close his door from the inside and ask him if he’d like another cup. 

“no, that’s alright.” his voice so deep that he clears his throat, most likely from the long period of muteness. you walk towards him and grin when you make contact with him, he sits up in his seat just a little, signaling for a peck. you kiss him and feel him get up casually. 

“don’t go jus’ yet, love.” 

you nod, even when he’s walking away to a file cabinet, his strong back facing you. you hop onto the empty space of his desk and kick your feet gently. john’s hands are warm when he cups your cheeks. you blush at the impact and feel his words go straight to your core, “miss lookin’ at this pretty face. been so busy, i ain’t have the time to see ya.” you giggle and paw at his chest when his beard scratches your face as he kisses you for longer. 

“needa break, birdie.” he mumbles between his kisses, he starts to toy with the various straps of your bra and tank top. you lean back according to his sudden eagerness, supporting yourself whilst his bigger body stands between your dangling legs. as if he’s inhaling you, he only stops smothering you with his love when you pull away for some air. “want it, john.” you find yourself almost moaning out when his large hands come to grasp your thighs, keeping your legs spread at his waist. 

“bad girl. tryna get a working man to submit to your neediness. mm, you’re lucky i’m willing.” he places a kiss on your shoulder before digging his fingers to the band of your shorts. he’s dragged your lower half to complete nudity while he tosses his shirt to his chair. the heat in the entire base almost unbearable, but you thank it for the sight of seeing john’s unshorn body glistening. his strong muscled arms much sexier unconfined to even a compression top. your bare cunt throbbing at the sight. 

“baby,” you call as he unbuckles his tight belt, “i didn’t lock the door.”

“ah, yes. but ‘ts all apart the thrill, love.” unzipping his loose jeans, “bet ya won’t remember the lock very well after i’m done with you.” you wanna slap the smirk off his mouth but your fingers dig into the wood desk when he slips his leaking tip against your sex. gathering that wetness, he smears it against his stiff length. john holds your legs against and prods at your very welcoming body before slipping in, slowly. 

“sh sh, gonna need ya to focus on not makin’ a peep, ‘kay love?” you would’ve stayed quiet regardless if his sweet honeyed voice had told you so, but god was it hard to. 

his large, uncut cock seems to force its path into your tight heat. you felt full even at halfway. the stretch burning exactly how you needed it, you don’t mind if the bite you have on your lip starts to bleed. 

he damn near growls through his barred teeth, “fuckin’ hell…” he holds his grip on your chubby thighs and bottoms out inside you. he wastes no time, quickening his pace, leaving your sweet pussy halfway just to return all the way back inside. you nod at the impact and start to shift and move your hips down to meet him. the deep, quiet groans and moans he lets out make you clench impossibly. 

after a good set of thrusts, he pulls out, letting your leg go to squeeze at the base of his cock. a thick amount of pre pours from your stretched cunt along with your own arousal, you gawk at the mess as you continue to leak down onto the floor, your shaking leg writhing at price’s side for his support. “what a sight, huh?” his very much hearted pupils watch the scene unfold upon him. he grabs your leg and shoves his way back inside of you, you hum at the needed fill. 

his voice is just above a whisper, “gonna be good for me and let me fill ‘er up?” it’s insane how quickly you nod. 

“yeah…pump this pretty cunt, mhm.” he takes a couple of good strokes before pressing flushed against your lower thighs, releasing his love out in you. you’d thank him immediately if your own orgasm didn’t crash down onto you, letting a pained, loud whine. but he can’t just stop there, he pulls his half-hard on out and teases your sensitive body. pushing his load by the tip back into you. cooing at how well you stay pliable and open for him. “so good…yep…my perfect girl, yes you are…” how couldn’t he love you, you just take such good care of him!

[intomepang]

you look so good in my clothes

summary: boyfriend!patrick taking care of you after a party warning: bit of sexually suggestive content note: hope you’re all having a great start of the year!! this has been sitting in my drafts and idk if i like it but i decided to post it anyway. (barely proofread!)

“patrick,” you slurred. it’s already past midnight as patrick half-carried you into your apartment, his arm around your waist as you heavily leaned against him. you were now giggling uncontrollably, the complete opposite of the grumpy mood you had been in earlier when he had to drag you out of the party. 

you halted, tugging weakly on his shirt as he tried to guide you through your apartment. "wait, stop," you said, your giggles fading into an exaggeratedly serious expression. patrick looked down at you with a raised eyebrow. "what is it?" he asked.

“pat, i think you’re sooooo sexy when you play tennis.” a sweet grin spread across your face as you glanced up at him. “especially when you’re, like, into it,” you slurred, the words tumbling. “the way you—ugh, when you’re all serious and sweaty and it just…” you trailed off, burying your face in his shirt trying to relive the image in your head. “it kinda… no it really turns me on.” you admit, voice muffled. 

patrick shook his head, unable to hide the smirk creeping across his face. the way your words tumbled out, he found you irresistibly cute in moments like this.

you pulled away, looking up at him. “honestly... i think i’d let you fu–mmmph!” your words are cut short as patrick gently pressed his finger to your lips. “alright, that’s enough, baby.” he chuckled and took his finger off your lips to tap your nose, making you pout in response. you end up mumbling what you were trying to say, something about his racket, but he brushes it off.

“the things that come out of your mouth when you’re drunk…” he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with amusement as he guided you to the living room, careful not to let you stumble into the furniture. 

he tells you to sit still on the sofa and disappears into the kitchen. he returns with a glass of water, handing it to you “drink up before we get to bed.” you take a sip.

without another word he leads you to the room. the second the both of you enter, you wasted no time and collapsed onto the bed with a yawn, stretching your arms out. patrick stood by the end of the bed, arms folded across his chest, feeling a mixture of warmth and affection as he watched you.

"don’t sleep on me yet," he said. "i still gotta change you into something comfier.” 

patrick crouched down to take off your shoes first, with gentle movements to avoid shaking you too much. he straightened himself back up and glanced at your closet. he could've easily grabbed one of your oversized tees or pajamas, threw it on, and call it a night. instead, he turned toward the corner of the room where his overnight bag rested. it didn’t take long for him to find one of his favorite t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. 

"here," patrick murmured as he approached the bed with his clothes in hand, a little grin tugging at his lips. "let’s put these on, you'll be more comfortable." 

patrick pulled you to your feet and helped you out of your dress, his hands moving carefully as you giggled in a hazy bliss. he slid his boxers on you with the waistband resting snugly on your hips, and then pulled on his t-shirt, the fabric soft against your skin. as he tugged the shirt down, he took a moment to admire how you looked.

"you look so good in my clothes." patrick whispered, caressing his hand along your waist. he really wanted to have you right now.

"patrick," you whined with your cheeks flushed from more than just the alcohol. you quickly climbed into your bed and snuggled yourself into the blanket. "hurry up and change. i’m cold. get in bed with me already."

"alright, alright, bossy.” he chuckled, as he stepped away for a moment to change. he comes back and joins you under the covers, the bed dipping slightly with his weight. you immediately curled into his warmth, burying your face against his chest. he wrapped his arms around you securely, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your head. 

[woozinhos]

hii!! can i request playgirl!reader or like fuckgirl!reader and nerdy or softsub!wonwoo??

Glasses boy

Note: this is a huge thank you for waiting for me to post I hope you guys enjoy this sorry fic <3

Wonwoo is sitting in a chair, his glasses slightly askew as he looks up at you with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He's always been a bit shy and nerdy, and the sight of you towering over him in such a dominant position makes him feel both intimidated and turned on.

"Are you going to be good for me, baby?" you ask, your voice low and sultry.

Wonwoo nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

"Y-yes," he stammers, his eyes darting between your face and your body. "I'll be good. I promise."

You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands as you tilt his head back.

"Good boy," you murmur, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "I expect nothing less from my little nerd."

Wonwoo shivers at your words, a low whine escaping his lips as you continue to play with his hair. He's completely at your mercy, his body tense with anticipation as he waits for your next move.

You move your hand down to his lap, gently pulling his cock out of his pants. He lets out a shaky breath as you do so, his hips instinctively jerking forward in response to your touch. You wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow, teasing stroke.

Wonwoo moans softly, his eyes fluttering shut as he relishes the feeling of your touch. You continue to stroke him, your movements slow and deliberate. Wonwoo's breaths become more ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to control himself.

"Please," he gasps, his voice strained. "Please, more."

You smirk, enjoying the sight of him coming undone under your touch.

"Patience, baby," you purr, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive head of his cock. "You have to be patient if you want to please me."

Wonwoo whimpers, his hips bucking up against your hand.

"I'm trying," he pants, his fingers digging into the arms of the chair. "But it's so hard when you touch me like that."

As you continue to tease him, his glasses slide further down his nose, obscuring his vision slightly. He tries to push them back up, but you stop him with a firm hand on his wrist.

"Leave them," you command, your voice leaving no room for argument.

Wonwoo's smile is both sheepish and excited, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of submission and desire.

He loves the way you take control, the way you make him feel small and powerless. It's a thrilling contrast to his usual nerdy demeanor, and it only makes him want you more. The thought crosses Wonwoo's mind, a hint of jealousy and insecurity creeping into his expression. He knows that you have a reputation as a "fuck girl," and the thought of you being with other guys before him makes him feel possessive and insecure.

Wonwoo's thoughts are abruptly cut off as you take him into your mouth, his head falling back against the chair with a loud moan. His fingers tangle in your hair, holding on tightly as you work your magic on him. He can't help but let out a stream of curses and praises as you take him deeper, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, his voice thick with pleasure. "Your mouth feels so good, baby."

You hum in response, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. He's completely at your mercy, completely lost in the pleasure you're giving him.

"Please, don't stop," he begs, his grip on your hair tightening as he tries to hold back his impending orgasm.

You increase your pace, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock as you work him closer and closer to the edge. Wonwoo is practically trembling now, his body tense and coiled like a spring.

"I'm gonna cum," he gasps, his voice strained. "Oh god, I'm so close."

You look up at him, a sly smile playing on your lips as you continue to pleasure him.

Seeing him so submissive and desperate only makes you want to tease him more, to push him to the limit and see how far he'll go for you. Wonwoo's face is flushed and sweaty, his eyes glazed over with lust and pleasure. He's completely under your spell, completely enraptured by the way you're taking control of him.

"Please, let me cum," he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need it so bad."

You slow down, your movements deliberately teasing as you draw out his pleasure. Wonwoo whines in protest, his body writhing in frustration as you deny him his release.

"No, please," he begs, his hips bucking up desperately. "I can't take it anymore."

You pull away from him, your lips leaving his cock with a slick pop. You look up at him with a smirk, your eyes glinting mischievously.

"If you want to cum, you'll have to do something for me first," you say, your voice low and sultry.

Wonwoo's eyes widen, his chest heaving as he looks at you with a mixture of desire and curiosity.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks, his voice hoarse with need.

You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper your request.

"I want you to fuck me," you murmur, your breath hot against his skin. "Right here, right now. And if you do a good job, I'll let you cum."

Wonwoo's eyes darken with lust at your words, his body trembling with anticipation. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he nods his head in agreement.

"Yes," he says, his voice thick with desire. "Anything you want, I'll do it."

You bend over your desk, presenting yourself to Wonwoo in a position of submission and invitation.

He lets out a strangled groan at the sight, his hands immediately reaching out to touch you. Wonwoo stumbles out of his clothes, his eagerness making him clumsy. He's a flurry of movement, his hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as he tries to get undressed as quickly as possible.

Finally, he's naked, his clothes scattered haphazardly on the floor. He steps up behind you, his hands immediately gripping your hips as he positions himself against you. Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath, his cock pressing against your entrance as he struggles to maintain control.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "How many times I've imagined you like this."

He slides into you with a low moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"You feel so good," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips as he tries to control himself. "So tight and perfect around me."

Wonwoo's thrusts are frantic and uncontrolled, his glasses sliding further down his nose with each movement.

Sweat drips down his face, his hair sticking to his forehead as he pours all of his energy into pleasuring you. He's completely lost in the moment, his world narrowing down to the feeling of your body around him. He can't think straight, can't form coherent sentences as he chases his release.

"So close," he grits out, his voice ragged and desperate. "I'm gonna cum so hard for you."

You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you let out a moan of pleasure.

"You're doing so good, baby," you praise him, your voice breathless. "You feel amazing inside me."

Wonwoo's whimpers turn into a series of moans as he picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with each thrust. His movements become more erratic, his body shaking with the force of his desire.

"I'm gonna cum," he gasps out, his voice barely more than a strangled whisper. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum so hard for you."

His hands grip your hips tighter, holding you in place as he loses control completely. He lets out a guttural cry as he reaches his peak, his body shuddering violently as he spills inside you. His fingers dig into your skin, his face buried in your shoulder as he rides out the waves of pleasure.

For a moment, he's completely still, his body trembling as he tries to catch his breath. Then, slowly, he pulls out of you, his hands releasing their grip on your hips. He leans against you, his chest heaving as he tries to come down from the high of his orgasm.

"That was... wow," he pants, his voice still breathless.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he presses soft kisses to your shoulder and neck.

[qiu-yan]

context (from here):

apparently, recently(?) on douyin, a housewife posted about her husband's unhinged reaction after she ate the last 2 swiss rolls out of a box of 8 when her husband and 2 kids had already eaten all the other swiss rolls. the husband's unreasonable response naturally outraged cnetizens. thus, one recent(?) douyin trend has been for women to ask their boyfriends/husbands the following, and then to record the answer: suppose that we get married and have two kids, and then obtain a box of swiss rolls, how should we split them?

anyways here are some of the provided responses from OP's post, put through the TGCF filter (sorry OP). impressions are gathered mainly from the fandom since i have yet to finish TGCF, so i apologize for any inaccuracies: