#something possessed me for 4 hours

[washingtonwhitemarkiplier]

REARRANGE THEIR WIRES!!!

(+alt and another doodle)

[crystallizsch]

the idea of being soulmates~

[ part 2 EVENTUALLY.... ]

[yogirl-willow]

The Crimson Pact | Part 3

Characterizations | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

SoulBond!AU

Pairings: Yandere!Saja Boys x F!Reader

Synopsis: You were never supposed to remember them.

Four hundred years ago, a pact was made—a blood-soaked bond tying five demons to one human soul: yours.

They’ve waited lifetimes for your reincarnation, cursed with obsession, tethered by fate.

And now that you’ve returned?

They’ll burn the world before they let you go again.

Warnings: Soul bond with the Saja Boys, Yandere themes!, obsessive behavior / possessiveness, romantic psychological tension, mentions of implied past death / reincarnation, intense emotional fixation, yearning, dark romance, comfort and control, hurt/comfort (if you squint)

A/N: Reading all your comments and reblogs always makes me smile! This part is a bit longer than the rest. I wanted to focus on building her trust and relationship with the boys, so there will be much more interactions and intimacy than the previous parts. I hope you all enjoy!

───────── ༺🜃༻ ─────────

The Saja boys are all demons.

They are wrath and ruin. Jealousy and death.

And yet, before her, they kneel.

Because she is the Heart. Because her soul is what keeps them from unraveling into true monsters. Because they were bound by her love and her curse.

They don’t just crave her—they depend on her. Without her presence, their minds deteriorate. Their bodies decay. Their hunger becomes unbearable.

Only Y/N’s touch tames the demon inside.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Part 3:

If You Stay

You don’t remember falling asleep. But you remember waking up.

The guest room is dim, wrapped in soft shadows, the silk sheets pulled up to your chin. The faint scent of rain and cedar lingers in the air—Jinu, you think distantly. It clings to your skin like a memory. One you shouldn’t have.

You must’ve fallen asleep after your talk with the boys in the afternoon. You’d admit, that did take a toll on you, and you were still feeling quite unwell from yesterday’s events. Hangovers don't just go away in a few hours. One of the boys must’ve carried you in here.

You sit up slowly. Your headache from earlier is gone. But something inside still hums. A weight behind your ribs. A tugging sensation that pulses faintly… toward them.

You still had too many questions you needed answers to. They said they were demons, so why are they here? They didn’t look like demons. They were sinfully beautiful, so you assume that definitely plays a part in it. Why did they sell their souls to Gwi Ma? Who was this Gwi Ma? Who were you to each of them in your past life? Just how many past lives have you had exactly? 

And most importantly, if they were demons hundreds of years old, why in the flying fuck are they in a K-pop idol group?

There’s a knock at the door, ceasing your thoughts. You freeze. But it doesn’t open.

“Y/N?” It’s Romance’s voice, low and careful. “Dinner’s ready. If you’re hungry.”

You don’t answer right away.

Not because you don’t want to. But because you’re afraid of what it means that you do. Still—you follow the sound.

The dining room is too elegant for six people. The table could seat twelve, But only one side is set—six seats arranged close together. The lighting is warm, soft. As if they’d planned for comfort. For your nerves.

The boys are already seated. But they all rise the moment they see you. Romance is the first to move, pulling out your chair with a slow, exaggerated flourish. “Right here, angel.”

You meet his eyes and you feel the pull again. He’s looking at you with the most tender expression. Like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him. 

And you were.

Plates are filled before you can ask. Abby gently sets a bowl of soup in front of you—your favorite kind. You don’t remember telling them that. You’re not even sure you remember liking it until the smell hits you. Baby places a glass of water before you and you suck in a nervous breath as you feel a light kiss on the crown of your head. 

You’d never been treated like this before. Cherished. Not even by your own family. It was so foreign, you doubted it could be real. 

But as you gazed at each and every one of them, you could see it in their faces. The quiet relief. The tenderness. Their want to do these things for you. It was a feeling you had to get used to.

You didn’t touch the food right away. You just stared down at the dark wooden table, the linen napkin folded too neatly on your lap, and the spoon resting next to a bowl that smelled like home. If home had five soul-bound demons who watched you breathe.

Jinu watches carefully from across the table. He hasn’t touched his food.

“Eat,” he says quietly. “You’ll need your strength.”

You hesitate.

Romance spoke next. “If you’re waiting for poison, don’t worry. We only do that to each other.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. It was too much. All of it. You took a small sip. And then another. And the warmth spread to places in you that hadn’t been warm in months. You sighed, strangely feeling so much more at ease.

Romance leans closer. His voice is honey and hooks. “You’re still not feeling well during the day, right?”

You nod. Slowly. 

“That’s the bond,” Jinu says. “It’s active. But unstable.”

“The further you are from us,” Abby adds, “the worse it’ll get.”

“I’ve been alone for years,” you mutter, fingers tightening around your spoon. “I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Baby says from the end of the table. Quiet. Sharp. “You won’t.” You flinch at his tone. But it doesn’t feel cruel—just true.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Romance sets his fork down and places his chin in his palm, eyes glittering in the candlelight. “You’re not a prisoner, you know.”

Your brow furrows.

He smiles. “We’re not keeping you here. But…we did have this place built for you.”

Your eyes snapped to him. "What do you mean you had it built for me?"

Romance’s smile was soft. Too soft. "Darling, this whole place was bought and designed for you. For when we found you. We just live in it."

You blink.

Had they been waiting for you that long? You hadn’t really thought about it before. The logistics of their story hadn’t fully registered. 

“You’d have your own space,” Jinu says softly, ever the diplomat. “A guest room. With a lock, if that makes you feel safer.”

Abby immediately frowns. “Why can’t she just stay in her room-room?” he grumbles, arms crossed. “It’s closer to mine.”

Your brows knit together. “Wait. My room?”

Romance’s smile is slow and feline, like he’s been waiting for that moment. “Of course. We had it ready since… well. A while.”

You blink. That didn’t answer your question.

Jinu doesn’t flinch. “Because that room doesn’t have a lock.”

Abby scowls, muttering something under his breath. Romance hums beside you. “Wouldn’t want one anyway.”

You whirl on him. “What was that?”

He holds up both hands in mock surrender, grinning like the devil. “Just saying. But okay, okay—guest room with a lock. For now.”

There’s a silence. Then Mystery murmurs almost too quietly: “…We’d break it if we had to.”

Your stomach twists. They’re joking. You hope they’re joking.

“You wouldn’t be alone,” Mystery pipes again. He’s seated closest to you, his plate untouched. His eyes never leave your hands. He wanted to grasp them. Feel your warmth. Feel your hands massage his hair just as you used to in your past life. He swallowed.

You press your lips together. It’s not that you don’t believe them. It’s that you do. And that terrifies you.

Romance watches the doubt dance across your face. He leans forward, just enough that you’re forced to look at him.

“You don’t have to say yes forever,” he says, voice low and intimate. “Just… stay. For now. Let your body heal. Let the bond stabilize. You don’t even have to talk to us. We’ll keep our distance if that’s what you want.”

At least that’s what she’ll think. Romance thinks to himself. With these guys? Yeah right.

You don’t speak. His voice softens. “You’ve been carrying this alone for so long, haven’t you? You’re getting sick. Dizzy. Faint.”

Your throat tightens.

“You’re tired. You’re having headaches. And we’re the only ones who can ease it. You feel that. So why are you still punishing yourself?”

You try to deny it. To push the tears back. But his words hit something raw. And real.

“I’m not trying to punish myself,” you whisper. “I just… I didn’t ask for this.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll let you suffer for it.”

"You’ll be safe," Abby added gruffly. "No one touches you here. No one even gets close."

The silence that follows is thick. Your breathing is shallow. Their words registering. Was it really so bad? Letting them care for you? Being here with them. Having them treat you like you’ve never been treated before? 

Why were you still fighting it? There was so much you didn’t know, but as of this moment, you did know one thing. That they loved you in your past life. And love you still. Did that count? They yearn for you, and have been for lifetimes. And you knew deep in your heart you were starting to feel the same. Was that really so bad? 

To let them in? 

They were strangers, but they weren’t. They claim to be yours, so why do you keep questioning it? 

Then, slowly—almost in spite of yourself—you nod. “Just… a little while,” you say. “Until I feel better.”

You don’t see the look they share. The way Jinu’s shoulders finally lower. The flicker of possessive triumph behind Romance’s lashes. Or the way Mystery exhales like he’s been holding his breath since the moment you left him last.

You don’t see any of it. But you feel it. The shift. The settling. Something ancient and invisible clicks into place behind your ribs. And you don’t fight it anymore.

The bond sighs.

They insist on collecting your things that night. “We’ll go,” Abby says immediately. “You stay. Rest.”

“No, I—” You start, but Jinu raises a hand. “You’re still weak. If the bond flares while you’re alone, it could be dangerous. Let us.”

You glance between them—five men who could tear the world apart for you—and for once, it feels less like a threat and more like a promise.

“…Okay,” you say quietly. “Just—don’t touch my underwear drawer.”

Romance smirks. “No promises.”

“Romance,” Jinu snaps.

Mystery growls.

You sigh. I guess you did need underwear. “Fine. Just… don’t be creepy.”

Abby winks. “We’ll be fast. Promise.”

As they move, as doors open and shoes slip on, you stay behind with Baby, the silent protector watching your every move. But for some reason, it doesn’t scare you now. 

He approaches you, eyes intense and never as wary as the others. Like he’d never be sorry for having you and taking what’s rightfully his. He was silent, but intentional. 

He walks you to your room and you shiver as you feel his large hand on your lower back. He holds the door open for you before briefly muttering a faint “Goodnight, sweetheart” and closing the door shut. And for the first time in weeks… You don’t feel sick.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You sit on the same dining table for breakfast. Jinu had made you some toast sandwiches. The boys looked chirpy. Looks like someone’s in a good mood…

It was still so surreal to them how you were here- having breakfast with them. The very thought of this domestic life with you, caring for you, providing for you like partners almost made them purr in ecstasy. 

You were still in Jinu’s hoodie despite all your clothes laying in messy duffle bags, sleeves swallowing your hands, hair slightly damp from a quick shower. It took much restraint from Jinu to not pull you in his arms the moment you walked out of your room.

His hoodie looked right on you. Like it had always belonged there—like you had always belonged there. You didn’t realize it, but every thread of that oversized fabric clung to you like a memory, like a claim. It smelled like him, and that alone made something feral claw beneath his skin.

His jaw tightened as you crossed the room, bare legs brushing against soft fabric. You moved so carelessly, so trusting, not realizing you were walking a tightrope over a thousand years of obsession. Of agony. Of aching need.

You didn’t know he used to dream about this. That centuries ago, he’d wake from nightmares of you slipping through his fingers only to whisper your name into the night. He had waited lifetimes to see you like this again.

And now? Now, you were right there—wrapped in his scent, in his clothes, in his world—but still unsure if you belonged.

He smiled softly as you reached for a mug, but his hands twitched at his sides. He wanted to cage you to his chest, press his lips to your neck, and whisper, “This time, I’ll never let you die.”

He would never let you go again.

They were all quiet around you, letting you eat in peace. It should’ve been normal. It wasn’t.

"Are you going to work today?" Mystery asked, tilting his head.

"...Yes?"

"We don’t think you should go," Jinu said plainly.

You nearly choked on your toast. Say what now? "I have bills."

"You could quit," Romance offered. "Stay here. Rest. Sketch. Paint. Sleep."

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Sure, the offer sounded nice—dreamy, even. But it was the kind of nice that belonged in fairytales. People didn’t just quit their jobs and live off vibes and good intentions. In this economy?

You waited for the punchline… but it never came. They were all staring at you—completely serious. Like quitting your job was the obvious solution. Like it was the answer to every problem you’d ever had.

"What would I even do? Just exist as your little house pet?"

Mystery looked hopeful. Abby smiled. You sighed. "No way. I’m not freeloading."

"You could be our assistant," Abby grinned. "Take notes. Carry snacks. Pet Mystery when he gets upset."

"Not happening."

They let it go.

But Romance’s eyes gleamed. Like he was already planning a way to make it so. 

After breakfast, you went to your room to change into your work clothes. Stepping out and closing the door firmly, you make your way to the kitchen where Jinu hands you another toast claiming you needed another ‘energy boost’ for the day. You take it in thanks and drown out his last ditch effort to convince you to quit, waving him off with a cute smile that shut him up. You make your way to the entrance and stop in your tracks. Abby, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself for 8:30 in the morning. His sweatshirt hung loose over his frame, hood drawn up, but there was no hiding that build. Or that face. Or the smirk that crept up the moment he saw you in your work clothes.

"Hello there, sweetheart," he drawled.

You froze, mid-bite, a piece of toast tragically dangling from your mouth. "...If this is another attempt to get me to quit my job, you can turn right back around."

Abby grinned like the smug menace he was. “Sadly, no. I’ve accepted your tragic refusal of our generous sugar-demon lifestyle.”

He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his hoodie pocket like this was totally normal. “So instead, I’ll be escorting my darling little starshine to work today.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry—your what now?”

“My darling. Little. Starshine,” he repeated, grinning wider with each word.

You deadpan, a blush of pink rising to your cheeks. “Try that again and I’ll call HR.”

He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m walking you to work. Orders from the Bond Gods. Or Jinu. Same thing, really.”

“You all really expect me to be escorted to work?”

“Yes,” he says simply. “You’re still weak. The bond’s healing you, but slowly. We won’t let you go alone again. Not when you’re like this.”

You hesitate. He steps closer, but not too close. “Let us keep you safe. Just for today.”

“…Fine,” you mutter.

“And tomorrow…”

“Really?”

“And the day after that…”

“Okay, I get it. Fine. But you have to hide.”

He blinks. “Hide?”

“I’m not walking next to Abby from the Saja boys. I’ll be the talk of the entire district. They’ll probably think I’m kidnapped.”

He snorts. “Technically…”

“Abby.”

“Fine, fine.” He pulls his hood lower. “But I draw the line at hiding my abs.”

You roll your eyes. “Just… be normal. Please.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Even in a hoodie and mask, he doesn’t look normal. He looks like a movie star trying not to be recognized—and failing. Your coworkers notice him immediately.

“Y/N…” one of the baristas whispers as you clock in. “Who. Is. That.” 

You pretend not to hear.

Another coworker giggles. “Is he your boyfriend? Oh my god, did you meet him at the club?”

“No!” you say too quickly.

“But he didn’t come inside with us… where did you meet him then?”

You force a laugh. “He’s just a friend. He’s helping me out since I’ve been sick.” 

They seem to buy it—until someone brings up the guy from the other night.

“Hey, what happened to Jae? He said he’d walk you home, but we never heard from him. Did he ghost or something?”

You freeze.

“I, um… ran into someone else before he could. Didn’t see him after that.”

You stare hard at the pastry tray, pretending to adjust the layout. But inside, your stomach twists. What did happen to him?

You’d ask the boys later. …If you wanted the truth. Though, you’re not quite sure if you really do. 

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Your shift drags on longer than usual. Not because of work.

Because of him.

Baby sits at the back corner, hoodie pulled low, sipping a black coffee he hasn’t touched in twenty minutes. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just watches. Your coworkers whisper, asking if he was an idol or something because he looked too handsome to be just a normal customer. You cringed at that.

It hasn’t really registered until now just how insane it was, really. You were now co-living with one of the rising pop-groups in the country. You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. 

You try to focus. But you can feel his eyes. Not just looking—possessing. Guarding. Burning. Everytime you talked to a customer (particularly male) you could feel his eyes harden, glaring holes into whoever it was that talked to you. 

One of them tapped you on the shoulder to get your attention, asking with an “excuse me” if he could get some hot sauce with his order. Baby nearly jumped out of his seat if it weren’t for your warning glare. 

You approach the brooding demon, flipping open your notepad. “You’re not subtle, you know.”

He doesn’t smile. “They shouldn’t look at you.”

Your heart thumps. “It’s a customer’s job to look…and order…and ask...”

“They shouldn’t talk, either. Nor should they ever touch.”

You try not to smile. “You’re terrifying.”

His eyes flick up. Dark. Hungry. “Good.”

You bring him a refill anyway. “Behave.”

He doesn’t.

He waits outside when your shift ends, hands in pockets. Doesn’t say a word as you fall into step beside him. The air between you buzzes. You glance over. “Why do you look like someone kicked your favorite pet?”

He doesn’t answer. You poke him in the side. “Baby.”

His jaw flexes. Fighting his control to pull you in closer as people walked by. “I don’t like them talking to you.”

You sigh. “We’ve been over this. It’s my job.”

“You don’t need it.”

“I do.”

“You have us.”

“That’s not a job.”

“You could quit. Let us take care of you.”

“No.”

He frowns, lips twitching down.

“You’re pouting.”

He looks at you, expression unreadable. You reach out, amused, and gently press his cheek. Something shifts. He grabs your hand—fast but gentle—and kisses your knuckles. 

The world slows.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “Even if you don’t remember. Even if you never say it.” His eyes hold you in place. Burning. Certain. There’s no hesitation in his voice. No tremble. Just absolute conviction—like he wasn’t stating a hope, but a law of the universe. 

Baby steps closer, the streetlights casting silver on his sharp features. His gaze drops to your lips like he’s already imagining how they’d feel crushed beneath his.

“You don’t have to love me back yet,” he says, voice low and velvet-dark. “But don’t ever think I’ll stop. Even if you don’t want us to take care of you. I’ll keep pushing.”

Your stomach flips. You hate how warm your skin feels. How part of you leans toward him without meaning to. How his scent—like storm-wet pine and danger—makes your fingers twitch with a need you can’t name. His hand lifts to your face, gentle despite the fire in his eyes, knuckles brushing your cheek like you might vanish if he touched too hard.

“If anyone else touches you again,” he adds softly, “I don’t care if they’re your customer. They won’t have hands left to touch with.”

You don’t answer.

But your heart races all the way home.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

After dinner, the boys were gathered on the second floor of the apartment. They had turned it into a studio to practice their choreo for performances. You could hear their music and their footsteps as they danced to the beat. 

You padded around the apartment to explore in the meantime. The apartment was massive. You didn’t realize how massive until you started walking. Every hallway turned into a gallery. Every room had windows tall enough to drown in. You passed a music room, a library, a room full of costumes and stage lights. You had no idea such penthouses existed in the city. But then again, they were demons who’d been in existence for hundreds of years. Who knows how much money they got.

On the kitchen counter, you found a sketchbook. Yours. But filled with things you didn’t remember drawing. Five faces. A moonlit shrine. A shattered sword. You still hadn’t gotten used to drawing what you figured were memories from your past lives. This was evidence in itself that they were telling the truth. You decide not to fight it anymore.

On the dresser, you find an earring. No pair. You picked it up and your chest twisted, it felt a bit familiar.

In the lounge, a scarf folded neatly on a velvet chair. You held it to your face and inhaled. A scent you couldn’t name, but the fabric felt soft. Again, familiar. 

You didn’t know whether to scream or cry. It was like finding single pieces of a gigantic puzzle. You were sure these things meant something to one of them. You’d ask, in time. 

After their practice was over, the boys found you sat in the livingroom. You were reading the book Romance had given you which made him smile. They greeted you one by one, some went off to shower, some to the kitchen for a snack. 

It was Jinu who sat next to you. 

“How’s the choreo going?” you ask, eyes never leaving the page. 

“Good. How’s the book?” He nodded. He knew how badly Romance had wanted to give that to you. 

“Good.” You looked up to softly smile at him. You were halfway through the story. The characters blurred together—tragic lovers separated by fate, drawn to one another through time. A story too close to your own.

Jinu looked at the book title with a gaze you couldn’t recognize. Like he was debating on something he wanted to say. 

“Did you want to hear another story?” 

That piqued your interest. You slowly shut the book, placing it down on the couch as a sign for him to continue. Jinu didn’t look at you. His gaze remained downcast. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. 

“I wasn’t always someone people bowed to.”

You looked up at him. The air around him seemed to change—heavier, stiller. Like his shadow was longer than it had been a second ago.

“I was born in a fishing village by the bay,” he said. “Back when the tides still carried salt and prayers.” 

“My mother was a seamstress. My sister was eight years younger. We were poor. Poor enough to boil weeds and pretend it was soup.”

Your breath caught. His eyes seemed distant. Far away as he recalled his life four hundred years ago. 

“The only thing we owned of value was a bipa. My mother’s. She taught me how to play it before her hands got too swollen to hold the strings.” His eyes went distant, haunted. “I played in the markets for coins. It was never enough.”

He paused, jaw tight. “Then one night, I heard a voice.”

“Gwi Ma offered me everything. Fame. Gold. Silk sheets and stages carved from jade. And I said yes.”

You stared at him. He finally met your eyes—and this time, the pain there was real.

“I left,” he whispered. “Without a word. My mother. My sister. I never even turned around. I don’t know if they lived another week.”

You released a breath as you felt your heart fracture at his words.

“I just… ran. Into the palace. Into adoration. And never looked back.”

He exhaled, eyes heavy with guilt. “The crowds worshipped me. I performed for kings and their consorts. They called me divine. The courtiers fought for my smile. And it still wasn’t enough.”

“I didn’t deserve peace,” he said, voice brittle. “But then I saw you.” His voice softened—fragile like old silk.

“You were a maid. You had ink on your fingers and a habit of humming while sweeping the floors. You didn’t bow. You didn’t flatter. You rolled your eyes at me.”

Your chest tightened. So that’s who you were in your past life when you first met him.

“And when I asked you why… you said I looked lonely.”

A pause.

“I fell in love with you the moment you looked at me like I was a boy. Not a god.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But I made you weak. I brought you too close. It was impossible for someone like you, so pure of heart, to exist in that palace. I should’ve known there would be vipers waiting to strike.”

You didn’t interrupt. You couldn’t.

“There was a concubine who used to love watching me play. She’d call upon me to her chambers for performances. Pay a hefty sum for an appearance in her parties. She saw you and I in one of the pavilions and she didn’t like it.” A look of anguish flashed on Jinu’s face. “I knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out. I wasn’t a fool. I knew the women of the palace liked me for more than just my voice.” His fists tightened on his lap. 

“She poisoned your tea. I found you in the gardens…you…you were still smiling.”

He blinked once. Just once. “You died in my arms. And I didn’t even know how to mourn.”

You stared at him, tears pricking your eyes. You wished so hard to remember. To recall who he was back then. Something, anything, so you could share a memory with him.

“I went back to Gwi Ma. I begged. I offered everything again.” He swallowed. “That’s when the pact began. He told me… if I could bind other demons to your soul, tether you tightly enough, you’d return.” His eyes flicked to yours. He was trembling.

“So I did. I found them. One by one. I gave up pieces of myself to forge the bond. Even if I had to share you, I- I was willing to do anything to have you back. I waited lifetimes. We all did.”

He reached out now, slowly, like you might disappear. “And now you’re here.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But your body leaned toward his—drawn like a string was being pulled behind your ribs. He exhaled shakily. “I still don’t know what happened to them. My mother. My sister. I never went back.”

You reached for his hand. Fingers brushing his wrist. It was the gentlest thing you’d ever done. Jinu held onto your touch like a lifeline as the pain of his memories came rushing back.

“I think… they’d forgive you,” you whispered. He laughed softly. Bitter. Grateful. “I don’t.”

And somehow that made you want to forgive him more. You let him pull you closer. Let your head fall beneath his chin, chest pressed lightly to his side. He held you like you might break. Like he didn’t deserve to hold you at all. This was the closest he’s ever been to you since first seeing you in that square. His heart constricted. 

“I won’t make the same mistake again,” he murmured. You felt the words against your scalp. “I will never leave you. Even if it kills me.”

You tilted your head up—slow, searching. His lips hovered a breath away. The look in his eyes was agonizing: pure want, reverence, restraint. He was begging without words.

And maybe you wanted to say yes. Maybe you wanted to close that distance.

But something in you hesitated. The memory of danger still ghosting your ribs. The smell of blood. The crackle of old fire. You shouldn’t want this. He was a demon.

But then again—

He was yours.

Jinu didn’t move. Not really. But his eyes…God, his eyes were starving.

Like a man who hadn’t eaten in centuries and now sat trembling before the one thing he was never allowed to touch. His fingers flexed once on his thigh, like he was holding himself back from grabbing you. From yanking you into his arms and claiming what had always been his.

His lips parted—his breath shallow. “I shouldn’t,” he whispered, voice ragged. “Not yet.”

That almost did it.

Not yet.

Not no.

He wasn’t denying that he wanted to. Only that he was trying—failing—not to. You felt something pulse low in your spine. The bond again. Soft and hot, like a wire coiling tighter. Tighter.

You leaned closer. Not much. Just enough for your shoulder to brush his chest. His breath hitched.

“Y/N…” he warned. Or maybe it was a plea. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

But you did. You knew exactly.

Your hand grazed his chest—over fabric, over his heart. It beat like a war drum under your palm. And he—this ancient thing with a voice like honey and a soul soaked in sin—shook under your touch.

“You waited for me,” you said softly. “Across lifetimes.”

He gave a shaky laugh. “Every night. Every fucking century.”

“And now I’m here,” you whispered.

“And now you’re here.”

He reached up—finally—like a man about to touch something sacred. Fingers grazing your cheek so gently it made you ache. You didn’t flinch this time. You leaned into it. And when he cradled your face in his hands, it wasn’t just touch.

It was claim.

The bond lit up like a match to kerosene—searing, seeping through every crack in your soul like molten gold. You gasped. So did he. His forehead pressed against yours, and for a moment, the whole world narrowed to this.

Him. You. Breath tangled. Thread pulled tight. Two hearts beating like one. 

His voice broke against your mouth.

“I loved you. Before I even knew what love meant. I loved you in that garden. In that palace. In every life you bled through. I loved you while you died in my arms. And I love you now.”

Tears slowly gathered in the corner of your eyes at his confession. Your chest tightening with every word he uttered. Let all reason be damned. Nothing in the world could be more true right now, more real, than this.

Your lips brushed his when you exhaled. You didn’t mean to. You were just breathing—but it was enough.

It shattered him.

He kissed you like he was starving. Like this was his first meal in centuries. Like his immortality had meant nothing without this.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was ruinous. Possessive. His mouth moved against yours like he’d memorized it across time—hungry, reverent, desperate. Like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

And you…

You kissed him back.

Because some part of you remembered. The garden. The incense. The ache of his name in your mouth before it was ever spoken.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer. His hand slid to your waist. He groaned low in his throat when you pressed into him, fire threading under your skin, a live wire finally connected.

The kiss slowed. Deepened.

When he finally pulled back, barely an inch, his eyes were wild.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “You always were.”

And in that moment, you didn’t deny it.

Not this time.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

The kiss hadn’t been loud.

Barely a sigh. A whisper of fabric. The faint rustle of limbs and emotion finally giving in.

But they felt it.

From different corners of the apartment, the bond trembled like a shared heartbeat. A hush fell over the rooms like snowfall. Every boy froze.

Abby paused in the hallway with his forehead pressed to the doorframe, eyes shut.

Romance stood motionless in the kitchen, hands tight around the edge of the marble counter, breath held like a confession.

Mystery curled beneath his bedsheets, face half-buried in the sleeve of your old hoodie, his claws twitching against the mattress.

Baby sat in the far window seat of the lounge, unmoving, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable—except for the slight twitch of his jaw.

They knew. They didn’t need to see it. They felt it through the bond—the hum, the spark, the slow unfurling of something sacred.

You kissed Jinu.

And something ancient and knotted in all of them unclenched. Not jealousy. Not really. It wasn’t rage or bitterness that stirred in their chests.

It was relief.

Because Jinu deserved this.

He had waited the longest. He had suffered the most. He had built the very foundation of the Crimson Pact with trembling hands and bloodied knees, driven by the memory of your lifeless body in his arms. He had found them. Bound them. Led them.

And now…He had finally been given a sliver of what he lost.

Abby exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. His hand closed into a fist against the doorframe. “Good for you, hyung,” he whispered.

Romance closed his eyes and tilted his head to the ceiling, the corner of his mouth lifting into a quiet, almost reverent smile. “Took him fucking long enough.”

Mystery blinked slowly, purring low in his throat. “She’s starting to remember,” he murmured into the blankets. “She’s letting herself feel it.”

And Baby… Baby didn’t move. But in his eyes, a hunger lit up. Not the kind that devoured. The kind that waited. That watched from the shadows with claws pressed to his ribs.

It would be his turn soon. He could wait. He’d waited before. But not much longer.

Across the apartment, the bond shimmered—warmer now. Alive in a way it hadn’t been in lifetimes. Each of them felt it. Not just the connection, but the hope.

She’s letting us in. She’s starting to fall again. Their hands twitched. Hearts pounded. Mouths parted with breathless need. And beneath it all, one singular thought pulsed through the Crimson Pact:

Soon, it’ll be me.

Not out of competition. Not to steal the moment. But because you belonged to all of them. And in every life, one by one… you had.

Jinu had always kissed you first.

But he would not be the last. TO BE CONTINUED

───────── ༺🜃༻ ───────── A/N: Huaaah I died inside writing this chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed this one. The next chapter follows the same theme of relationship building and we'll get to see more intimate moments and backstories of the other boys! Let me know your thoughts in the comments and feel free to Reblog and Like this chapter if you enjoyed it! Till next time! Willa x.

───────── ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆ ─────────

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[syncaleb]

-> soft yandere caleb hcs:

1. “you’re mine. you said so.” you get busy—miss a call, forget a text—and when you finally answer, his voice is calm, too calm. “i waited. for hours.” you apologize, sweetly, teasingly even, but he doesn’t laugh. “you promised you’d always be there, remember? don’t break your promises. i… don’t handle that well.” and later, when he holds you close, you feel the way his hands tremble slightly against your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

2. his name in your phone has a lock emoji. -> he changed it himself. he also disabled the option to delete his contact. “just in case someone thinks they can slide into your messages,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “they’ll know who you belong to.”

3. he tracks you. -> not in a creepy way (okay maybe a little), but he has your location always. and when he sees you’re somewhere unexpected, he texts immediately: “what are you doing there?” ……you ask how he knew. “because you’re mine pipsqueak, and i need to know you’re safe. that’s not too much to ask, is it?” and the look in his eyes? he’d burn the whole galaxy just to get you back home.

4. he doesn’t like you being friends with your ex-> at all. he doesn’t raise his voice. doesn’t tell you not to. he just shuts down emotionally, turns icy and unreadable. it’s bound with his actions though… he would probably still do everything acts of service wise. but he wants you to understand something is wrong, wants you to probe… and when you confront him, he finally murmurs, “i don’t want to be second choice to anyone. i want to be your only. and if that’s too much—” you cut him off with a kiss. you have to. because his voice was starting to sound a little unhinged and a little too honest.

5. he locks the door when you argue.-> not to trap you essentially (which he thinks he isn’t doing…) just to make sure you don’t leave. “we’re not going to sleep angry pips,” he says, softly. “you don’t walk away from me. not when we love each other this much baby.” and when you calm down, he pulls you into his lap, arms like iron around you, and whispers again and again, “mine. mine. mine.”

6. he doesn’t like you dressing up for anyone but him.-> you put on a new outfit, stunning, radiant—and his jaw clenches. why are you so breath-taking my gorgeous he thinks… no wonder he wants a world with just the two of you. “who’s that for?” / “me,” you say, innocent. but he steps closer, cups your jaw gently, possessively. “next time, wear it only when we’re alone. i don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine. or~ you’d hate how i become and say something like i killed your old caleb.”

7. his anger is unpredictable.->when someone flirts with you in front of him, he doesn’t start a fight. but sometimes the look in his eyes speaks more than words ever could. maybe he will break their bones when you leave, maybe he will let it slide. who knows what caleb’s mood dictates him to do. sometimes, he just smiles. and later, when you’re home, he pins you softly to the bed, hands on either side of your head.“do you want them?” he asks, voice flat. “because i can make sure they never speak to you again.” and you— you tell him it’s just him. it’s always been him. like a prayer, like a chanting to balm his rage. and he finally kisses you like a starved man, whispering “good girl.”

8. he deletes numbers from your phone.->you’ll never notice. he’s too smooth. but people you used to talk to? stop replying. and when you ask caleb, he just shrugs with a soft smirk, “maybe they realized they could never compete with me.” and then changes the subject with a kiss and that dangerous look in his eyes again…. this isn’t out of sheer possessiveness though its just out of trust issues.

9. he doesn’t like letting you sleep mad at him.-> you try to turn away in bed, still upset. away from him… back on his face like an iron wall. but he slides his arms around you from behind, strong and unyielding.“no. you don’t get to walk away from me in your sleep, either.” and you can feel how serious he is. “we fix this now, angel. i’ll do anything. but you don’t leave.”

10. he has nightmares about losing you.-> he never tells you the full details either. just that he wakes up shaking, pale, and pulls you into his lap, holding you so tightly it almost hurts. “i saw you leaving me,” he whispers into your neck. “don’t ever do that. i wouldn’t survive it.”

[nhmkhnh]

FRAT RULES, FUCK HARDER.

PAIRINGS: dom!frat girl!vi x sub!fem!reader

PREFACE: you’re the pretty girl she swore she wouldn’t fall for… and now she’s showing up to your 8am class in yesterday’s hoodie and a hickey the size of zaun.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: uhmmm i don’t even know what’s up with me lately, guess i’ve officially entered my smut era hahaaa 😭 like... who would've thought?? there was a time i literally didn’t know how to write smut at all—if past me saw what i’m writing now, she’d be absolutely shooketh 😭💀

WARNING(S): lowercase, explicit content (minors & men dni) TAGS: strap-on sex ;; hoodie kink (?) ;; possessive!vi ;; cocky!vi ;; party sex ;; mirror sex ;; jealousy sex ;; overstimulation ;; public teasing ;; pet names (r: baby/princess) ;; vi has a strap collection don't ask me why. navigation.

1. vi meets you at a mutual party and makes it her life mission to get your number by the end of the night. she’s obnoxious about it too—grabbing the aux, playing some sexy slow jam, leaning on the doorframe with a red solo cup like,

“this one’s dedicated to the girl in the corner with the skirt i’m tryna take off later.” you swear you’re not into her. and yet.

2. she’s the type to crash your sorority movie night just to sit beside you, smelling like weed, cheap perfume, and danger. she’ll whisper things like:

“this plot’s shit… bet i could give you a better night in twenty minutes.” and you hate how your legs press together every time she smirks.

3. she wears crop tops with her frat letters, loose sweats slung low, calvin’s peeking out, and a backwards cap. tongue piercing glinting. she chews gum like sin. she knows exactly what she looks like when she sprawls across the couch and says,

“c’mere, i’ll make you forget your gpa.”

4. she rizz texts at 2am like:

“u up?” “u want sum chaos or sum comfort?” “im outside. bring ass.” and when you open the door? she's shirtless under her zipped-down hoodie, biting her lip, eyes red-rimmed and so so needy.

5. frat girl!vi always smells like beer, cologne, and sweat—but like… in a way that makes you insanely feral. her room's a disaster, but her bed is soft and warm and always has a hoodie of yours she "accidentally" stole.

6. she calls you “princess” and “baby girl” in public, throws her arm around your shoulder at parties and growls in your ear,

“bet none of these fuckers know what you sound like when you’re begging.” you shove her but your face is burning.

7. vi fights anyone who flirts with you at a party. straight up pushes a guy back by the chest like,

“back off, bro. she’s not single—she’s mine.” you haven’t even officially dated yet. that doesn’t stop her from marking you up every damn weekend.

8. she drives you to 8am class in her beat-up bike, still in her boxers, still buzzed from last night. one hand on the throttle, the other on your bare thigh, saying,

“why don’t you skip today and let me fuck that pretty brain right outta your head?” ma’am. please.

9. her tattoos peek out of her tank top when she’s lifting weights in the frat basement gym, smirking when she catches you watching. she drops the barbell and says,

“wanna ride something heavier, sweetheart?” the girls' bathroom has never recovered.

10. she makes you sit in her lap at every frat bonfire. she’ll wrap her arms around you and kiss your neck in front of everyone like it’s a damn claiming ritual, while whispering,

“tell me who you belong to, baby. c’mon. say it.”

11. frat girl!vi has zero impulse control when she’s drunk. she’ll pull you into a closet during a party, lock the door, and say,

“seven minutes in heaven? nah, we’re staying until your knees give out.” you emerge half an hour later. hair a mess. nobody questions it.

12. vi loves taking you to parties just to show you off—hand on your waist, other hand low on your back. she tells everyone,

“y’all can look, but if anyone touches her? you’ll be drinkin’ outta a straw ‘til graduation.” and then she turns to you and grins like the devil.

13. when you're studying in the library, she slides in beside you, unzips your hoodie just to leave hickeys on your collarbone. says,

“you’re doing great, baby. just needed to leave my signature, y’know?” you’re late to lecture. again.

14. she gets banned from your dorm after sneaking in one too many nights, but she still climbs up your window with the dumbest grin.

“romeo who? let me in, babe. i brought snacks and strap.” and you always let her in.

15. she gets absolutely feral when you wear her frat hoodie and nothing else. throws you on the bed and growls,

“you’re reppin’ my name now, huh? let me show you what it means to wear those letters.” and babe… you don’t walk straight for two days.

ཐི❤︎ཋྀ smut bonus:

1. vi has a whole-ass drawer labeled “emergency strap kit.” no, seriously. it has lube, multiple harnesses, cute pastel-colored toys and an engraved one she calls “the finisher.” if you're ever alone in her room too long, she’ll lean in with that low rasp and go,

“pick your poison, sweetheart. we’re not stopping ‘til the sun’s up.” she means it too. you’ve cried on that mattress more times than you can count—always in the best way.

2. she’s obsessed with eating you out while you’re still wearing her clothes—especially those loose-ass sweatpants that hang off your hips. she’ll tug them down slow with her teeth, spread your thighs and groan,

“fuck, baby… always so wet for me. look at this mess. i haven’t even touched you yet.” and when she does? you’re shaking. she pins your hips down. makes you say her name over and over like a prayer.

3. she moans when you moan. vi’s a vocal dom—gritty growls, filthy praise, shamelessly unhinged. she’ll be balls-deep in you with her strap, sweat dripping down her chest, hair sticking to her forehead, and she’ll pant:

“you feel that? that’s all mine. you were fuckin’ made for me, princess.” then she’ll grab your jaw and say, “say it. tell me who you belong to.” and if you hesitate? she slaps the inside of your thigh and starts going harder.

4. frat girl!vi loves mirror sex. like, she’ll drag you to her full-length mirror and bend you over in front of it, whispering,

“look at you, baby… fucked-out on my strap, droolin’ on yourself. that’s my good girl.” she holds you by the throat sometimes. not to choke—just to keep you watching. and when you come? she grins, proud as hell, and doesn’t stop.

5. she has this thing where she fucks you on her frat letters jacket like it’s a ceremony. drapes it under you on the bed and says,

“you’re mine now. no one else gets to touch you like this. say it.” and when you do, breathless and ruined, she just goes, “good girl. now scream my name.”

6. vi adores overstimulation. she’ll edge you at first—multiple times, licking you and pulling back, teasing your clit with her fingers and saying,

“you want my strap, babe? then beg. crawl into my lap and beg like a pretty little slut.” and when you finally get it? she makes sure you take all of it. hands on your hips, body flush to yours, murmuring, “you wanted this, didn’t you? be a big girl. take it all for me, baby.”

[chlorinecake]

— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂

▹ PAIRING: soft!dom fiancé bangchan x f. reader

▹ SYNOPSIS: Chan gets a little upset upon realizing that you weren’t wearing your engagement ring, but you make it up to him by letting him fuck you in his studio after a long day of work…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, teasing, dry humping and heavy petting, mentions of food, breeding kink + cream pie (chan’s a possessive freak and in love with the idea of getting you preggers lol), dirty talk, light breath play (f. receiving), pet names (good girl, baby), that’s about it

▹ WORD COUNT: 1.8k — DAY 2

BEING THE AMAZING partner you are, you decided to stop by the studio where your fiancé was working and bring him some dinner, and by dinner, I mean a box full of his favorite takeout foods:

Grilled beef, steamed rice, broccoli teriyaki, and a chicken egg roll…

He was working a few hours overtime that day, and aside from the fact that you wanted him to have something good to eat after expending such efforts, you really just missed his presence…

You missed looking at his gorgeous face and hearing his adorable voice while he did absolutely nothing but vibe with you… you missed having his hands on you and your hands on him as you both got lost in the lusts of your own hearts—

“Chris,” your voice came out gently as you stood behind him, caressing over his tense shoulders while he remained seated in his desk chair, “just rest your little head, baby… you worry too much…”

“I do… you’re right…” he sighs deeply while leaning his head back against the headrest to look at you, the smell of takeout distant in the room.

His eyes are clearly tired as you know he’s been overworked lately, but you hold yourself from bringing it up to him, placing a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead instead.

“Thanks for stopping by, though, princess,” he went on, and you already feel like he’s trying to push you away, despite how you literally just got here, “I have to get back to work now, though—”

“You’re always getting back to work, Channie…” you chuckle slightly, and his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs come across a particularly tight muscle in his left shoulder…

Digging in, you massage the knot gently, but the pressure you apply doesn’t feel so soothing at first—

“Ouch, that hurts!” Chan exclaims with a wince, and you simply smooth over his skin with your touch, massaging a different area instead as you decided to give that spot time to heal on its own.

“Look… your body’s aching as if you’ve been working in a field all day… that’s why I’m here to make you feel better,” you return, and his body is clearly starting to relax the more and more your fingers smooth along the base of his neck and back down his shoulders again, soft hums coming from his throat at the sensation.

“But you don’t have to, love…” he says, voice a little weak as the warmth of your touch reeled him into relaxation, “just having you around is making me feel better already…”

“Aww,” you pout facetiously, even though he can’t see it from where he’s sitting, “You missed me, Channie?… Your very own nagging fiancé?…”

“Nooo,” he corrects, turning in his chair now to get a proper look at you, “I missed my beautiful wife to be, and my adoring partner in crime…”

Reaching out a hand, the veins in his arm appear highlighted under the dim studio lighting as he guides your face into his before giving you a kiss that you both smile into… weakly though, considering how it’s literally 4 in the morning...

Breaking from the contact, you tug at his wrist slightly, not letting go until he finally gets up from the chair, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.

The look on his face now very clearly lets you know what’s on his mind, but you simply decide to sit on his lap in a straddle position, wanting him to make the first move from here…

And he did.

“Can I?” He asks while lifting his hands from the couch cushion, hovering them over your hips and being careful not to touch until you allowed him to.

“Of course, silly,” you chuckle, making him blush slightly at your brief fit of laughter.

“It’s not like anyone’s here to tease us for it,” you went on, thinking back to the countless times that your fiancé’s friends (specifically Minho and Han) would outwardly gag whenever you two publicly display affection—

“You’re right, baby… no one’s around to bother us,” Chris breathes in agreement, finally letting his eager hands rest at your hips before adding a bit of pressure as he caressed up your waist and along your thighs, “The two of us could practically get away with doing anything we want for the next few hours in here…”

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was specifically implying, but you decide to play dumb anyway, just because you absolutely loved hearing his strong Aussie accent come out whenever he was sexually worked up with you…

“Takeout’s still waiting to be opened, Chris,” you whisper, letting your nails gently drag against his scalp as he melts into your touch, his silky curls looping around your fingers, “we shouldn’t keep it out for too long or else it might spoil…”

“Well I’m not in the mood to eat anymore,” he whispers back in a raspy voice, and you let your weight sink further into his lap, your bottom resting right above the spot his true hunger was pulling him most.

“Use your words, baby… tell me what you want,” You press, leaving a kiss along his clenched jawline… and another one on his pretty thick lips… and a third one against his Adam’s Apple that makes him groan out loud…

Or maybe his groan had more to do with the way you were also rocking your hips against his clothed hard on, making his hands slightly grip at the fabric of your jeans for any sort of leverage.

“Why… of all the bottoms that you own, did you close to wear tight, denim jeans at a time like this?” He asks with frustration, making you giggle a bit at the way his chest rises and falls every time you circle in his lap, the rough material tantalizing him…

“Don’t you think they make my ass look good, though?” You tease with a pout, watching as he smirks at your question, only to hiss at your movements again.

“They make your ass look great, babe… but they also make it impossible for me to touch you properly…”

He was doing it again, you thought to yourself… That thing where he gets you to do what he wants without specifically asking.

Yes, Chris was a typically a pretty confident guy, but sometimes, you had a way of bringing out his shy, reluctant side when it came to sexual things, but you still found it cute nonetheless.

“Fine, then… since you’re too shy to ask for it properly, I’ll just do it myself,” you say in a bratty tone while getting up from his lap, and he visibly scoffs at the way you stood before him now, fingers meddling with the buckle of your jeans until he stopped you.

“C’mere,” he huffs, pulling you close to him by the belt loop of your jeans until you fall into the couch beside him with a gentle plop.

His smirks again once he finally unzips the rough fabric just enough to see a leak of what’s beneath, and the expression is so wide that his dimples come through…

At first, you’re not sure why he’s a grinning mess, but you understand once his fingers run over the lace of your black panties, the same pair that he brought you a while back on one of his tours cross-country.

“I’ll take a wild guess and say you wore these for me, huh?” He asks with a husk to his tone now that you’re bumping your knee against his clothed hard-on, and his hips subconsciously chase the friction.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, lifting up on your elbows now to look at him better, “I just didn’t expect you to take so long to get ‘em off me…”

“How cute,” he returns, and your eyes follow the veins trailing his forearm, his flexed fingers hooking at either side of your hips before tugging your jeans the rest of the way down and past your ankles with your panties, tucking them under the couch cushion for his private use later…

“Cute?” You repeat with a raised brow, spreading your legs before him as you both watched each others cores intently, practically itching within yourself for him to finally untie his sweatpants.

“Yup. Love it when you get in your little attitudes,” he says plainly, but his smile is half-hearted now as he leans over you, bracing himself with his hands before kissing your forehead.

You try to follow where his eyes are looking, but his bangs are in the way, and you can’t help but ask him what the matter is…

However, he doesn’t answer immediately, simply taking your hands in his and placing a kiss to l the closed knuckles of your left hand, right before pinning your wrist at either side of your head on the couch.

And that’s when it hits you… the reason behind his sudden change in aura:

You forgot to put your engagement ring on…

You had only taken it off for a second before coming to meet him in the studio because some oil from the takeout bag had spilled on your hands… while washing up in the bathroom, you had put the ring in your purse and simply forgot to put it back on…

Though, you knew at this point it’d be worthless trying to get that story through Chan’s thick skull, as he had already made up in his mind that you were playing games with him…

“Where’s your ring, baby?” Your fiancé asks while shimmying down his boxers and trousers with one hand, and you near choke on air at the sight of his glossy and girthy tip springing out before you, red and angry with need.

“I-it’s in my purse,” you stammer, almost feeling guilty now that you had even forgot to put it back on in the first place, “I can go and get it—”

“No need,” he interrupts you, lining himself up with your entrance as the depth of his voice equally catches you off guard, “just make sure you put it back on after this, yea?”

You winced at the sudden stretch of his cock filling you up just right, and your hips are already trembling at the delicious fullness.

“Channie… it slipped my mind, baby… please,” you say, and you’re not quite sure what it is that you’re begging for, but you always had a habit of going dumb around his cock, even if it’s just resting inside you.

“I gave you a simple order, love… now, do you understand me, yes or no?” He asks more sternly this time, thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccuping at the force.

“Y-yes, I understand,” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.

“Say it again,” he orders, and you listen, gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway.

You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.

“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention.

“Good enough to let me cum in you, huh?” He questions, but it’s more so of a suggestion than anything, and you oblige to it, nodding your head in desperation as your hips start to follow the movements of his.

“Yes, baby… w-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.

“Gonna put a baby in your pretty little stomach,” he huffs in between fucking you open with all his strength, “and at that point, who cares if you don’t have your ring on? Everyone will know who you belong to once your tummy’s all swollen because of me… tell me who this pussy belongs to…”

“Y-you, Channie,” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now.

“Louder…”

“It’s all- fuckkk… yours, b-baby,” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry at that given the way his hand is tightening around your throat, but you don’t mind… not one bit when it feels THIS. Fucking. Good…

He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he break away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.

The couch starts to creak to the rhythm of his movements, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the large cushions it was made with, otherwise you’re certain the both of you would’ve been on the floor at this point.

“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby… sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.

“F-fuck~” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you.

He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head.

“Cum in me,” you plead with a soft voice while, lips puffy from how hard you’d been biting them, and Chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star.

“Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now.

“Wait, Channie,” you say, thighs still trembling a bit as he pulled out of you, a bit too early though for you to remind him that his cum would only spill out—

“Shit,” he swears under his breath upon realizing, rushing to catch the fluid spilling from your cunt now with his fingers, trying not to get it on the couch, but to no avail.

He instead lets his fingers push the cum back into you, holding his wrist there until he’s able to reach for a napkin off of his desk to help clean you up.

“Stop that, baby,” he says with a mischievous smile, but only because your walls were sucking his digits in, preventing him from taking them out to clean them off, “give me some time to recharge and then we can go again, okay?…”

All you can bring yourself to do is hum at his words, and he in turn offers you another gentle smile.

Applying light pressure to your lower stomach, he finally gets your walls to release his fingers from the confines of your sloppy hole, wiping the residue off with the napkin.

“Didn’t expect you to cum this much,” you say in a sleepy tone while reaching for your jeans to slide them back on.

“Me neither,” he chuckles, readjusting his pants before getting up to toss the soiled napkin in the bin nearby, “but uh... just know that if in three weeks, we find out that our first future child was conceived on this couch, never tell this story to anyone…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 2 of my Kinktober Event !! This was also my first time publishing any written work for Stray Kids (my ult group XD) so feel free to tell me how I did in the comments !! Finally, if you're interested in reading more works like this, check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

also, check out THIS fic NEXT if you're interested in more...

[minkieater]

most to least likely in ateez to wanna share their girlfriend with the members…?

SHARETEEZ ☆ atz ot8 x fem!reader

please i love this topic so fucking much, thank you for asking this !!!!! shareteez is so important to me. the only government ship i used is yungi because im insane and addicted to them 😄 not proofread sorry 4 any mistakes <3

smut mdni 18+ | wc ~4k

most likely …

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀 ☆

idk what it is about hwa but something about him screams voyeurism to me. i think he’d be the one to bring it up, and i also think he’d share you with every single member if he could. as the oldest, even if he doesn’t share his personal items, something about sharing you gives him a sense of control. he’s always sitting in the corner of the hotel room, watching, analyzing as one of his best friends makes his girl feel good, but also, something about watching two people he loves together, right in front of his face, gets him off. he doesn’t wanna be involved— he wants to sit in his corner and watch, see how you react, see what the others do that he does or doesn’t do, watch how his members fall apart because of you. he’s prideful about it, it’s a way of showing you off, showing his members what they can have for a night but never to keep. he’s never jealous if you cum quick or if you’re screaming for another member, he’s watching with calculated eyes, taking notes, trying to ignore the ache of his cock that he doesn’t touch until he can’t take it anymore.

his favorite person to share you with is san. san is a passionate man in everything he does, his motivation never dies, and god does that statement remain true when it comes to sex. seonghwa is addicted to letting san fuck you, he’s the only member that’s fucked you more than once, hwa is obsessed with how you react for him, how easily you fall apart under his touch, the sounds the two of you make… seonghwa nearly asks for his wrists to be tied to the chair. its impossible not to stroke his cock while san’s eating you out, to not cum at the same time you do, to not drool as he watches the muscles in san’s toned back flex as he fucks you. hwa is a mess in his corner, his lap covered in cum, hand slick and wrist aching while his cock lays flaccid and utterly spent— but he still can’t stop, not when san hasn’t finished yet, not when you aren’t brainless and lifted to that fuzzy space that only san brings you to so easily. seonghwa could watch you for hours, his own personal movie, his favorite part would always be when you twisted your head to stare at him as you came, every single time. seonghwa would die a happy man in his corner if he was watching one of his best friends fuck you stupid.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐍 ☆

san would quite literally do anything his gf asked of him, but i think san is a fucking freak to begin with and watching you with someone else would be a dream to him. he’s obsessed with your pleasure, a demon possessed when it comes to getting you off, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t finishing from some ministrations of choi san. if you even so much as look at another member with lingering eyes he’s on it— he’s observant, he’s horny, and his mind is always going, thinking of something new, trying it out with you, getting you past the finish line with it. san is a quiet man but he’s always storing details away, saving them for later, rewording them into propositions to make you think it was his idea. when san drops the idea of you hooking up with someone else, you’re the one shocked as if he’d just stripped you bare, peered inside your mind, as if all your thoughts were written across your forehead. san doesn’t get jealous, he’d do anything to get you off, and he means that.

san giggled to himself when he watched you approach yeosang in the backlit bar. quiet and meek, san would have never expected yeosang to agree to dance with you— but the blush that crossed yeosang’s cheeks, how his ears tipped red, san knew he was going to have fun with this. san stood with wooyoung as he watched you dance with yeosang, grinding on him, hands around his neck, lips ghosting his skin, san’s pants were agonizingly tight and only grew tighter every time yeosang glanced their way with worried eyes. he didn’t stop, though, he never asked for permission, and for some reason it made san hornier that yeosang knew you called the shots. so when the three of you made it back to your shared place and you sat with your back pressed against san’s chest and yeosang between your thighs, it was no surprise to any of you when san ended up finishing untouched, ropes of hot cum painting your back, sticking your skin to his. it was so hot, hotter than san could have ever expected, too hot to not make the occurrence a regular thing. after that night you invited the rest of the boys to your bedroom, one by one, it became a game to you and san. who could get you off the fastest, who did new things that you could incorporate into your own sex life, who you wanted to invite back into the bedroom. san was always present, always watching, always right there, always touching, always finishing at the same time as you.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈 ☆

mingi would share the world with yunho, so yungi topping mingi’s gf is so real to me i’m 100% convinced it’s true. unlike the other two before him, mingi is possessive and jealous by nature, he can be shy and insecure, but never when it comes to yunho. he’s third on this list because i think he’d be dating his gf for less than six months before he let yunho get his hands on her, Grade A Lover Boy ™, he’s so open to the idea that he’s the one pushing it to happen— he’s been having threesomes with yunho ever since he started having sex, so when it comes to you, his perfect little girlfriend, why wouldn’t he want to show you off to yunho? he boasts about you all the time, how pliant you are for him, how your pussy is the best he’s ever had, how your body was sculpted by god himself. it makes yunho drool and fills mingi with such a sense of pride he needs to show him as soon as he can, let him experience it for himself, but asking you is the hard part. somehow explaining the relationship between the two without making it sound like he’s objectifying you in any way, because he’s not, you’re the two people in this world he loves the most, and he’s just as confident in yunho’s skills as he is in how he feels about you.

when you agree without a second of contemplation mingi knows he’s found the one. so he invites yunho over to your shared apartment on a random weeknight, a couple glasses of liquor between you to ease your one sided nerves, and you were laid out bare on your mattress before you had a moment to second guess. two huge men towered over you, taking you for everything you were worth, making you finish over and over and over until you had nothing left to give. yunho’s long fingers inside you combined with mingi’s thick, calloused hands roaming across your body, in your mouth, in your hair, when the both of them filled you up, at the same time, you were a sight to be seen by the end, the end that you weren’t sure would ever come. you didn’t want it to, and neither did mingi, who loved everything about it. he enjoyed threesomes with yunho always, but with you, they’ve never been more in tune with one another, it’s never been so intimate. fucking has always been fucking, but with you it was more, it was a dance, a rhythm, a mutual agreement never spoken out loud. mingi’s relationship with yunho changed after that— aspects of your own relationship with mingi changed after that. it didn’t stop with just that one time, neither you or mingi could let it be a one time thing, yunho kept coming over, the two of you kept seeking him out, even when you were in public yunho became regular, routine, never spoken about, only enjoyed.

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 ☆

even if wooyoung is a fucking freak i think this would definitely take him by surprise. i KNOW he is the mayor of freakville and would do anything at any point in time, but i think inviting someone else in, someone he knows so closely, so intimately, might make him double take just for a second. especially because its neither you or him that initiates it, it’s the third party peering in, the third party who has watched you, listened to you, can’t stop thinking about the two of you and wants to join in on the fun. you’re down immediately, but wooyoung…? as much as he would be down for a threesome, inviting a member in makes him think logistics. for once he’s thinking with his brain and not his cock when it comes to you, you’re his, and as much as he loves to show you off, a shred of insecurity lies deep in his gut somewhere. he thinks on it for a total of two (2) days and then he can’t stop thinking about it, what you’d look like under him, what you’d sound like, how he’d look inside you… it’s all too much for him all at once, the realization that he needs it, that he’d beg for it if it came down to it.

but he quickly remembers that it was him the two of you needed that final yes from. seonghwa comes over as soon as he shoots the text and the three of you are stripped bare without as much as hello, wooyoung thinks that maybe the two of you have him beat in freakiness. he doesn’t feel left out for a moment, though, not as seonghwa slips into easily found dominance, giving the two of you instruction, watching you make out sloppily on the bed before he’s pulling you apart and making you obey him. wooyoung’s cock was rock hard the moment he stepped foot into your bedroom, as soon as seonghwa used that voice on him, hitting that sweet submissive spot in his brain he couldn’t always tap into so easily. you were both switches in your relationship, neither of you dominant all the time, usually switching in an out of roles during one singular session, but seonghwa tamed you both with ease and wooyoung ate it up, he was a whimpering mess before he knew it, cock overstimulated and red and angry, laid against his stomach still wet from seonghwa’s mouth as he watched him fuck into you with no mercy— you were a crying, screaming mess, too, already came too many times, yet none of you wanted to stop. seonghwa was toying with you both and wooyoung was obsessed, he let it go on until either you or seonghwa had enough, and it seemed you had the same idea, too. both of you wanting to please him, satisfy him, give him what he wanted from both of you. only on nights where both you and wooyoung were reminiscing particularly hard did you call him and beg him to come over again, to dominate you both, to send you back into that headspace you’d never forget.

𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 ☆

yeosang is only down here cus i think if you brought it up poorly you’d hurt his feelings. he’s really a chill guy and he’s super versatile when it comes to sex, i think there’s not much that he’d say no to, but he’d definitely have to think it over for a long time before deciding to say yes to opening up your relationship to anyone, let alone another member. you’d have several conversations about it before even thinking about choosing a partner, setting boundaries for one another, what a threesome would consist of, why you’re doing it in the first place. choosing someone was another week-long conversation, going through every single member before deciding on one together, the reasons why you were choosing him, making sure none of this was being easily decided. yeosang is heavily aware that this is a big ask of another member, and he won’t be anything but wise in his choosing, in his intentions. then it came down to actually asking him, the safety of it all, precautions and boundaries, what would actually happen during the encounter. yeosang would want all bases covered before going into it, you’re too important to him to lose, and his members are too important to him to fuck up his dynamic with any of them. it’d be months of just talking and planning before anything actually happened.

the two of you choose wooyoung because he’s the closest to you both, you spend a decent amount of time together just you three, wooyoung going as far as joking that you adopted him to the other members all the time. he’s kind, respectful and light-hearted, you both trust him deeply, and you think you could show him a good time, and vice versa. wooyoung is def thrown off when you approach him with the seriousness of it all, he’s probably like yeah sure and then you two throw a five page long essay about why you chose him and what would happen in said threesome. not really. but it probably feels like that to wooyoung, who’s ready to strip his clothes off when you asked him if he’s open-minded. yeosang is feeling confident when the night finally comes, and falls into pace and rhythm with wooyoung easily, the two of them bouncing off one another and leaving you a writhing mess. it’s a dance of hands and spit and tongues and cum, kissing yeosang while riding wooyoung’s face, blowing wooyoung while yeosang stretches you out, relying on two sets of strong shoulders while they both try to fit inside you, fighting to keep your eyes open to watch as they messily makeout over your shoulder. it was a true threesome; not one of you left out, no one left untouched, wooyoung was exactly what you expected him to be, if not more. it left yeosang feeling so confident that he’s the one to suggest it happen again— after you caught him making out with wooyoung after one too many beers at the bar.

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎 ☆

jeong yunho is a deeply possessive man, we all know this, and i think there’s only one way this could possibly go. he isn’t possessive out of insecurity or jealousy, but because you’re his, and no one else should be able to see all of you, hear you the way only he gets you. soft and submissive, bendable, pliant, obeying— that’s how he loves you, how he needs you, yunho is dominant, extremely dominant, and when it comes to your sex life, you will not do anything unless he asks it of you, or unless he makes you. so when you make a silly joke about fucking mingi, he takes it personally, he almost spanks you for it— why would you want to invite anyone else into your bedroom? why do you want someone else to fuck you? you had a long session that night, yunho took it upon himself to fuck some sense back into you, because yunho is all you need, jokes or not, you know better than that. as the days followed, yunho found himself daydreaming about fucking both of you, dominating you at the same time, two people crying and begging at his mercy… it was less about sharing you and more about making the both of you his, even if it was just for a night. his cock was standing tall at the thought, he could see it in his head, thinking of his best friend that way opened another can of worms he wasn’t sure he even wanted to act on, so he didn’t. not for months.

then there’s that one time he’s out with you and mingi somewhere completely innocent, like the farmer’s market, somewhere the three of you go often, probably twice a month when your schedules allow. the two of you are deep in conversation standing in front of a fruit stand, and yunho’s speaking to you, trying to get your attention but neither of you hear him, and it pisses him off. he snaps his fingers, something he does to you when you’re lost in a session, when your mind floats away even with all of your training, when he needs you to come back down to earth. but instead of your head snapping up it’s the both of you, with wide eyes and parted lips, waiting for yunho to say something, waiting for instruction. it awakens a feeling he buried deep in his gut that he couldn’t help but get you both in the car and back to your place immediately. the bond the three of you shared has never gone unnoticed in your years of being friends, and that mental link you had was proving itself more than ever now, how both you and mingi went straight to the bedroom, sat yourselves quietly on the bed awaiting yunho’s instruction. it was heaven to yunho, as he instructed mingi on how exactly to make you cum, how to suck on your clit, how to curve his fingers inside you to hit that one spot that made you squirt on demand. it was even better when he instructed you on jerking mingi off, how he held mingi’s hands behind his back, how he made you edge him over and over until he cried, abdomen clenching and sweat beading down his skin. yunho’s favorite was when you both sucked him off at the same time, how your tongues danced with each other on his cock, how you both had that gleam in your eye solely to please him. yunho couldn’t get enough after that— having one person completely submit themselves to him was one thing, but to have two? it’s safe to say that was not the last time mingi was in your shared bedroom with yunho.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 ☆

another possessive demon freak is hongjoong! you would piss him off so bad if you didn’t bring this up in a delicate way, honestly even if you did bring it up delicately he’d still prolly be pissed off. i think he’s the only member that would get mad mad tho, like not speak to you or sleep on the couch or something. why would you need anyone but him? he gives you everything you ask for, and it’s still not enough? when would it be enough for you???? it drives him insane for days, bro can’t work because he’s legitimately tripping over you thirsting after another one of his members. plus your sex life is great, he breaks your back every time he fucks you, he doesn’t consider it sex unless you’ve came two or three times. why would you need anyone else??? even if he could accept the fact that you wanted more— he has to come to terms with the fact that he’s to share you? the thought is ridiculous. someone else seeing you spread out, writhing, hearing you, possibly touching you? it makes him homicidal tbh he’s actually fucking crazy. knowing you have exes makes him rage enough, but to willingly let someone else see you is a whole different ordeal.

but he hated the idea of letting someone else watch a little less, so there’s your compromise. you let him choose because he’s insane and he tries to think of someone who would get the most pleasure out of sitting off to the side and just enduring, someone borderline pathetic, someone so horny they’d say yes to everything. naturally his mind leads him right to wooyoung, who said yes in a heartbeat. sat in the corner of the room in a cozy chair, wooyoung already had his pants pulled down to his thighs when hongjoong had just started kissing you. he smiled into your lips, knowing he was putting on a show, pride consuming him at the fact that he got to show this part of you off. as much as he hated the idea initially, he warmed up to it quickly when he realized how desperate wooyoung was, when he saw how badly wooyoung wanted to join in, wanted to be touched… depriving him of that made his cock harder, made him want to please you more, wanted to show wooyoung what he’ll never fucking have. hearing wooyoung whine and moan and gasp whenever he locked eyes with you, when hongjoong made you cum again, it made hongjoong want to work harder, want to make you cum again and again and again, just to hear you, to hear him, to dangle you right in front of wooyoung’s face. hongjoong never thought of himself as an exhibitionist but i think that experience definitely changed his life, and he wouldn’t mind showing you off for someone else again.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎 ☆

tbh i think jongho would be weirded out. he doesn’t see a point in opening up your relationship unless he wasn’t enough for his gf, and at that point he’d just end the relationship lol. if he was invited in to someone else’s relationship i think he’d literally say fuck no. too easy to get messy, for feelings to get involved, what if another member got jealous and couldn’t look at jongho the same way? these guys are his brothers, he doesn’t need to know what the inside of their girlfriend feels like. that’s territory he’d legit never cross. he trusts the members and their intentions but his relationship with them is too important to let a night of fun mess all of that up. but if you begged him for a threesome, like really begged, and strategized in a way that’d leave jongho with no more valid arguing points OR leave him with the feeling of not being enough for you, the one person he’d share you with is hongjoong. hj knows how to keep a secret, he can turn the switch off to separate his feelings, to realize when a situation his purely situational. he trusts hj with every bone in his body, he knows hj would take care of you, and if jongho never wanted to speak about it again he knows hj would never bring it up first.

what jongho has never realized because why would he is how versatile hongjoong is when it comes to sex. when jongho laid down the ground rules hongjoong was respectful, which was the most important thing to jongho, about yours and his boundaries— no kissing, no saying names, no cuddling, no spending the night. everything else was free game, though, and hongjoong took advantage of every unchecked box. it came down to worshipping you, and he was everywhere jongho wasn’t, you wondered if the two even realized the other was there. if jongho was inside you, hongjoong was feeling you up, fingers pressed to your clit, his other hand tweaking your nipples, whispering nasty shit in your ear. if jongho was kissing you he was behind you, licking and sucking down your back, his hands roaming every inch of untouched skin, praising you about how soft you are, how sweet you taste. jongho was pleasantly surprised, hongjoong slipped in like he’d done this a thousand times before, like your pleasure was all that mattered to him, and that was all jongho could ask for, aside from his rules. they totally never spoke about it again tho.

… least likely

masterlist

perm tags: @chimivx 😛

[caleignii]

Gamer!Caleb/Fan!Reader

mentions of: smut, fingering, pussy eating lol, p in v, possessive behavior, creampie, jealousy, cumming, breeding, masturbation, rough sex, orgasm, praising kink, sexual overstimulation, caleb is totally a pervert.

summary: as he came to your coffee shop one day, you never thought that you'll meet your favorite streamer caleb?!

a/n: LOLOLOL, OMG HAPPY JUNELEBBB. I've been lazy for almost twoo weeks WHAAAT??? UGHH idek what to do neext. This one is my longest fic so faarr so have fun readingg! Might post the part two of PossessiveMechanic!Caleb tomorrow lolll, stay tuned!!!

A soft ding was heard on your phone.

As you are currently in the kitchen looking for some snacks, you turned to check your phone. A “Mid night stream since y'all fav streamer had been busy from Cappleb” was shown on the notifications not long ago.

Since your favorite streamer, Caleb, or should we call him Cappleb, hasn't been online for nearly four days, you're thrilled and your excitement is visible on your face.

Before you knew his page, you were busy scrolling into Chrome, when the phone suddenly jumped on your hands landing towards your face.

His adorable face, which nearly looked like a puppy due to his eyes, was what drew your attention when you unintentionally clicked on a few tabs and found his page.

At first, you enjoyed watching him stream about his gaming activities. It was clear that he loved airplanes so much that he occasionally even makes replicas of little aircraft instead of his usual gaming streams. Some airplanes on a shelf that can be seen in his background were precisely aligned and appeared to have been well-maintained.

After you become comfy with him, as you haven't missed any of his streams, you began interacting with him in his comments by asking, "How are uuuuu??” or occasionally making remarks about how accurate and skilled he is when playing Valorant.

Feeling flustered when he notices your little comment, “Doin' pretty well angel, how 'boutcha?”

After awhile, you came to the position of one of his most top fans, and a badge next to your name that notifies him anytime you sign up for his streams. Sometimes if your wallet is feeling a bit too full, you'd send him some stars to fund his streams.

cutiaples [Top Fan 🍎]: sent 1000 stars! ⭐⭐⭐

“WHAT IN THE HOLY GYAAAAT! That's a lottt.” he stopped in his game to look in the comments.

cutiaples [Top Fan 🍎]: you've been playing nonstop for 4 hours, thought this would make u smile cute boy ;3

“Wait-wait-wait, my mind's still processing... Thank you so much baby!!!” you were stunned when he called you baby, blood immediately rising to your cheeks.

The look on his face is everything, slightly widened eyes, corner of his lips turning upwards, and the way he giggles. It made you feel like your stomach was moving around.

Right now, when you clicked on the notifications that directed you to his stream, you saw him wearing a black sweatshirt that fits him perfectly and headphones resting around his neck. You observed him as he is presently working on finishing his desktop so that his game may be seen.

You can't help but be impressed by his features, including his fluffy hair, the way his brows move unintentionally, and the way his Adams apple rises and falls with each swallow. The fact that he looks so good without even trying makes you blush.

The whole time you just watch him playing some silly game, laughing off when he does something funny.

Saying farewell to his viewers as he stopped his stream at around 4:00 AM, and you forgot that you still had work to do in the morning.

“Y'aaall don't miss me muuch! Bye-byeee!” his smile is clearly warming, along with his eyes that threaten to close in any second.

You were clearly sleep deprived after staying up all night, as evidenced by your drooping eyes and distracted thoughts. You have repeatedly tried blinking forcefully in the hopes that it might reduce your drowsiness, but it has didn't worked.

“A cup of large iced-americano and a slice of apple-pie, order coming up!” you came back to your senses hearing your manager's instruction.

As you brew the coffee yourself you can't help but to yawn.

“Didn't sleep much huh? Who kept you up all night? Wish that was me tho” your coworker Frank commented.

“None of your business, get back to work we aren't supposed to be chatting, do you want us to get scolded or what.” you shot him back clearly annoyed.

“Jeeezz calm down, here's the apple-pie by the way. Serve it to table fourteen.”

When you reached the designated table, dropping the tray onto the table to a man wearing a cap looking slightly suspicious by how cautious he is acting.

“Here's your large iced-americano along with an apple-pie lemme know if you need something else, enjoy your order!”

“Excuse me, Miss? I think there's something missing in my order.”

As you turn back, you can't help but feel a sense of familiarity against him.

“May I see your receipt please?” when he handed the slightly crumbled paper, you caught a glimpse of his face under the cap he was wearing.

CALEB!?

IS IT REALLY HIM?

“S-sure, it seems like the Lemon chiffon cake is missing. Let me get it for you right ahead” When you returned to the kitchen you tried to think of something else. What if he just looks like him? It'll be embarrassing if I straight up greet him, right?

“Im sorry for our mistake, here's your Lemon chiffon cake Sir. Is there anything else you need?”

“Nopee but thanks anyway!”

You swore share the same voice!

“Clean up table six!” as you came back to your senses you proceeded to go back working.

Following a long day, you were left to clear the final two tables. As you reached to pick it up, you noticed something gleaming beneath the table that definitely drew your attention. Someone appears to have dropped this wallet. A brown pocketbook with blue and orange accents on the edges, as well as the tiny apple charm that had been shining from the earlier sunlight.

You opened it to check for identification or documentation pertaining to the owner. When you opened it, there was $248 inside, along with a piece of lemon-flavored candy. Going on to eventually locate an ID.

Caleb Xia, 25 Years Old, Registered Pilot in the Deepspace Aviation Administration.

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest.

Caleb? It is him.

You stared at the ID, unable to look away. That soft smile in the picture, the same one you’d seen countless times during his streams, made everything click into place. Your hands trembled slightly as you clutched the wallet. What were the odds?

The wallet felt warm in your hands, still echoing traces of its owner.

Caleb.

Your breath caught when you saw his name—just a thin layer of leather and circumstance separating you from a person you’d admired for so long.

A streamer you watched religiously, heart fluttering at every “hey angel” typed to someone you assumed he'd never meet.

But now, he was here.

In your café.

Ordering lemon chiffon cake and smiling with those same crescent-moon eyes that used to light up your screen at 2 AM.

You didn’t say anything. How could you?

How could you tell him that the barista who brought his coffee was the same person who sent him stars with whispered admiration behind every coin?

That the girl wiping tables and yawning at dawn was the same voice that told him he was doing great mid-Valo match?

No.

You kept it to yourself.

You tucked his wallet safely into a sealed bag, placed it beneath the counter, and watched as the night slipped away like steam off hot coffee.

He came back the next morning, this time with his cap gone and a quiet confidence in his step.

“I think I left something behind,” he said.

You didn’t meet his eyes at first. You were afraid he’d see too much in yours.

“A brown wallet with a little apple charm, have you guys perhaps seen it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, retrieving it for him. “We held it for you. Thought you might come back.”

“Thanks,” he said, eyes soft with gratitude. “Would’ve been a disaster if I lost it.”

You handed it over, your fingers brushing for a moment. He smiled, and something in your chest lurched.

He started showing up more often after that.

Sometimes for the lemon chiffon. Sometimes for the espresso.

But after a while, you noticed—he didn’t even pretend to look at the menu anymore.

He came to talk.

"Rough night?" he'd ask, noticing your eye bags.

"Yeah, just… couldn’t sleep."

Couldn't? No, you wouldn't sleep cuz he was streaming til 3AM.

"You too, huh?"

He’d sit by the window while the sun stretched across the floor like golden thread. You’d steal glances while pouring milk, wiping counters, pretending not to notice how the light caught in his hair.

You learned things.

He loved planes—real ones.

Not just models. Not just flight sims. He had studied aviation since he was sixteen. He told you about his training, the nights he’d sleep under textbooks, the mornings he’d wake up with paper cuts and dreams of blue skies.

“I wanted to fly away from everything back then,” he admitted once, eyes far away.

You wanted to ask what he was flying from—but you didn’t. Some silences are more sacred than sound.

He became a part of the place. A low hum in your routine.

Sometimes you’d sit across from him after your shift, swapping stories over lukewarm pastries.

You'd tell him about your dream to study design, about how this café was only a stepping stone. He listened, chin in his hand, like every word you spoke mattered.

But still, he didn’t know.

Didn’t know that after your shifts, you raced home, slipped into your blanket cocoon, and waited for his stream to go live.

Didn’t know you still logged in as cutiaples, heart skipping when he read comments, even if they weren’t yours.

You were greedy for the version of him that was just yours, outside the glowing screen.

Then one night, it happened.

He mentioned you on stream.

“There’s this girl,” he said suddenly, eyes flicking nervously to the side of the camera. “She works at this café I go to. She's… cool. Funny. And she listens.”

The chat lit up instantly.

BabyzAyneee: OHHHH HE’S IN LOVE

ladsADICTS [Top Fan 🍎]: SHE BETTER NOT HURT U CAP

calebxsmuncherr: drop the @ drop the @ drop the @

He chuckled, rubbing his neck.

“I dunno. It’s weird. She has no idea who I am, which is kinda… nice.”

You froze.

He didn’t know.

Of course he didn’t.

You didn’t comment.

You didn’t even log in.

You just watched. Quietly.

Because he wasn’t talking to cutiaples anymore. He was talking about you.

The real you.

The one with frizzy hair after a twelve-hour shift. The one who spilled oat milk once on his sleeve. The one who laughed a little too hard at his dumb plane puns.

The next day, you found him waiting before your shift even started.

“Hey,” he said, holding something behind his back.

“What’s that?”

He revealed a small gift bag. “Don’t get excited, it’s dumb. But I found this apple that reminded me of you.”

You peeked inside.

Green apple.

You stared up at him, and in your chest, something cracked open.

“Do you believe in coincidences?” you asked softly.

He tilted his head. “Like... destiny wearing a fake mustache?”

You laughed, even though your heart was pounding.

“I have something to tell you,” you said.

And there, beneath the humming of espresso machines and clink of ceramic mugs, you told him.

“I know you” you blabbered.

You told him everything.

That you were cutiaples. That you’d been watching since before you met. That you were terrified of how real this all became.

He was quiet.

Then he smiled. Slowly. Softly. Like sunrise after a storm.

“No wonder your username felt... familiar.”

“You’re not mad?”

He shook his head. “Mad? No. Just kinda stunned.”

You both sat there, letting the world fall away.

Then he added, “So… my top fan’s the same girl I’ve been falling for. That’s kinda poetic, don’t you think?”

After bumping into each other again—this time intentionally, as he started frequenting the café “for the pie”—you exchanged numbers. Conversations grew from small talk into long, late-night texts. He’d occasionally send you a meme or a blurry pic of the model airplane he was working on with the caption:

“Don’t laugh at its nose 😤”

You’d tease him playfully and call him “Captain Puppyboy” just to fluster him. Eventually, he invited you to co-stream with him—just for fun. Nervous, you agreed.

The chat exploded when you appeared on stream beside him for the first time, cozy on his couch.

OrbitingYourHeart: cutiaples in the flesh???

GalaxyGf4Hire: WAIT THEY’RE SITTING SO CLOSE

Iwmiwmeow: SHIP CONFIRMED??

giDIEon [Top Fan 🍎]: IM JEALOUS BROOO

You both laughed it off, but neither of you denied anything.

As you both play, currently focused on delivering content in real time while managing interactions. Caleb noticed some comments.

frankieer: YOOOOOO, remember that time we almost dated? Wild days. Didn't know yer meeting w some guy now.

He read it aloud, which caused him to lose focus on the game. You, however, forced you to look at what he was reading.

“Who was that?” you paused the game.

“I dunno, i guess some random dude. D'you know him?”

“Lemme see... frankiee?? Frank? The hell are you saying?” the annoyance in your voice alarmed his mind.

“Who's that babe?” he automatically raises an eyebrow, as you've never mentioned someone naming 'Frank' before.

“He's my coworker, flirting with me at any chance he gets.” his head turned back to the screen as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Yeah right.” you couldn't tell the expression on his face,

He turned off his screen so fast, livestream off, tabs off, mic muted, everything, leaving the viewers dumbfounded and shocked.

“Baby—” you were interrupted when he abruptly jolted you into his arms and took you to your shared bedroom.

“Caleb, baby I swear that wasn't true. Please don't believe him. Babe I'm sorryyyy.” while he laid you down on the bed, attempting to coo him.

“You know that you're mine right?” as you nodded to his response.

“Then allow me to further claim you.” as he smashed his soft lips with yours, calloused fingers roaming around the curves of your body. Caleb lifted you up, legs wrapping around his waist.

The kiss went deeply, his fingers tangling in your hair. He could taste himself on your lips, could feel your breath against his skin.

He unclasped youe bra, his mouth capturing one nipple. He sucked and licked, his hand teasing the other. Your breathing quickened, hands tangling in his hair.

“Caleb I want more, please” as the heat in your inner thighs began throbbing.

“And who am I to decline? My pretty baby wants more hmmm?” smirk showing on his lips. “Yes, yes pleasee?”

Caleb complied, his other hand slipping under her skirt to find you wet and ready. He groaned as his fingers slipped inside, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in slow, circular motions.

Your hips bucked against his hand, breath coming in ragged gasps. "Caleb," you moaned, head falling back. "You feel so good."

Caleb's fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "You're so wet," he growled. "I can't wait to taste you."

As your eyes flew open, gaze locked onto Caleb's. "Yes," you breathed, voice filled with desperation. "Please."

Caleb withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them slowly. Eyes darkened with desire as you watched him, body aching for his touch.

Caleb leaned down, his mouth finding her wetness. He licked slowly, his tongue exploring every inch of your gummy walls. You gasped, hands fisting in his hair as you ground herself against his face.

"Oh God, Caleb," you moaned, hips moving in time with his tongue. "Right... ngghhh there, yes."

Caleb sucked on your clit, his fingers sliding back inside of you. Fingers moving in and out, his thumb pressing against your g-spot. Your body tensed, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Caleb," your cried out, orgasm crashing over like a wave. "Yes, yes, yes."

Caleb didn't stop, his mouth and fingers continuing to work until you were boneless and panting. He kissed his way back up to your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss.

When you wrapped your legs around him, hands working at his belt. "I want you inside me," you murmured against his lips.

He groaned, his cock hard and aching. As he pushed the skirt up, his fingers finding the wetness once again. He slipped two fingers inside, thumb rubbing your little button that has a bundle of nerves.

"You're ready for me," he growled, voice thick with desire. "You're so ready for my cock."

As you nodded, eyes locked onto his. "Yes, I am," you whispered. "Give it to me, Caleb."

Caleb withdrew his fingers, his cock taking their place. He pushed inside slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Haaaah... baby so biigg nghhh” nails digging into his back as you adjusted to his size.

“You feel so good,” Caleb murmured, his hips moving in slow, shallow thrusts.

”So tight and wet.”

You wrapped your legs around him tighter, hips moving in time with his. "Harder," you whispered, voice filled with desperation. "Fuck me harder, Caleb."

His hips moving faster, his cock slamming into your walls with force.

“Fuuuuckk” body moving in time with his.

"Yes, yes," you cried out, head falling back. "Right there, don't stop."

Caleb's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies slapping together, moans and groans echoing through the apartment.

"You feel so good," Caleb growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Your pussy is so tight around my cock."

His thrusts becoming faster, deeper. Your moans were louder now, body writhing beneath him. He could feel her getting closer, could feel her muscles tightening around him.

"Caleb," you gasped, "I'm close."

Your body is moving again, orgasm building once again. "Caleb," you cried out, body convulsing as you came. "Yes, yes, yes."

Caleb leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce kiss. He could feel her orgasm, could feel her body convulsing against his. He thrust into her a few more times before he came, his body shuddering with pleasure.

His hips slamming into yours. The bed creaked beneath them, bodies moving in perfect sync. "Fuck, yes," you cried, nails raking down Caleb's back.

Caleb's cock swelled inside you, his body tensing. "Baby ngggh," he groaned, his hips stuttering. You felt him pulse inside, his cock filling your pussy completely. Your own orgasm crashing over. Both of your bodies shook together, breaths ragged. When Caleb collapsed on top of fragile form, bodies slick with sweat.

Both lay together, bodies still joined. His cock softened inside, cum dripping out of your swelling cunt. You smiled, eyes locked on Caleb's. "Are you jellyy because of that??," you murmured. Caleb grinned, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Hmmmp!" he pouted, his voice soft. Both stayed like that for a while, bodies entwined, their hearts beating as one.

You were no longer just cutiaples, his top fan.

You were his favorite person.

In every timeline.

On every stream.

And in every quiet, ordinary moment in between.

[emacrow]

You have something that belongs to me.

The world was shaking within a void of Glowing Green as the Justice League was listening on what John was explaining that the Infinite King that supposedly is a Protector has been gone off the rails in straight panic for the past 4 months straight because something very life or very death Important was taken from him and he been on a rampaging hunt throughout the multiverses, literally tearing and reforming them as he went, as John described the tip from Deadman.

Unfortunately, what was important to the Infinite King is on this earth. John immediately cut off Bruce as trying to fight him all together even with Superman that Infinite King would easily squish Superman like a mosquito with only just a tiny breath.

Just let the Infinite King find what he is looking for and pray that it is safely unharmed so we may survive afterward.

That was 3 hours ago after Batman went back to gotham, as Batman stared in horror of a larger then Life elderitch being had both of his arms deep in Jason's chest.

"You have something that belongs to me." The Infinite King hissed.

Just hearing the hitched Gasp in Jason's voice was reeling in the terrible flashback of that night that triggered his fight instinct, only for the very shadows seemingly holding him back by literally force.

Only for the Infinite King to pull out a tiny lararus Pit coated goopey naked 4 year old girl sobbing out daddy with her arms stretched out, doing tiny gimme hands toward the king.

"Oh Ellen..."

Jason's body was seemingly unharmed, beside the raspy breathing that was slowly developing into a hyperventilating hysteria after being chased like a hunted rabbit from a savage starving wolf for three hours straight by this elderitch being in Crime Ally.

The Large humaniod Elderitch being with several glowing green eyes that was a nightmare fuel, mixes together with stars, galaxies, and secrets untold slowly shrank more and more becoming more human in a gruesome fascinating way that would Haunt Bruce's nightmares for years to come.

the Infinite King was now a Teenager with glowing white hair defying gravity, tanned star coated skin, large teaey icy blue eyes in a black winter suit with a DP symbol delicate, holding the whimpering little goopey girl close to his chest, covering her with a star covered cape now blanket as he kissed her forehead looking at Jason.

"Jason Peter Todd, I am sincerely thank you for letting my daughter possess your core after she accidentally went off on her own and accidentally dipped into the deep end up Tainted Ecto portals. Your core will be healing in a few months after Ellen had kept using yours to save her own destabilizing."

"I must go now before she began to destabilize more, but here is my contact ritual." The infinite King disappeared into a clearer glowing green lararus Pit portal after a good bow, leaving behind a note on Jason's lap.

The coms were suddenly back on as Tim's voice could be heard.

"So the reason why Jason was all Trigger gun happy was cause he was accidentally pregnant with the infinite king's daughter?"

[bratbby333]

i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 

“What is it?” your coworker asked. 

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 4

In which you escape to paradise with the love of your life.

Warnings: nothing unless you hate happiness. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - Master List

Phulay Bay, Thailand July, 2025

yourpersonalinsta posted

456,938 likes liked by taylorswift, redbullracing, alexandrasaintmleux, and others. yourpersonalinsta out of office tagged: maxverstappen1 kikagomes omg where are yoooou? >>>yourpersonalinsta thailand! he planned literally everything. all i had to do was show up. user928 max is never beating best boyfie on the grid allegations now redbullracing bring us back a coconut! >>>yourpersonalinsta hahahaha think max can smuggle one out in his backpack??? >>>redbullracing if he tries hard enough, he can do anything!

"Max, where'd you go?" You call, voice echoing out over the empty terrace of the beach villa Max had booked for you two during F1's summer break.

Last year, the two of you had spent a few weeks on a boat off of the Amalfi coast with some of your friends but this year, it was just the two of you. This entire trip had been a complete surprise, Max having planned the entire thing. You had gotten a text one afternoon just a few days into the month long F1 break from Max telling you to pack a bag (heavy on the bikinis and lingerie, as personally requested by your boyfriend) and to be ready to leave the apartment in Monaco in an hour.

You had bustled about, a mix of excitement and anxiety twisting in your chest. To be quite honest, you had been looking forward to having some down time at home, just the two of you. It had only been a few months since you had permanently moved from New York to Monaco and you were far from settled, having spent most of the first half of the year traveling with Max.

The moment Max burst into your shared apartment though, all of your anxieties evaporated into thin air. He had never looked more relaxed than he had that morning, telling you he was taking you on a trip and to not ask any questions. You, of course, dutifully obeyed.

Which was how you found yourself at one of the most private and romantic beach resorts in Thailand, currently looking for your seemingly missing boyfriend. You'd been here for a few days now, soaking in the sand and sun and quiet peacefulness the resort had to offer. Mornings were spent slowly in bed, breakfast often skipped in favor of time spent underneath (or on top of) Max. Afternoons scuttled by slowly, spent under the sun on the beach in your bikini being oogled by Max. And nights were spent together, either in the media room of the villa watching movies or under the stars talking about anything and everything with the man that had completely stolen your heart.

It was in those quiet moments, while you sat snuggled up between Max's legs, back pressed firmly into his chest, on the beach where you were in awe of how much your life had changed in a little over a year. How quickly Max had swooped into you life, into your heart, and never left.

The villa is quiet and empty, you assume that Max has wandered down onto the beach or out near the private pool while you had taken a quick shower before your dinner reservations. Something on the bed catches your eye though and you cross the wooden planked floor to read the note that sits on top of a white linen dress.

My love, I know we had reservations at the resort's resturant tonight but I took the liberty of moving that to some place a little quieter. Put on the dress and meet me out on that little bluff where we always watch the sunset, dinner is waiting. all of the love my soul possesses, Max

Tears prick at your eyes when you finish the note. Laying on the bed is a white linen dress that you had no idea was even in the villa. It's brand new, you'd never even seen it before. The moment you pull it on over your head, you can't help but be impressed. It fits like a dream and when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but smile. The dress is cut perfectly to your figure, the neckline scooping down low to show off an extra bit of clevege and the hem hitting just below your knee. You're not quite sure how Max did it, but the dress fits you like a glove.

Your hair is still a bit damp, but you're eager to find where Max is and what he's up to tonight so you opt for a long braid down your back.

When you step out on the back veranda of the villa, the sun is hanging low in the sky, just above the sparkling blue water that stretches out in front of you. The resort sits on a little bluff overlooking the ocean, romantically tucked into the side of rolling green hills and a lush forest behind you.

Just beyond the edge of the villa's back yard is a little outcropping of land that juts over the beach below. Every night since you had arrived, Max had insisted on making a point to sit on this little private bluff and watch the sun go down. No matter what you were doing or what you had planned that evening, watching the sunset tucked deeply in Max's arms, became a tradition you wanted to continue forever.

The cool grass tickles your bare feet as you cross the lush green lawn. For a moment, you don't even look towards where you know Max is standing because you're so distracted by the crash of the ocean waves and glimmer of the sunset on the water. When you do look over though, you stop in your tracks, pupils blowing wide at the scene before you.

There, right on your little plot of paradise, stands your boyfriend. He's surrounded by what looks like hundreds and hundreds of white hydrangeas arranged in a large circle. Clusters of candles dot the edge of the circle casting a soft glow over the entire scene.

Max stands in the middle of all of this, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He's wearing the navy linen shirt you bought him for his birthday last year, top few buttons undone at his throat. The breeze off the water tugs a bit at his hair, long from a busy season with little time to stop and get a haircut. The fact that you liked his hair longer also had a lot to do with him refusing to cut it lately, but he'd never admit that to anyone but you.

When Max sees you walk out of the villa for the firs time, he thinks he might just pass out right there. The dress Kika and Alexandra had helped him pick out was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen you wear, besides that navy and red lacy lingerie set you had worn for his birthday last year, of course. He had been planning this for months now, much to Daniel and Lando's surprise. His two friends were the only other people who knew what this entire trip was really about. They had expressed their surprise at the plans since you hadn't even celebrated your one year anniversary when he had set all of this in motion. Max had simply replied with 'when you know you know' and no one had questioned it again.

The red and gold ring box sits heavy in his pocket, his fingers tracing anxious patterns over it's smooth surface. He wasn't nervous about what he was going to do. No, what he was about to do was the most confident and self assured decisions he had ever made. What he was nervous about was you saying no. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to take a rejection.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach Max. Unsure but confident about what's about to happen all at the same time. The conflicting emotions whirl around in your stomach in a hurricane of anxiety and shock.

"Hi baby." Max murmurs as soon as you step into the circle with him. His arms reach for you and to his great relief, you melt into him eagerly.

"Hi." Your voice nothing but breathy whisper. A smile that could power most of Europe shimmers across your face. "What's all this?"

"I know I said we were going to eat dinner out here, but I wanted to talk to you first." Max buries his head in your hair, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent of your shampoo, still lingering in your hair after your shower.

He takes a few moments and you are simply content to enjoy the feeling that settles over you. Outside of this little bluff, nothing else exists and you could stay here for the rest of your life and be completely content.

When Max pulls himself together, he pulls back a little so he can see you without craning his neck. "The moment you smiled at me the first time, my entire world shifted beneath my feet." His voice is rough, Dutch accent becoming more prominent the more emotional he gets. "The first time I kissed you in my drivers room in Miami, I knew I was done. I have never met a kinder, more ambitious, or more confident woman than you. Just being able to exist in your orbit has been the blessing I never knew I needed. I know it hasn't been long but I can't figure out how I ever managed to exist before you and I never want to find out what it feels like to exist after you."

Max pauses then, drawing in a shaky breath. Blood rushes past your ears as your knees threaten to buckle. You had hoped this day would come for you and Max but you had never expected it to be so quickly. Like Max, you had known pretty fast that he was it for you. You had tried to fight the growing feeling that your relationship could work its way into marriage but as you continued to settle further into life with him, you fought the feeling less and less.

He sinks to his knee then and looks up at you, those ice blue eyes that you dream about shining up at you. "I want to see you walk down the aisle towards me in a white dress. I want to see your belly grow when you carry our babies. I want to hear my children call you their mama and I want your babies to call me daddy. I want all of this and an entire lifetime of love with you and only you. Will you give me that, baby? Will you marry me?"

For a moment you're completely unable to breathe. The words Max said to you etched themselves onto your bones, words you'd never forget until your dying day. They were words that were to be written down. Words that your grandchildren would cry over one day when they stumbled upon your old journals in the attic.

Those kinds of things, those words, deserved to live in the universe alone for a bit, they're so powerful. You gave them space and respect, allowing what Max had said to you wash over your body.

"Oh my God. Of course. Yes. Please." You babble, really unable to make your mouth move in the way you want it. All you know is that you had never been so certain about anything in your entire existence.

Max slips the massive rock onto your finger before standing up to his full height. The diamond that winks up at you in dim candlelight is something that could be compared to the iceberg that sunk the titanic. Once the ring is secured on your hand, tonight's second perfect fit, Max catches your chin in his fingers to tip your head up towards him. When he kisses you, lips meeting yours so achingly tender, the entire world goes quiet. Everyone who could have possibly existed simply vanishes.

You stay like that for several moments, caught up in your boyfri- no, not boyfriend, fiance's arms and simply kiss him with every ounce of love you can wring out of your soul. His tongue licks into your mouth, eliciting a kitten like mewl of pleasure from the back of your throat. It's a sweet and tender kiss, soft and celebratory after what's just occurred.

"I love you." You say against his lips when you need a moment to breathe.

"I love you too. More than life, lifeje." Max's hand comes up to frame the side of your face, rubbing his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.

All you can do is stare up at him, pupils blown wide open. "How long have you been planning this? I can't believe you did all this...for me? Just for me?" For someone who has often gone unseen in their own family, being doted on like Max does is sometimes confusing.

"Months. I've had help. Danny and Lando helped decide where and how to do this." You can't help but chuckle at the thought of Daniel and Lando, two of Max's most unserious and unmarried friends, helping him plan a proposal.

"Alexandra and Kika too. They helped with the dress."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Those two bitches knew and didn't tell me!"

Max tilts his head back and laughs heartily. The sound sends a zing down your spine. "No, although I suspect they might have figured it out. I just told them I was taking you on a surprise date and needed help with an outfit."

"And of course I did all of this for you." Max continues, face turning serious. "I did this all for you because I wanted you to know how important you are to me. How much I need you in my life. You're my everything, baby."

Emotion clogs your throat as you fight to keep the tears from falling. "I can't wait to be your wife, Maxie."

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,293,938 likes liked by kikagomes, yourdad, danielricciardo, and others. yourpersonalinsta girlfriend < fiancé 💍 kikagomes ahhhhhhh congratulations pretty girl!!! you are going to make the most beautiful bride. WAIT OMG, is this why Max had Alex and I help buy that dress????? >>>yourpersonalinsta yes 🤭 love you kiks >>>user928 i'm sorry but am i reading this right? max had alex and kika help buy the dress that he had her wear to her own engagement. idk if i'll ever recover from this. user02938 MOM AND DAD ARE GETTING MARRIED landonorris glad he finally did it so i can stop hearing about how excited he is. >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too, lando >>>landonorris ❤️ maxverstappen1 can't wait to start calling you mrs. verstappen >>>user0283 i cannot be normal about this >>>user0029 i have no one to send this too redbullracing our favorite couple together forever!!! congrats you two (liked by author and maxverstappen1)

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley

[pixeld0ll]

Tear you apart

pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 (coming soon!)

tags: NSFW, MDNI, ryomen sukuna, sukuna x reader, sukuna smut, jujutsu kaisen smut, sukuna fanfiction, jujutsu kaisen x reader, dark content, dark romance, nsfw fanfic, possessive sukuna, masochistic reader, degradation kink, sadism and masochism, size kink, rough sex, aftercare, marking kink, carving kink, curse!sukuna, sukuna's domain, bratty reader, power dynamics, worship kink, dubcon elements, twisted romance, jujutsu kaisen fanfic, jjk x reader, sukuna x you, smut fic, yandere vibes, obsessed sukuna, cursed bond, forbidden love

an: HIIII this is my first fic in like 4 years so please bear with me!! huge huge shoutout to @cinnamorollcrybaby for inspiring me to start writing again, ur the bomb.com <3 i hope u all enjoy!!

words: 4.8k

It’s your third year at Jujutsu High, and the urge to summon Sukuna gnaws at you day and night. Ever since you first heard about the King of Curses, a part of you has been… intrigued by the four-armed, two-faced legend.

You still remember the day Maki told you about him, after teasing you for knowing so little about the world of curses. Your face flushed in embarrassment as you grabbed a strand of your hair, twisting it in your fingers—a nervous habit.

“Alright, newbie,” Maki had said, her face shifting to something more serious. “Ryomen Sukuna is known as ‘The King of Curses.’ According to dumbass Gojo, he looks mostly human—aside from having four arms, two faces, two sets of eyes. Fucking—seven feet tall or something like that.” She paused, picking up her cursed tool to sharpen it.

“He ruled in the Heian era, like, a thousand years ago. He’s the definition of pure evil. Killed thousands—maybe millions. No one fully understands his technique. He could rival Gojo, honestly.”

Your eyes had gone wide. How had no one ever told you this?

“Eventually, they defeated him—or sealed him or whatever. The story gets fuzzy,” Maki continued, placing her blade down and removing her glasses to clean them with the hem of her shirt.

“His twenty fingers were cut off and scattered. Jujutsu High has a few. Some are used to attract cursed spirits, and of course, some are in the hands of curses themselves.”

You swallowed hard, trying to picture Sukuna in your mind. Would he be grotesque, like the curses you fought on missions? Or would his ‘human’ form make him... a little sexy?

You couldn't lie—seven feet tall made your ears perk.

What the hell? You shook your head. You can’t be thinking like that. A sorcerer shouldn’t wonder if a curse is hot. They’re curses. They must be exorcised.

“…Is it possible for him to come back?” you asked quietly, half-hoping the answer was yes.

“Oh yeah,” Maki said, and your eyes widened further. You weren’t expecting that. She chuckled at your expression. “You’re cute. Your first time fighting a special grade’s gonna be fun. But yeah—two ways Sukuna could come back. First, someone eats his fingers—becomes his vessel. The second? You don’t summon him exactly—you enter his domain. Not sure how that would work, or if it even can. I mean, who the hell would wanna find out?”

You laughed softly with her, opening your mouth to ask more—but were interrupted.

“Maki! Y/N!” Panda called from the top of the staircase. “Come inside! Gojo’s got a mission debrief!”

You and Maki exchanged a glance before standing and heading toward the large cursed corpse that awaited you. But your mind swirled with questions. You made a mental note to check the library after the mission—to learn more about him.

That obsession never left.

It grew. Festered. You tried to ignore it, to suppress the dirty impulses and morbid curiosity—but one day, it became too much. You gave in. Hours turned into weeks, scouring books, blogs, and old scrolls. Your room became a shrine of obsession—papers, texts, ancient diagrams… even a blog written by someone who claimed to have contacted Sukuna before. They said the summoning didn’t fully work, but symbols appeared, questions were answered, and something watched them.

And now… here you are.

Three years later.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm, surrounded by red candles and ancient Heian-era symbols scrawled in your own blood. It hurt to collect—but the pain was nothing compared to the hunger to see him. To know him.

It’s well past midnight—close to 2 a.m.—and you've cast a veil to prevent any sorcerers from detecting your energy. You take a shaky breath, reach for the wooden box, and slowly open it. Inside rests a talisman-wrapped finger—one of his.

You bite your lip as you begin unwrapping the paper, whispering the chant you painstakingly pieced together from hundreds of texts:

"I seek the gate carved in sinew and stone, Where curse-born kings reign from bloodied throne. Let flesh wither, let truth distort, I step where the living hold no court."

"With eyes unblinking and heart laid bare, I cross the threshold—if I dare. By tooth, by nail, by cursed design, I enter the Shrine where Sukuna lies."

"Ryomen Sukuna, let the veil be torn. May my soul walk where gods are shorn."

"Open the gate. I offer my name."

"And enter now your cursed domain."

You place the unwrapped finger into a circle of blood and whisper your name into the dark.

Nothing happens.

Minutes pass.

Your eyes flutter open, disappointment filling your chest. Of course it didn’t work.

“I can’t believe I thought this would—”

Suddenly, a wave of nausea slams into you. The room spins. You stumble forward—but instead of grabbing your bedpost, your hand meets something horrifying: a pile of skulls. A river of thick, dark-red liquid flows beneath you.

You scream and jump back, hands clamping over your mouth.

“You dare to enter my domain,” a deep voice growls behind you, “and shriek like a brat—nearly louder than the thousands I’ve sliced in three. Bow before me, insolent fool… or I’ll do the same to you.”

You freeze. Your heart races as you slowly turn, legs trembling.

A figure looms behind a towering column, hidden mostly in shadow.

Four arms. More than seven feet tall. Colossal.

It’s him.

Your breath catches.

You remember something from that blog: Sukuna enjoys disobedience. Your survival instincts scream to kneel, to beg. But a darker part of you whispers: Keep going.

“…And what if I don’t?” you call out.

He steps forward, slow and deliberate, letting the blood-red light reveal his face.

“If you refuse,” he says with a sinister grin, “I’ll break your limbs, tear you apart, and feast on what’s left of your pitiful little body.”

He stands over you now, red eyes gleaming, drinking you in. His voice is cruel—yet somehow intoxicating.

“Don’t even think about running, little human. You’re nothing. A bug. A speck waiting to be crushed.” He leans in, towering above you. “So tell me—will you obey your king?”

You scan his body—your question from three years ago answered in full. Is he sexy? Hell yes.

Towering, muscled, with four arms that could break you in two. His robe clings just enough to reveal the outline of his powerful chest and abs. Four crimson eyes burn into you with heat and hunger.

You suppress every rational thought.

“I never said I wanted to run,” you whisper, locking eyes with him.

His brow raises, amused. “Oh? You have guts, insolent little thing.”

He steps forward again—closer now. So close his heat radiates against your skin. He leans down, lips nearly brushing your ear.

“You’re not afraid of me, eh?”

You gulp, trying not to tremble. “What if… what if I said I am afraid?” You look up. “And what if I said… I like that I’m afraid?”

He freezes for a moment—then smirks. A devilish, dangerous grin.

“Oh really?” he murmurs, voice low and sinful. “You like being afraid of me?”

You bite your lip, breath hitching. His massive body makes your knees weak. You stumble slightly, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself.

He growls at the touch.

“So what if I do?” you breathe, looking up at him through long lashes.

You step onto your toes, rising to meet his face. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Sukuna lets out a low, guttural chuckle—one that vibrates through the stone walls of his domain and sends a tremor down your spine.

“What am I going to do?” he repeats mockingly, his voice silk and poison wrapped into one. “You come crawling into my domain, bleeding for me, begging for my attention... and now you ask me what I’m going to do?”

His four hands move at once—two clasp behind his back again, composed and regal, while the others reach out. One wraps around your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes, while the second hand trails slowly down your side, ghosting over your waist as if memorizing the shape of you.

“I could tear your soul apart and scatter it across the cursed realm,” he purrs, leaning close enough that you can feel the chill of his breath. “Or—” his eyes flicker, pupils thinning like a predator’s, “—I could reward your... dedication.”

His thumb strokes your lower lip, pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. His eyes scan your face like he's searching for the slightest twitch of fear, the tiniest crack in your bravado.

“You’ve been watching me. Studying me. Craving me.” His voice dips lower with each word. “Why?” It isn’t a request. It’s a command.

You swallow hard, feeling your heart thudding against your ribcage like a drum of war. You should lie. You should apologize. But the part of you that brought you here, that carved your own blood into summoning circles, speaks louder.

“I wanted to see if the stories were true,” you whisper, breathless. “If a curse could be beautiful. If danger could be divine.”

His smirk curves into something more dangerous, more unhinged.

“You think I’m beautiful?” he says with mock surprise. “How quaint. Humans and their need to romanticize their own destruction.”

Then, in one swift movement, he steps even closer. You’re practically caged now—his enormous frame casting a shadow over you, the air around him thick and humming with power.

“Let’s see if your devotion is more than words,” he growls. “Prove it.”

Your lips part, the words stuck in your throat. “How—”

“You summoned me,” he interrupts. “Now submit.”

One of his hands lifts, tracing a symbol in the air that glows briefly before disappearing. You feel your knees weaken again—not from fear this time, but from the raw, oppressive aura that crashes over you like a wave. It's overwhelming, like gravity has tripled in an instant. You nearly collapse again, but his hand steadies you by your hip.

He leans in, his voice a whisper against your skin:

“Worship your king.”

He watches you tremble, your breath shallow, your thighs pressed tight. Your silence only fuels the hunger in his eyes.

Then he angles down, lips grazing the shell of your ear, voice low, guttural, and cruelly sweet:

“God, you’re so fucking pathetic.”

You inhale sharply, body going still.

“Transporting yourself into my domain just to be used,” he growls. “You wanted this. Came crawling into the lion’s den just to be ruined, didn’t you?”

One of his hands snakes behind your neck, yanking you closer until your chest presses against his rock-solid torso. His other hand slides slowly, deliberately down your body—past your waist, to your hip, fingers flexing possessively.

“You want me to destroy you from the inside out. You want to be wrecked so badly that no other man will ever satisfy you again.”

His voice dips darker, each word dripping with venomous promise.

“You want to be fucked so hard you forget your name—but not mine. No. The only name you’ll ever remember is mine.”

He yanks your head back slightly to make you meet his eyes. All four of them burn with sadistic glee.

“Ryomen Sukuna. Say it.”

You do. Weakly. Breathless.

He chuckles.

“You want me to defile you—mark you so deeply you bleed my name. I’ll give it to you. I’ll ruin you.”

He leans in until your lips almost touch, his breath hot against your skin.

“I’ll fuck you until your voice breaks, until you’re sobbing, a drooling, trembling mess who can’t even beg properly. I’ll make you scream. I’ll make you bleed. I’ll own you.”

His hand tightens at your throat—not choking, but enough to make your head spin deliciously.

“When I’m done with you,” he snarls, “you’ll be nothing but flesh. A whimpering, broken toy that exists to please me. You’ll crave my touch like a curse.”

His thumb presses against your bottom lip, forcing it down.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod, barely able to breathe. Every part of you burns—fear, desire, the overwhelming thrill of submission.

“Yeah,” he hisses, grinning like the devil himself. “You would. You dirty, desperate little slut.”

He tilts his head, mock sympathy in his voice.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s worth it. You’ll forget everything you were. Everything you wanted. The only word you’ll know...”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours—barely.

“...is my name.”

Your breath stutters as his thumb slides down your chin, dragging it open until your lips part with a soft gasp. Sukuna hums, a low, vibrating sound in his throat that’s equal parts cruel and amused.

“So easy to break,” he murmurs, eyes devouring your expression. “And you want it. You want to be reduced to a whimpering little pet in my grasp. Filthy.”

His hand leaves your throat—just long enough to trail down your side, the weight of it scorching through your clothes like a brand. Four hands. Four points of contact. You barely register where he’s touching anymore, only that you're utterly surrounded by him. Caged.

“You’re trembling.” His voice is soft now. Dangerous. A hiss laced with anticipation. “Not from fear. Not entirely.”

You try to speak, but no words come. Sukuna notices. He always notices.

“Look at you,” he grins. “On the edge of reason. You’ve thought about this, haven’t you? For years. Dreamed of what I’d do to you. What it would feel like when I finally touched you.”

One hand grabs your jaw again, forcing you to meet his gaze. All four eyes bore into yours—two mocking, two ravenous.

“Thats right, I was aware every time you thought about me. I saw those dirty little fantasies late at night. Now you’re here. And I’m real. And I promise you this—when I’m done, you won’t want to go back.”

Your knees threaten to give out. His body is so close. Heat rolls off of him like steam from a fresh kill. You can smell the iron in the air, the faintest metallic tang of blood soaked into the stones beneath you. His domain is alive, pulsing—watching.

He steps closer still, and his lips hover a breath away from yours.

“You summoned me,” he whispers darkly. “You walked willingly into the lion’s jaws.”

He leans down, mouth brushing the corner of yours, just enough to make your head spin.

“Now beg,” he growls. “Beg to be devoured.”

And just as his mouth descends toward yours in a twisted parody of a kiss, the world around you goes darker—red lightning crackling through the shadows like veins, the temple stone beneath your feet pulsing with cursed energy. The air thickens, pressing against your skin like a second body. The veil between power and pleasure snaps taut.

Everything is trembling on the edge.

The moment before the storm.

The exact place you’d wanted to be.

You kiss him back with equal ferocity, matching his hunger beat for beat. His lower hands make quick work of your oversized t-shirt, claws slicing through the fabric like it’s nothing more than paper. The sudden tear and the rush of cool air against your bare skin draw a gasp from your lips—but he doesn’t waste the opportunity. His tongue slips into your mouth, skilled and unrelenting, claiming every inch as if he owns it. Which, in this moment, he does.

A helpless whimper escapes you, and the sound earns a guttural, possessive growl from deep in his chest. His upper hands find your breasts, easily engulfing them—his fingers rough, greedy, squeezing with a pressure that borders on painful. You arch into his touch even as you flinch, the sensation overwhelming in the most intoxicating way.

He breaks the kiss only to trail his mouth down the column of your throat, licking and biting with the same cruel precision he likely used to kill a thousand men. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot, you moan, voice hitching—and the smirk that spreads across his lips against your skin is unmistakable. He’s found your weakness, and now he plans to exploit it.

Without warning, sharp pain rips through your neck as his fangs sink into your flesh. Your eyes roll back, the coppery tang of your blood mixing with the heat of his breath. You cry out, instinctively reaching for him, fingers tangling in his hair in a desperate attempt to pull him away.

But Sukuna is far from done.

He growls again, grabbing both your wrists in one hand and forcing them behind your back with humiliating ease. The other hand holds you in place by the waist, and he laps at the blood trailing from your wound, his tongue slow and deliberate. Worshipful, in a twisted, terrifying way.

He doesn’t stop. He dives back in, sucking, biting, marking you over and over until your neck blossoms in deep reds and violent purples. A crown of bruises worn only by the damned.

You’re trembling now, not from fear—but from the unbearable rush of it all.

And Sukuna? He’s only just begun.

He reaches one of his lower hands between your thighs, brushing aside your pajama shorts with an effortless motion. With a flick of his wrist, he hooks a finger into the waistband of both your shorts and panties, tearing them apart like wet paper. The sound of fabric ripping echoes in the chamber, followed by the soft whisper of cloth hitting bone as your clothing falls to the ground in tatters.

With his other lower arm, he lifts you like you're weightless, hands gripping your waist with practiced strength—rough, yet with a frightening kind of care. Like a predator who doesn’t want to break the prey until the right moment. As he ascends the pile of skulls, you instinctively avoid looking down, unwilling to think about who they once were. You focus instead on him—on the sensation of his body pressed to yours, on the terrifying comfort of his grip.

His lips never leave your neck. His fangs, already stained with your blood, drag against your skin in a cruel promise. Your neck, once smooth, now blooms with dark marks—bruises, welts, cuts—a living canvas of his possession.

A sudden wave of shame crashes over you as the reality of what you’re doing sinks in. What would your fellow Jujutsu sorcerers think if they saw you like this? Marked by a curse—the curse. You feel the weight of your choices bearing down.

He feels it too.

Without a word, he hurls you onto his throne—a towering, jagged seat of bone and twisted steel, as brutal and imposing as its master. You hit the seat with a thud, breath stolen from your lungs, your body trembling with a mix of fear, guilt, and something darker.

A strong hand seizes your chin, tilting your face upward. You look into four burning eyes, full of scorn and amusement.

“Tch. Look at you,” he mutters. “Trembling like a leaf, after crawling into my domain on your own. I don’t let just anyone in here, you know.” His other hand cracks against your cheek with a sharp slap, the sting blooming instantly across your skin. “Well you're in luck. I've always wanted to defile a jujutsu sorcerer. Its just my luck a fucked up pretty little whore dropped in my lap.”

Tears spring to your eyes, not just from pain, but from the shame curling deep in your stomach.

“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “Three years you spent digging into my legacy. Feeding your obsession. And here you are—just another filthy human slut desperate to be touched by something monstrous.”

He cages you in, all four arms braced on either side of you, his massive form casting you in shadow. You feel like prey. Trapped. Hunted. Your heart races.

“I can smell it, you know—the guilt,” he sneers. “But I can also smell the truth underneath it.”

He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear.

“You want them to know. All those little sorcerers you call friends—you want them to see the marks I leave on you. You want them to know who you belong to now. Don’t you, little whore?”

You freeze. The thought had crossed your mind once. Maybe more than once. But hearing it said aloud—so crudely, so accurately—makes your throat tighten.

“I asked you a question, whore.” His voice sharpens. “When your king speaks, you answer.”

You gulp, nodding.

He growls softly. “Ah, no. Not enough. I want words, not whimpers. So mouthy before, and now you cant even get a coherent sentence out. I havent even fucked you yet, how pathetic.

You look up into his eyes—terrified and trembling, but unable to lie to yourself anymore.

“Yes,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Yes… I want them to know I’m yours.”

He smiles—a twisted, triumphant expression that sends a chill down your spine.

“Good girl,” he says, lips curling back to bare his fangs. “Because from this moment on, you are.”

Suddenly, his grip tightens, and before you can process what’s happening, you feel a rush of pressure between your thighs — not one, not two, but three of his massive fingers drive into you without warning. The sudden stretch steals the breath from your lungs.

“You want it, do you?” His voice is a low growl, vibrating through your chest like thunder. “Then beg, pet. Beg for your king.”

Your words crumble into gasped half-sentences, muffled moans, and desperate little pleas as your body writhes helplessly in his hold, trying to match his rhythm. Every curl of his fingers makes your vision blur, the relentless pace driving you higher, faster.

“Oh, you can do better than that.” His voice darkens, almost mocking. “Beg for your king like the filthy little whore you are. Say it. Show me.”

His thumb finds your clit, pressing in tight circles that send shocks up your spine. Your back arches against him, mouth falling open with a sobbing moan.

“F-Fuck, please,” you choke out, barely coherent. “Please—please, I need it—need you—Sukuna, please—”

The moment his name falls from your lips, everything changes. He lets out a feral noise that’s somewhere between a snarl and a groan, and before you can even mourn the loss of his fingers, he buries his dick deep inside you with a savage thrust.

You cry out, not just from the stretch, but from the overwhelming sensation that follows — the heat, the fullness, the way your body clenches around him like it was made for this. Made for him.

His breath stutters against your skin. “Tight little thing,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You feel that, don’t you? How you fit around me so perfectly. It’s like you were always meant to be mine. God, you can fucking see my dick in your stomach.” he groans out. Its been so long since hed taken anyone like this; and though he’d never admit it to you, you’re the best pussy he’s ever had. 

You don’t even have time to answer. Your body moves on instinct, spasming around him as your climax hits you in a sudden, overwhelming wave. He holds you steady, one arm wrapping around your waist like a steel band, the other gripping your thigh as he starts to move — deep, slow, brutal.

“Already?” He chuckles darkly. “You must be a virgin Cumming so quickly… How precious.”

He leans forward, forcing you to meet his eyes — those four blazing orbs searing into your soul. “Look at you. Wrecked, ruined, and I’ve barely even started.”

One of his hands slides up, fingers wrapping around your throat — squeezing slightly to constrict your breathing slightly. “You’re mine now,” he says, tone calm but laced with threat. “Every breath you take. Every sound you make. Every time someone even thinks of touching you, they’ll see me in your eyes.”

You can barely think, barely speak, every nerve set alight as he starts to move again — unrelenting and commanding. All that’s left is the sound of your whimpers, the heat of his breath on your skin, and the terrifying, intoxicating truth:

You don’t want to be anywhere else.

“Mmf- s-sukuna-” you moan out, knees falling open as you completely submit, showing just how much he can use you. “Mm… let you do anything..” 

He stops his momentum immediately, making you actually tear up, missing his dick pressing against your cervix, hitting the right spots every time. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” his eyes flash, sadistic smirk forming across his face. One of his hands grips your chin harshly, and he spits, spits, in your face. “Say. that. Again.” 

You gasp, his saliva trailing down your cheek. You gulp before responding quietly. “I’d let you do anything you want to me.” your voice is slurred with pleasure slightly, and you swear his eyes glow red when the words leave your lips. 

He drops your chin and shoves you down, hooking your legs around his waist. 

“You innocent, little thing. You have no idea what you’ve done.” he purrs in your ear. 

“I’m going to fucking tear you apart.” 

Suddenly his mouth is on your breasts, biting and sucking, and he resumes his cruel thrusting pace, making you scream out in surprise. He grabs a nipple into his mouth, biting down on the taut bud just enough to send jolts of pain and pleasure through your body. His hand grips your other breast, rolling your the nipple between his large fingers and pinching. 

He looks up at you, mouth still moving on your breasts, and he actually has to close his eyes to keep himself from cumming. 

Your head is lolled to the side, eyes dazed and rolled back. You’re flushed and sweaty, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth open as actual drool dribbles out. 

His marks completely cover your body, and he absolutely knows there is no way of covering them up. You look like you're in pure ecstasy, and he engranes the image in his mind to use at a later date. 

Another orgasm pours over you, and Sukuna lets out an animalistic growl as you squeeze around his dick. 

“Fuck- tightest little cunt- god, I can’t wait to fucking fill you up.” 

You moan at his words, and he continues fucking into you roughly, finally releasing your neck as finger-shaped bruises begin to form. He holds your hips down, bringing another hand to your clit, flicking at rubbing it harshly.  

A third orgasm crashes over you, catching even you off guard. Sukuna barks out a yell, sinking his teeth back into your neck as he makes four deep thrusts, your constricting walls finally breaking him. He growls and falls against you, spurting load after load of hot, sticky cum deep in your cunt. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, feeling him fill you to the brim. 

For a moment, the only sound that lingers in the heavy air is the ragged rise and fall of your breathing, tangled with his own. Sukuna releases your wrists, and to your surprise, his movements shift — not harsh, not greedy. He pulls out of you with an almost reverent slowness, your body still trembling from the aftermath.

You whimper instinctively, still aching, still stretched far beyond your limits. His deep, throaty chuckle rumbles through the chamber as he watches you tighten around the emptiness he left behind.

“There, there, little girl,” he murmurs, brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek with unexpected tenderness. His clawed fingers trail your jaw, soft for the first time. “You got what you wished for.”

Through your half-lidded eyes, you catch the faintest hint of something new tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not smugness. Not triumph. Something quieter. Older.

A single, large hand cups your cheek, his thumb swiping gently beneath your eye. “Sleep now, pet,” he says, voice low and velvety. “Perhaps I’ll grant you another visit.”

The world goes dark not with fear, but with surrender.

Sunlight filters through the narrow cracks in your curtains, speckling your room in faint gold. You blink against the light, breath catching as memories rush in—vivid, violent, visceral.

You jolt upright and immediately regret it, pain flaring through every muscle. So it was real...

Gingerly, you swing your legs off the bed, feeling your thighs protest every movement. Every step toward your vanity is a struggle—your body marked, exhausted, claimed.

And when you catch your reflection, you freeze.

Your neck and chest are a canvas of bruises, deep purples blooming across pale skin like morbid blossoms. Small bandages pepper your body—tucked neatly over teeth marks, scratches, and raw places only he could’ve reached. You stare, wide-eyed, as a blush rises to your cheeks.

Did the King of Curses… bandage you?

Your hand comes up to touch one of them, and something twists in your chest. Not fear. Not shame.

Possession.

A flicker in the mirror draws your attention. For a brief second—too fast to be certain—you swear you see four crimson eyes watching from the shadows behind you. A whisper of heat coils at the base of your spine.

Then it’s gone.

But you know better now.

This isn’t over.

You had opened a door. And Sukuna… would never lets his plaything close it again.

[miaoua3]

hey! i just saw that u opened requests and i came here to ask If you could do a seventeen reaction when you're on your ovulation week..? like, what goes on on their mind seeing you so needy, almost begging for them.. 🫠 i would really appreciate that 'cuz i LOVE your writing! thank you!! 🩷

(embarrassed to say this but this request has been sitting in my inbox for MONTHS😭 gurl im so sorry im only answering it now, i hope you dont hate me too much🫶 also don’t mind how much more porn-descriptive it got half way through, i kinda…lost the plot halfway through lmao)

SVT & Your Ovulation Week

scoups-a natural care taker who goes insane at seeing you so needy, eyes glazed as you literally beg him to fuck you. normally would try to keep it cool and collected, but you are just so needy, all the restraint he possesses gets thrown out of the window in the name of pounding into your insatiable pussy. literally goes on for hours, still has the strength to fold you in half and absolutely ruin you, even after 4 rounds. he won’t stop until he has you sobbing his name while underneath his body, until the sheets are soaked through completely. his dick might as well fall off in the end because he isn’t stopping, no matter what. overall he loses his mind at seeing you so needy, begging for him to break you (both mentally and physically)

jeonghan-normally he would be all teasing and borderline sinister as he edges you to no end, but he knows how high your emotions can run during your ovulation that he kind of just…shuts up and fuck you till he almost passes out😭 but overall loves seeing you so needy and desperate for him, gets him a bit cocky knowing that he’s the one you seek out during your emotional and vulnerable times to take care of you. in the end he physically can’t go for longer, ends up just laying there with shaking legs and just says “use me if you still need to, but fuck i am NOT moving anymore”😭 (you literally fuck his brains out)

joshua-loving, caring, and downright sinister to you all at once. he mostly goes with whatever you are feeling-he can either make the most romantic love to you or he can tie you up and make you sob for the next 3 hours. in either way-he takes care of you, body and soul. he loves seeing you so needy, so desperate for him-his love, his cock and his presence. he loves having an excuse to just shut off the world for hours and just do what he loves the most-fucking you until your whole body is shaking

jun-is so scared of doing something to piss you off so he just…shuts up and does whatever you tell him to. want him to eat you out? 🫡already on it. want him to fuck you and not to stop for the next 6 hours?…well if he can just make a small pause for a snack he’s pretty sure he can do it. embodiment of “yes ma’am” in general, but during your ovulation week? your words are his prayer, he lives to please you and make you lose your mind over everything that he does to you. overall a bit overwhelmed at how needy you get but nothing he can’t handle. even if he couldn’t, he would push through it because seeing you so…cock hungry wakes something entirely different inside of him.

hoshi-oh probably the only one who acts even worse and needier than you. he can see all the signs-glazed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, the word “please” on the tip of your tongue and grabby hands, and he knows what time of the month is. he will NOT let you leave the bed for like a day straight, hands grabbing you and dragging you back to him as he says “where do you think you are going? we are nowhere near done yet.” so…rip to your pussy girl lmao i just know its gonna be BURNING from how hard and raw he will go at it. actually loses his insanity whenever he sees you get so hungry for him during your ovulation week, so in return he will make you go just as insane

wonwoo-cocky motherfucker who thoroughly enjoys seeing you begging for him to fuck you and to absolutely destroy your needy pussy. he’s all smirks and “oh yeah?”, ego getting fed every time you beg for him to give it to you. uses your neediness to play with you-not too much because you will probably whack him or drag him to your bed and take what you want and need from him, but just a little to get your senses heightened. overall very pleased seeing you let yourself be at his mercy, makes you dehydrated from how often he makes you cum on his face, fingers and cock, and makes sure that you are satiated

woozi-oh this man will have you shaking for DAYS from how much he would fuck you. something about your constant neediness and horniness makes him snap. completely loses all sense of self in the name of making you absolutely SOAK his sheets, be it from his fingers, tongue, dick or even a vibrator. it’s almost like your pheromones affect his so much that he too loses all control, wanting to just suffocate himself in your pussy. to say that he absolutely LOVES seeing you so needy for him and his touch, is an understatement. his chest fills with this weird sense of…pride? pride that he’s the one you seek out to fulfil your needs. pride that you trust him enough to take care of you during your probably most sensitive weeks. pride that you are his to take care of.

minghao-calm and collected on the outside but inside his mind there’s a whole storm brewing due to your glassy eyes and pleading voice. gets more teasing when he sees you like that-desperate and hungry for him. but not too much-his fingers tease your folds a second longer than usual, his lips stay on your pussy just to the point where he can feel your legs clamp around his head, he teases his dick against your folds just until you start whining and pulling him towards yourself. his brain just malfunctions whenever he sees you in this state, a primal need to prolong your neediness as much as possible by teasing you, by taking his time with you.

mingyu-if you think you are needy, you obviously haven’t seen gyu. it’s enough for you to pull on his shirt and look at him with those puppy eyes that scream “fuck me🥺please” and he’s a goner. he’s all over you, all tongue and spit while he’s messily kissing you, his big hands holding your cheeks. desperately grinds and humps against your clothed core, too impatient to take them off and too needy so he can’t help but roll his clothed dick into your heat. he isn’t stopping with pleasuring you until the sheets are soaked completely. he can’t help himself, it’s almost like your pheromones affect him just as much so he gets as needy as you do. one smell of your sweet pussy is all it takes for him to lose all senses, all thoughts to disappear from his head. the needy to have you moaning, screaming and crying out his name is just so strong he choses to give up all the control, all pride and self respect, there’s only ever you

dk-it can go in two ways for this one. first, he’s either all loving, romantic and sweet, whispering loving words to you as he slowly grinds his hips into your own, dick deliciously grazing the sides of your inner wall. he just wants to take care of you, to make you feel satisfied, to satisfy your deep needs. he won’t ever day no to you, doing his best to make his baby feel loved, appreciated and taken care of. two, he literally becomes this insatiable animal, literally spinning you around the room, throwing you on the bed before he drags you to the floor, all while fucking you at insane speeds. fucks you from the bed all the way to the kitchen counter. he won’t let you move an inch away from you, all over you, licking, biting and marking you as his. and what version you will get during the next ovulation? who knows, guess you will just have to sit and wait and see 🤷‍♀️

seungkwan-oh this smirky and cocky motherfucker. usually he’s acting like a virgin mary whenever you try to insinuate that you want to fuck, all scandalised and gasping, blushing while saying to take him to the dinner first. but when you’re ovulating? when he can clearly see you get all needy? when he can sense that you will either get him to give you what you want or that you will take it yourself? oh it’s game on then. going slow, to the point where you start crying in frustration but also from how good it feels. all the while he whispers in that deep voice of his things like “oh does my angel want more? want me to fuck you harder? to give it to you, just like you want it? how you need it? why don’t you try begging some more baby, see if i will care then.” he’s do meannnn but it’s so hot-it’s hot how confident he suddenly is, how with only his words he can reduce you to a whining and needy mess that you are. he loves seeing you so desperate for him, he can’t help himself but be a bit meaner so he can see you literally begging for him. it all makes him feel…proud in a fucked up way. in conclusion-ovulation time is his favourite time of the month

vernon-probably the least affected one. sure, it gets him all excited and makes him want to make you satisfied, but you won’t see him act like an animal like some of them do, nor will you see him fucking you for hours to no end. he will keep you satisfied and all, but he physically can’t go for longer than two rounds, he’s way too dehydrated for long fucking sessions as it is. still, he will try his hardest to keep you satisfied, even if in other ways. he knows how sensitive you are to many things, that’s why he’s always there to comfort you, both with his hugs, and his mouth on your sweet pussy. he knows that you get the need to crawl inside his skin, that nothing feels close enough. that’s why he will cuddle you so much until you become one, or he will literally let you feel his whole weight while he’s on top of you, hips rolling in deep movements as he’s fucking you. he knows how you need him to verbally show you that he loves you. that’s why he will gently kiss your forehead and whisper a little “i love you” every few hours-or, he will grab your neck, spit in your mouth and say “you are mine.” he will take care of you, that’s for sure-in which way however?🤷‍♀️ who knows

dino-oh poor boy. oh this poor poor boy. the moment you get your hands on him, he knows it’s going to be an eventful night. he doesn’t even fight it-the moment you grab the front of his shirt and practically throw him on your bed, he just accepts it and prepares for the longest and best fucking session of his life. he gets unusually submissive, he does whatever you want him to. you grab his hair and drag him to your pussy so he can eat you out? say less, your wish is his command. you want him to fuck you in a certain position? he’s breaking his back from how fast he tries to get into that position. he just wants to give you everything you might need. he can’t really explain why, he just…does. seeing you so needy, but still being needy only for him? it turns his brain into a mush. he’s already whipped for you as it is, but add all the emotions and pheromones while you are ovulating? you get simp dino maxxed out on the attitude “yes ma’am”.

[loafysainz]

COMING HOME | LN 4

lando norris!dad x fem!reader!mom

warn: super fluffffff

prev chap

After an entire week away on a girls’ trip, Y/N was finally coming home.

And Lando? He was already there, waiting—alone.

Noah and Leo were at a Kai (Max son) birthday party, which meant he had Y/N all to himself.

And oh, he was going to make the most of it.

The second he spotted her walking out of arrivals, suitcase in tow, he was on the move.

Lando pulled her into a crushing hug, burying his face in her neck. “Finally,” Lando groaned into her neck, inhaling deeply as if he was trying to memorize her scent. “Do you have any idea how much I missed you?”

Y/N laughed, hugging him back just as tightly. “I missed you too, baby.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his blue-green eyes shining with something possessive. “No, you don’t get it. A week, love? That felt like a damn year.”

She smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “A little dramatic, aren’t we?”

Lando huffed. “Not dramatic. Just a man starving for his wife.”

Lando grumbled dramatically, pulling back just enough to pepper kisses all over her face. His hands never stopped roaming—her back, her waist, her arms—like he was trying to make sure she was really there.

On the drive home, Lando kept one hand firmly on her thigh, occasionally squeezing or rubbing circles with his thumb.

The moment they stepped inside the house, it was game over.

He was all over her.

Lando clung to Y/N like he was making up for every second she had been gone. He nuzzled into her neck, whined whenever she tried to move away, and made it physically impossible for her to go anywhere without him attached in some way.

“M’spoiled now,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re not allowed to leave me that long ever again.”

Y/N laughed. “You sound worse than the kids.”

Lando scoffed. “Nah, I’m worse. Noah and Leo don’t have the same needs as me.” He nipped at her neck. “You’re mine.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but the truth was, she loved how much he adored her. Even after years together, two kids, and a chaotic life, Lando still treated her like she was his entire world.

He tilted his head up to look at her, his lips brushing against her jaw as he pouted. “At least they get you every day. I had to survive a week.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You called me every night.”

“Not the same,” he whined, kissing a slow path down her neck.

Lando wanted to be spoiled.

And he was making the most of it.

For the few precious hours they had alone, Lando insisted on being babied.

When it was time for lunch, he refused to eat unless Y/N fed him. He sat on the couch, eyes bright and mischievous, lips slightly parted as he waited.

“Baby,” Y/N sighed. “You can eat by yourself.”

Lando grinned. “Yeah, but I don’t want to.”

She shook her head fondly but gave in anyway, bringing the spoon to his lips. He accepted it happily, humming in delight.

“Mmm. Tastes better when you feed me,” he teased, leaning in for a quick kiss.

When it was time to shower, he refused to let her go alone

“Oh,” Lando gasped dramatically. “I also need help in the shower.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

Lando nodded solemnly. “Can’t possibly get properly clean without my wife’s assistance.”

And that’s how they ended up spending way too long in the shower, half washing, half just standing under the warm water, Lando’s arms wrapped around Y/N as he whispered how much he loved her.

Afterward, they tumbled into bed, Lando immediately pulling her into his chest, their legs tangling together as he buried his face in her neck.

“M’gonna get jealous of our own kids,” he murmured. “They always steal you away from me.”

Y/N smiled, running her fingers through his damp curls. “That’s because they need me.”

Lando huffed. “I need you.”

Lando, Y/N, and a bubble of warmth that neither of them wanted to pop.

But then—

The sound of tiny feet stomping up the stairs.

A door bursting open.

And two little voices squealing, “MOMMY!”

Noah and his little brother Leo came barreling into the room, full of excitement—until they saw the scene in front of them.

they saw their dad.

Still wrapped around their mom.

Still.

Holding.

Her.

Their excitement immediately turned into betrayal.

Noah stopped in his tracks, his tiny fists clenching at his sides. His big brown eyes shimmered with pure devastation.

Leo, the more dramatic of the two, gasped so loudly it was like the world had ended.

Noah’s voice wobbled. “Mommy!” His bottom lip quivered. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I wanted to hug you first!”

Y/N’s heart melted as she trying to reached out for him, but she couldn't because Lando mischievously held her back in his hug.

“Oh, baby—” Leo huffed, crossing his arms tightly.

“Daddy!” he accused, his little voice high with outrage. “Why is Daddy like that?!?! Now Leo is angry. Leo don’t want Daddy anymore!”

Lando grinned, clearly thriving off their reactions.

"Oh?" he teased, tightening his grip on Y/N. "What's wrong, little man?"

Leo's little face scrunched up. "NO!! That's Leo's mommy!"

Lando laughed, pressing even more kisses onto Y/N’s cheek, just to rile them up. “Mmm, no, I think this is daddy’s mommy. She is mine,”

Lando hummed, holding Y/N even closer. “Right, my love?”

Noah gasped in horror. "NO! That's our Mommy!"

Leo stomped his little foot, his voice high and wobbly. "Papa's Mommy is Glandma, Y/N is Leo's Mommy!"

Y/N had to bite back a laugh as Leo’s little lisp made his words even cuter.

Lando, fully enjoying himself, grinned. “You sure?” Lando teased. “I think she likes me more.”

Leo’s eyes welled up instantly. “Daddy’s bad! I will hit you!”

Lando smirked, challenging, “Oh yeah? You think you can take me, little man?”

Noah narrowed his eyes. “Daddy’s Bad! You’ll really get hit.”

Leo, fully tearing up now, sniffled. "Yeah, Daddy will get eaten by a monstel!"

Lando lost it.

"Oh nooo," he mocked, his voice exaggerated as he rocked Y/N in his arms. "Not the big bad monstel!"

Leo screeched, turning to Noah for backup.

“Daddy’s not scared of the monstel!” he wailed.

Lando grinned. “Oh, Daddy’s not scared because Daddy is safe in Mommy’s arms.” He smirked, snuggling into Y/N dramatically. “See? Daddy’s all safe here.”

Noah and Leo decided they had enough.

With both battle cries, they launched themselves onto the bed—except in their excitement, they almost tripped.

“Eh, be careful! Be careful, baby,” Y/N gasped, her voice instantly gentle and full of concern.

The second they heard her soft tone, both boys sniffled and made a beeline for her, scrambling into her arms. Lando reached out instinctively, steadying them as they climbed onto the bed.

Noah and Leo immediately latched onto Y/N, snuggling into her sides and glaring at Lando.

“Eh, don’t hit Daddy, Daddy will get hurt,” Y/N soothed, rubbing Noah’s back. “How about we just don’t play with Daddy? Noah and Leo can cuddle with Mommy instead, okay?”

That did the trick.

Both boys instantly relaxed, wrapping their tiny arms around her.

Lando gasped in betrayal. “Wait. No. That’s not fair—”

Too late.

They had claimed her.

For the next hour, the four of them lay tangled in bed together, the boys happily cuddled against Y/N as they chattered about their day. Noah recounted every little detail of the birthday party, while Leo excitedly explained how he talked to the “screen people” when Lando streamed.

And in that moment, Lando didn’t mind losing the game.

Because there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

[xingumi]

jasmine (megumi fushiguro x reader)

“you can’t, okay? not with him. not with anyone else. just me now.” 

tags: sfw, fluff, crush confession, possessive megumi, jealous megumi, friends to lovers, itadori is also there, nobara is also there, megumi can’t be honest with himself

notes: first fic!! also posted on my ao3, my writing requests are open :3 i wrote this for my friend and maybe some1 else will like too... art by @pantarheio8

----

megumi makes every effort to be a perfect gentleman. he holds your bags on shopping trips, picks up the lunch bill, and pulls his punches while sparring with you during training. his gestures are always perfectly measured, showing slight softness but keeping him at a safe, respectable distance. mostly because he didn’t like what it would mean for him if he let himself get any closer. 

his self control was a fragile thing, fraying at the edges when you spared a glance for anyone else. there is a limit to how far his friendly courtesy goes; his greed speaks to him stronger than his restraint, whispering insidious little thoughts– should be mine… 

he only recently came to the shameful realization of just how much he likes you. it didn’t happen all at once, it was slower. quieter, like a stray thread of his heart snagging and unraveling before he could stop it. he caught himself looking at you for a moment longer than necessary and he noticed the way his chest felt too tight when you smiled at him. it pained him how badly he wanted to monopolize your attention and how easily you monopolized his.

by the time he understood what it meant, it was already too late. megumi fushiguro had fallen in love with you. and somehow, that was the last thing he had ever wanted.

he cared too much about you to say something to you, to be freed from his silent yearning and to love you the way you were intended to be loved. he couldn’t throw away your friendship for feelings that he himself didn’t understand.

so he kept his hands in his pockets when he wanted to reach for yours. he looked away when you leaned in too close. he bit his tongue when the words hovering on the edge of his lips weren’t the ones a friend should say.

still, he hated the bitterness that came from being kept from his heart’s desire.

the proof is in the muscles in his face that twitch and flash a disapproving frown at the sight of itadori laxly throwing his arm around you. it bothered him how easily yuji touched you like it was nothing at all. it bothered him more that you seem to lean into the “friendly” gesture. he tries to explode itadori’s arm with his mind, unavailingly.

“on saturday, we can spend the whole day in tokyo, girls trip, no boys!” nobara exclaims like an eager grade schooler, linking her arm through yours and yanking you from itadori’s grasp. while thankful for that, a small wrinkle forms between megumi’s tightly knit brows. it doesn’t seem fair that she gets to lay claim to your time in a way that he couldn’t without blowing his cover. even nobara isn’t safe from megumi’s possessiveness. he sighs and turns a page in the book he’s pretending to read. 

you free yourself from being sandwiched between your two friends, standing abruptly from the couch. 

“i’d love to, bara, but i’m training with fushiguro that day.” you say apologetically, turning on your heels and planting yourself in the seat next to megumi.

hearing his name is bittersweet. he wishes you wouldn’t be so formal, but he loves hearing you say his name. in the quietest hours of the night, he imagines the sound of your voice ringing in his ear, calling his name over and over again. 

“whaatt? is this true?” nobara demands, narrowing her eyes at megumi. her voice snaps him back to reality and he replies without looking up. 

“she skipped last week. it’s only fair.” he remembers that you were markedly missing that day. your absence didn’t go unnoticed as you’d hoped it would. 

nobara huffs, defeated. “oh yeah, AND we missed human earthworm 4 because you saw it last saturday with yuji!”

megumi’s whole body stiffens. the room feels a little smaller and his breath suddenly feels uncomfortable in his throat. 

is that where she disappeared to? a whole day with him? why not anyone else? did they…  were they just hanging out? why didn’t she tell me? i’ve known her for longer than he has, so why would it be him?

megumi is quiet for a long minute. his white knuckles grip the book in his hand that he’s been using as a prop. his eyebrows are stitched together closer than before and his lips have pressed themselves into a thin line. 

i don’t even care! but… was it a date? does she like him or something? he definitely likes her, that piece of shit, he doesn’t know the first thing about her. 

but she didn’t even think to ask me. i want her to hang out with me. am i too late?

he barely heard the rest of the conversation. his mind was stuck on the image forming in his head— itadori walking beside you, making you laugh, sitting too close in a dark theater.

if he tried anything, i’ll seriously kill him. he’s dead either way. 

you notice megumi’s withdrawn posture and look at him inquisitively, craning your neck to gauge his body language. he’s quiet but not this quiet. he looks really, really pissed off. to you, it just looked like his book had just deeply offended him. you lean closer to him to get his attention. his eyes shoot up for a brief second to meet your concerned eyes. he feels like he’s been caught, like you can see right through him. 

“‘s something wrong?” you ask, wanting to put a comforting hand on his knee. you stop yourself, not knowing how he would receive the touch.

“confusing chapter,” he lies, with more hardness in his voice than he intended. 

– 

megumi couldn’t think straight the rest of the day. he was filled with a tight uneasiness and a heart-sinking feeling simmering beneath his skin that was impossible to ignore. he was so distraught by the idea of someone else making you smile in a way that was supposed to be his to earn.

the day passed unwillingly. every conversation felt like static in his ears. the training session was a waste of movement, his focus was shot to hell. even the simplest things—walking through the halls, eating dinner, hearing your voice—felt grating. the more he thought about it, the worse it got. the worse he got. 

the sky had deepened from azure to deep navy and the corridors quieted for the night. he was sick of his thoughts looping over themselves, tangled and knotting up. he figured that he’d done enough sulking for the day. 

megumi found himself on his feet, walking through the hall in a posture and cadence that felt weird, even to him. he couldn’t stop his feet from dragging as he navigated his way to your room. the walk was too short for him to reconsider his reckless decision. he stares at your door blankly before tapping three hollow knocks on the wood. 

“hello? it’s me,” he whispers, just loud enough to be heard through the wall. his voice is quivering already.

you’re reading your textbook when you hear his familiar voice cut the silence of the evening. startled, you slide out of bed to meet him at the door. he’s unexpectedly close to the door when you open it, making him shift back half a step. 

“hi, megumi,” you smile and look up at him. his arms hung awkwardly at his sides and his hands clenched and unclenched, like he didn’t know what to do with them. the blue light from the window in the hallway hit his angular face in a way that carved shadows along his sharp features, making his eyes seem darker and stormier. he’s always been handsome, sure, but something’s different about him now. you feel strangely intimidated by the broadness of his shoulders and the severe look he’s giving you now. 

he’s quiet for a second too long, also taking in how pretty you look out of uniform. 

“may i come in?” megumi asks, his voice still low. 

“of course,” you reply.

if he was nervous before, he was absolutely frantic walking into your room. his heart drummed against his ribs in a hurried rhythm, an anxious percussion echoing in his chest. 

“make yourself at home,” you gesture with open palms to your room. megumi is too nervous to sit so he stands with his feet planted in the dead center of your room.

“i hope i’m not intruding, were you up to something before this?” 

“not at all, you actually saved me from studying for history,” you laugh a little. his expression softens and his resolve is refreshed by the sound of your laughter. how could he let anyone else take this from him?

“okay, good…” megumi’s voice trails off. his breathing is heavier than usual. multiple beats of silence pass, too long and too heavy. it’s never usually awkward like this. you watch him, a bit lost as to why your crush of many months is standing in your room, stiff as a soldier at attention. 

even now, when he’s uncharacteristically uneasy, there’s something magnetic about him. a long day has weathered his usual guarded demeanor, leaving him looking just a little undone—his hair messier than usual, and in his casual clothes, the sharp control he always carries himself with has softened at the edges. somehow, his unpolished silhouette makes him even more handsome. there’s something breathtaking about seeing him like this, as if, for once, you’re seeing what’s underneath all the restraint he usually wears like armor.

still, he couldn’t have come at this hour of the night to have small talk. you don’t speak, just tilting your head at him, sensing there’s something he wants to say by the way his lips are parted slightly.  

he realizes then he has to get it out. he swallows hard, trying to draw enough moisture from his throat to speak. he exhales sharply through his nose, eyes flickering to the floor before dragging back up to meet yours.

then–

“i–,” his breath hitches. the words stick in his throat, thick and burning, because once they’re out, there’s no taking them back. he takes a labored breath before trying again. this time, his voice comes out in a rush like floodgates opening. 

“i just have to say something. i can’t watch like everything’s okay, i can’t pretend like it doesn’t bother me because it does. it really, really does. it’s driving me insane, because it’s not just today, it’s every time i see you with someone else, every time i think about–” he sucks in a shaky breath before his words roll out heavy again.

“i like you, okay? i’ve always liked you. you don’t know what you do to me and i’ve never felt this way about anything.” he drags one hand through his hair and avoids your gaze. 

“i’ve been waiting all this time– i don’t even know for what, but it was completely stupid because it feels like you’re slipping through my fingers and i’m too late and i just can’t–” he’s becoming completely undone in front of you, his voice swelling like an intense musical score. he shakes his head and struggles to become coherent. his voice comes out quieter when he speaks again. 

“i just– i can’t lose you. i can’t stand the thought of it, please…” by the end of his desperate ramble, his eyes have darted to every corner of your room and he’s sweating. when the dust has settled, he’s breathless, almost panting. 

“please, say something,” he’s pleading now, his voice even lower. 

despite his request, you don’t say anything at all. you can’t find the words. your feet move by themselves, silently taking swift steps towards him and closing the distance between the two of you. you hook your arms under his, pulling yourself to his chest. you finally hear how hard his heart is beating now. your head rests underneath his chin as you firmly wrap your arms around him and breathe him in fully.

“you don’t have to worry about losing me.”

megumi doesn’t immediately register the warm pressure that’s lodged itself comfortably against him. suddenly, his knees feel weak and his shoulders slump, finally being relieved of the tension he’s been holding all day. at the same instant, the invisible barrier he’d built around himself shatters, crumbling beneath the weight of your warmth.

for a moment, he can’t move at all, but his instincts bring his arms to you, hesitant at first, then tighter, pulling you flush against him like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. his hands grab at the fabric of your shirt, less chivalrously than he would’ve consciously decided. 

“you really mean it?” he whispers hoarsely. you nod without pulling yourself away from him.

in this moonlit memory, beautiful and tender, you can’t help but laugh. stoic and aloof megumi fushiguro has become a nervous wreck in a way you could’ve never imagined. you found it both endearing and amusing how helplessly vulnerable he made himself be for you. amusing only because he had been so wracked with anxiety, thinking you didn’t feel the same way, and he couldn’t have been more wrong. 

he feels the vibration of your failed attempt to hold your laughter and looks down, arms still around you. you meet his eyes, beaming ear to ear. 

“this is about that thing with itadori, right?”

he throws his head to one side and gives a weak scowl, irritated at the mention of his name. you laugh again, taking his dramatic annoyance as an answer to your question. it also annoyed him how well you knew him; he was a completely open book to you. he shakes his head. “no, well yes, but no, not really,” he huffs.

“i’ll have to thank him for bringing this out of you then.”

“i think you’ve had enough time with him recently.” megumi retorts quickly, abruptly shutting that idea down. 

you laugh again while soaking up the last seconds of his embrace before finally peeling yourself off him. you’re still connected at the waist when you meet his half lidded eyes, intently focused and glazed over with need. 

“you can’t, okay? not with him. not with anyone else. just me now.” he whispers, suddenly serious.

he says it with such authority that you don’t question what he means. you give him one slow nod. you notice how painfully close your faces are. you feel his steady breath tickling your skin. his hand finds its way to your chin, tilting your head up and to one side. anticipation paints your face as you both inch closer—

[fushigurhoez]

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍★

boyfriend!megumi x fem!reader ft. perv!toji

warnings • smut, pseudo-cest? getting spied on, all characters aged up, age gap (reader is 20, toji is late 30’s) gumi is possessive and a little mean at the end, pussy eating, vv brief ass play, face fucking, spitting, creampie, voyeurism, this is straight up nasty so if that ain’t your thing don’t read it, dark content



Megumi sighed, begrudgingly checking his phone for what had to be the millionth time in the last 4 hours, an irritated scowl tainting his face when he saw that your location was still at least 20 minutes away from his house.

‘Fucking traffic..’ he thought to himself upon seeing it was 5:17pm. Surely plenty of people were leaving work and headed home, longing to see their families after a grueling 8 hour shift.. however, he hadn’t seen you for a good 8 weeks and he could give a shit less about anyone else. You were supposed to be here almost 30 minutes ago, and he was itching to hold you in his arms again. Itching to sneak whiffs of your hair as you tucked your head under his chin and buried your face in his chest, your declaration of how badly you missed him muffled by how tightly he was embracing you. He was itching for you to get here before his dad did so he could hide you away in his room. He knew he couldn’t keep you away from him forever, but he was sure as hell going to try. One of his eyebrows twitched involuntarily at the thought of you even being in his fathers presence. He didn’t want to share you with anyone, anytime soon as selfish and greedy as it sounded. He attempted to sway his mind elsewhere, knowing that anticipating your arrival so diligently would only make the time drag by slower. He paced around his room some, fixing the various things sat on his dresser, a picture of the two of you taken at the county fair catching his attention. A small smile tugged at his lips as his eyes lingered on how brightly you were smiling. It had only been your first date, but even back then he craved your presence.

The sound of a car door shutting pulled him out of his reminiscences, looking out of his bedroom window to be greeted by the familiar sight of your moms car, your back facing him as your mother said something unintelligible to you before you turned around, almost as if you sensed his eyes on you. You smiled at him lovingly and he was pretty sure his feet moved before his brain could even register that he was moving, skipping a stair or two simply because it meant getting to you faster. He composed himself on the outside before opening the front door, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“Baby.” He breathed, his nose registering the sweet scent of your shampoo as he engulfed you in his arms, reveling in the security of yours around his waist. You smiled contentedly into his chest, snuggling into his subconsciously as though if you held him tighter you’d become one.

“Missed you s’much gumi..”

“I know baby, ‘missed you too.”

Your mom cleared her throat and waved smugly from the drivers seat, and megumi felt his cheeks tingling as he waved back, not letting you go.

“You kids behave” she teased, earning an embarrassed whine of “mom!” from you. You said your goodbyes and watched as she reversed out of the driveway, leaving the two of you standing on the front porch, still attached.

“Oh, uh let me take that for you.” Megumi reaches for the backpack slung over your shoulder and transfers it to his, muttering something about you packing ‘your whole room in this backpack’ and placing his hand on your lower back as he guided you upstairs to his room.

He was right behind you, his room at the end of the hall, almost in the clear without having to introduce you to his father.

“Where ya in such a hurry to kid?”

Almost.

Megumi’s fist clenched at his side as he turned around, not missing the curious look on your face as you stared at the man before you.

“Just to my room dad.” He mumbled with a deadpan stare.

“Not gonna introduce me to your friend? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

‘I am’ megumi thought to himself.

“She’s not my friend, she’s my girlfriend.” He corrected curtly as he pulled you closer to him by the hand on your waist, making you smile shyly.

“Uh hi, I’m y/n! You are..?”

“Toji” he held out his hand to you and you took it, expecting to shake his hand but it seems he had other plans, holding your delicate hand up and placing a chaste kiss on your soft skin, making your cheeks buzz with embarrassment.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” He maintained eye contact with you, your name rolling off his tongue as though he had known you forever and it was enough to piss megumi off, smacking his fathers hand away from yours and grabbing your hand as if to reclaim the part of you his father had dared to touch.

“That’s enough acquainting for now.” And he continued gently pushing you towards his room at the end of the hall, not missing the deep chuckle from his dad.

“Keep the door open, son.” He joked, walking back to his room at the opposite end of the hall.

“Whatever.” Megumi scoffed, leaving the door ajar literally less than a centimeter.

He glanced at you, already making yourself comfortable on his bed, leaning back on your hands as you gazed at him.

“Your dad’s…interesting.”

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose agitatedly.

“I’m sorry about that, I really am. That’s why I didn’t want you to meet him.” He sat your backpack down carefully as stood up, wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands immediately flew to your hips and he looked down into your eyes. He had always been big on eye contact.

“It’s fine babe, really. I wanna meet all your friends and family, no matter how strange.” You assured and he smiled softly. “Yeah? In that case wait till you meet yuji”

“I’m looking forward to it” you giggled, biting your bottom lip subconsciously and megumi didn’t miss it.

“But I’ve been looking forward to something else even more.” You stepped closer to him, closing the space between your bodies and he sighed at the feeling of your chest against his, pressing his forehead to yours. “Yeah?” He breathed and your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him with you until your knees hit the edge of the bed, sending the both of you falling onto it with your limbs entangled.

“Yeah” you grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down to make his lips meet yours, as he relaxed into your touch, making sure not to put all his weight on you. The kiss was sweet at first, shy as you both reacquainted your lips with one another’s after being apart for so long. It didn’t take long and the kiss quickly got heated, the both of you grasping at each other like you would slip away at any moment, breathing each others air so you didn’t have to pull away so soon. Megumi trailed his kisses down your jaw, kissing the spot right under it that made you grip his shoulders and tilt your head back in hopes that he’d kiss it so hard that you’d have bruises the next day.

“missed you so fucking much, gumi” you whispered, and he leaned back on his heels grabbing the neckline of his black tshirt and pulling it over his head, black hair falling into his face messily. He threw it behind him somewhere before helping you pull your hoodie over your head and tossing it into a pile on the floor. His heart raced in his chest as he stared down at you, admiring. It made you shy, how intense and full of love his eyes were when he looked at you. You couldn’t help but cross your arms over your chest and he shook his head, grabbing your wrists gently and pulling them away. “You don’t have to hide from me baby. It’s just us” his voice was soft, wanting you to understand that you were safe with him. You let him look at you some more, before he was leaning down planting soft kissed all over your newly exposed skin like it was the first time he had seen it. The two of you had been intimate a few times now but you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the way he palmed your breasts, squeezing one so gently while he flicked his tongue over the other. He pinched your left nipple while he sucked on the right one, his movements increasing in desperation.

“m-megumiii” you whined, fingers tangling in his raven locks and pulling making him groan around your now stiff bud. He switched to the other one, not stopping until both of your cute nipples were glistening with his saliva and you were arching your chest up in his face begging him to do something about the ache between your legs. He kissed down your body slowly, strong hands pushing your hips back down on the bed when you would cant them up, trying to rub your needy cunt against his abs.

“Patience, baby.” He’d remind you, thumb caressing over the stretch marks on your hip to soothe you. He hooked his fingers under the waist as of your cargo pants, tugging them down your legs before they too became part of the growing pile of clothes. Now underneath him in just your plain black cotton panties you couldn’t help but wish you had worn something a bit sexier, but you had always been one to prioritize comfort..something megumi loved about you. Even though the fabric was dark, he couldn’t miss the way it clung to your pussy, wetness accentuating the shape of your puffy lips. He could smell your arousal as he kissed between your thighs, coming close to where you needed him and even placing a quick kiss on your covered clit before going back to nipping at your thighs. Your hand gripped his hair yet again, whining as you tried to push his face into your cunt making him chuckle at how badly you needed him.

“What do you need from me baby? Tell me.” He hooked his index finger under your panties, trailing it under the elastic trim that encircled your thighs, your delicious fucking thighs. He could lay between your legs for hours just sucking and biting at them and watching you writhe under him. He looked into your eyes awaiting your answer and you looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

“Please don’t make me say it.. s’ embarrassing”

He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You were so fucking cute.

“I won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me love.” He kissed your clit again, but harder this time making your body jerk as you sucked in a breath, grip on his hair tightening.

“Please baby..” you pleaded but he needed more than that.

“Please what?” He snapped the edge of your panties against your skin.

“Please eat me out..” you said shyly and your plea went straight to his cock as he hurriedly dragged your panties down your legs, mouth watering at the string of arousal connected to them before he tossed those too. He put his hands under your knees, pushing them up until you were almost folded in half and watched as your pussy spread for him, groaning at the sight. You were so wet it was dripping down your ass and he couldn’t resist, his hot tongue laving over your puckered hole, cleaning up every bit of your essence before dipping into your vagina and up to your clit in one greedy lick.

“Nnngh, fuck gumi!” You cried out at the feeling of his tongue violating everything you had to offer to him.

“Shhh baby, gotta try n be quiet okay?”

You nodded quickly, as though you’d agree to anything he said if it meant he’d keep licking you out this good. His tongue swirled calculated circles on your hard clit, rolling it under the precise tip of his tongue and your pussy gushed more arousal everytime it clenched, sliding down the crack of your ass before he’d lap that up too. You were panting harshly as you tried to be as quiet as you could but he was making it hard, huffing against your pussy as he ate you raw.

“Fuck I missed this pussy..” he moaned, spitting on your cunt before digging two of his slender fingers into your hole and curling them upwards before latching back onto your clit and sucking.

“Ohhh fuck baby, yeah!” You gasped, sitting up to lean back on your elbow as you watched him eat you out.

“right fucking there megumi, you’re gonna make me cum” you whispered pushing his hair out of his face to meet his eyes looking up at you from between your legs. You both locked eyes for all of 4 seconds before you were tossing your head back, slapping your hand over your mouth and sobbing into it.

“Tsk” toji kissed his teeth as he slammed his phone down on his bedside table, reading the text that shiu sent him 7 times but not being able to actually grasp the words in it due to the sounds floating down the hallway. He had tried closing his door and it’s like the two of you only got louder.

“Fucking kids.” He grumbled, standing up from his bed and running his hand over his face, his scarred lips set into a scowl. Megumi knew better than to fuck in his house, let alone while he was there. He gets it, the boy was excited to see you but this was unacceptable, he couldn’t even focus on his work for fucks sake.

“Yeah, no way” he decides, twisting his doorknob and walking out into the hallway, intent on banging on the door and telling the two of you to shut the fuck up.

“Megs!” He says, fist already raised to knock on the door. His fist hovers in the air, unmoving as shock takes over his body, his breath catching in his throat. Through a crack in the door, he sees the two of you, just barely able to make out the position you’re in. Megumi has you at the bottom end of his bed, on your back with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he ruts into you. His hand is clamped over your mouth but toji can still hear you crying out from under it with every thrust his son gives to you. He sees the way your breasts jump with every thrust, and the sound of skin on skin and heavy breathing is loud in his ears, his hearing amplified all of a sudden.

He’s suddenly painfully aware of how hard his dick is, leaning against the cold hallway wall as though that would cool him down, and he can hear the blood rushing through his ears. He peaks through the crack again, seeing that megumi is leaned back on his heels, with his hands under your knees to keep your legs up, face screwed in concentration and pleasure.

“I love you so fucking much y/n.” He grunts, one hand now on your throat to keep you from screaming as he delivers stroke after stroke into your sopping cunt. It’s such an intimate moment.

Toji almost feels bad for what he’s about to do.

His hand quickly reaches into his sweats, finding his hard heavy length, breathing roughly through his nostrils as he squeezes himself at the base, jerking himself slowly at first as he keeps his eyes locked on the two of you. His cock throbs in his hand at the sight.

megumi was really getting you good, little “uh uh uh” sounds leaving your lips as he fucked you, and toji had been around long enough to be able to tell that you were about to cum. He fucked his fist up and down on his dick at the same pace as the two of you, eyes fluttering shut as he too neared his high.

“m-meg i’m cumming, im cumming oh—fuck!” You squealed, gasping for air as megumi fucked you through it, and toji forced his eyes open to watch you fall apart, looking back up at his boy only to be met with piercing jade eyes staring back at him through the crack in the door. A smirk so evil it could only be described as sinister, adorns his face as he fucks you harder into the mattress cooing down at you as you cry about it being too much.

As if knowing it was the worst time possible, thick spurts of cum overflowed out of toji’s cock, over his fist and down the front of his sweatpants. The pleasure is damn near blinding but toji keeps his eyes locked on the two of you anyway, megumi grunting as he presses his hips flush against yours, keeping eye contact with his father as he fucks his seed deeper into you. He doesn’t give you time to recover, pulling out of you and lacing his hand in your hair, pulling you so that your knees dig into the bed with your face by his half-hard dick. “Lick me clean.” He demands and you do so obediently, sucking the cum clean off of him. It’s only then, with your ass up and facing the door does toji see how wrecked your pussy is. It’s dripping with thick white seed identical to what stains the front of toji’s pants. Your hole flutters and it just keeps dripping out, running down your thighs.

“Such a good girl for me baby.” Megumi groans, his grip on your hair ever so tight as he bobs your head up and down his shaft, gagging you on it as if to say “fuck you” to his father. He pulls it out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ and smacks it across your face a few times.

“Open your mouth.” He demands and as soon as you do, he spits harshly into your mouth, you swallowing greedily.

Toji rolls his eyes at the smug look on his son’s face, tucking his cock back into his pants and walking back down the hall towards his room.

“Little fucking freak..”