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creamflix · 1 month ago

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EPISODE 9 — VIRGINITY LOSS & RIDING ! — featuring gojo satoru & geto suguru content warnings: established relationship, lots of praising, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, finger sucking, virginity loss, riding, soft dom gojo, soft dom suguru — kinktober masterlist ♰ general masterlist

GOJO couldn't tear his eyes away from you, the sight of the ring on your finger, sparkling faintly in the dimly lit room, making his chest tighten.

he’d thought the word would never suit him — ‘husband’ sounded far too domestic for someone like him, but looking at you now, lying on your back beneath him, breathing softly as his lips brushed along your collarbone, it was the only title that made sense.

“god, i still can’t believe it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. his fingers trailed down your sides, slow and deliberate, memorizing every inch. “you’re mine now. all mine.” his tone had a possessive edge, but his touch remained gentle, worshipping.

your breath hitched as his lips found your neck, sucking lightly before pulling away to look into your eyes. “you’ve always been mine,” you teased, the smirk tugging at your lips a small victory, knowing how easily you could push his buttons.

satoru chuckled, the sound low and almost dangerous, but his eyes betrayed nothing but pure adoration. “yeah, but this is different,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “now everyone knows. everyone knows you belong to me.”

the weight of his words settled heavily, but it didn’t scare you. in fact, it thrilled you — the way he claimed you, the way his touch felt like it was branding you as his own. his hands slipped lower, fingers tracing the curve of your waist as he leaned in, his mouth ghosting over your lips.

“i’ve been waiting for this,” satoru admitted, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “for so long.” he kissed you, deeply, as if trying to prove a point. and in that kiss, you felt his need, the raw intensity behind every stroke of his tongue, every gentle bite of his teeth against your lower lip.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to let his words sink in, his breath mingling with yours. “how you make me lose my mind.”

he was always like this, cocky and full of himself, but the way he looked at you now — it was different. there was no arrogance, no smug grin, just… devotion. an unwavering, undiluted love that made your heart race.

“you love me that much, huh?” you teased again, though your voice was breathless, barely able to mask how he made you feel.

“more than you’ll ever know.” his hands gripped your hips firmly, fingers digging in just enough to leave a delicious sting, and his lips quirked into a grin. “but i’ll show you. i’ll show you how much you mean to me. how good i can make you feel.”

he shifted, positioning himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours as his lips hovered above your stomach, trailing lower and lower. every kiss, every touch felt like a silent promise, an unspoken vow to always make you his.

“you’ve been so good to me, baby,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise, fingers slipping between your thighs. “my perfect little wife, always so sweet for me.”

your body trembled under his touch, the praise sinking in deep, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed over the inside of your thigh. he chuckled, feeling your reaction, his ego swelling as he pressed soft kisses along your skin.

“see? i knew you’d be perfect for me,” he purred, his fingers moving in teasing circles. “always knew. even back then.” his voice dropped, becoming darker, more serious. “but now… now, i get to ruin you. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

his words were filthy, but they had you unraveling, each syllable seeping into your core as his fingers finally pressed into you, slow and deliberate. your back arched, and satoru’s name spilled from your lips, breathless and desperate.

gojo’s eyes never left yours as he brought his fingers to his mouth, your slick coating them. with a deliberate slowness, he licked each finger clean, his tongue tracing along the length of his digits, savoring every drop. his gaze was dark, intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly all over again.

“sweet as always,” he murmured, voice rough with desire. “you’re perfect, baby.”

before you could respond, he slid those same fingers between your lips, gently guiding them into your mouth. his eyes locked on yours as you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around his fingers. the low groan that rumbled from his chest told you just how much he loved the feel of you, warm and soft around him.

“fuck, that feels good,” he breathed, his hips shifting slightly against you, his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh. he pulled his fingers from your mouth slowly, savoring the wet heat before letting his thumb caress your bottom lip. but then, his expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes fading just a bit, replaced with something more serious. his breathing slowed, and the air between you thickened, heavy with anticipation.

“baby,” his voice dropped, more sincere now, a quiet edge of vulnerability you didn’t hear from him often. “are you ready for this?” he asked, his tone careful. “i mean… really ready?”

the question hung in the air, the weight of it settling over both of you. you knew what he meant. this was something the two of you hadn’t done yet — something that went beyond just being together, beyond the teasing touches and playful kisses. it was the final step, the ultimate form of giving yourself to each other. your first time, and his.

you bit your lip, heart racing as you looked up at him, the nervousness you felt mirrored in his gaze. he wasn’t the ever-confident, cocky gojo satoru in this moment. he was just… satoru, your satoru, and he was asking you to take this next step with him.

he leaned in, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his hand cradling the side of your face with such tenderness it almost broke your heart. “i want it to be with you. only you.” his voice was barely above a whisper, full of sincerity and emotion. “but if you’re not ready, we can wait. i’m not rushing you.”

the softness in his words, the way he always put you first, made your chest tighten. this wasn’t just a physical thing for him; it was more. it was his way of showing you that he loved you, that he was willing to give you all of him, completely.

you swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest, but there was no hesitation when you spoke.

“i’m ready, satoru,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. your hand came up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over his skin. “i want this. with you.”

he let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and anticipation flooding his features as he kissed you, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into that kiss. “i’ll take care of you,” he promised softly against your lips, his hands moving to slowly undress the rest of you, careful and patient, as though he was unwrapping the most precious gift.

“we’ll take it slow,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his lips trailed down your neck, “and if you need me to stop, you just say the word.”

the trust between you felt palpable, like an invisible thread tying you together, and as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses down your bare skin, you knew this moment would stay with you forever. this wasn’t just an act — it was a confession, a promise, something only the two of you would share.

satoru's hands slid lower, his touch gentle and reverent as he positioned himself above you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt. there was none. you were ready for him, for this next step, for whatever came after. and as his lips found yours again, everything else faded away — there was only him, and the love you shared, stronger and more certain than ever before.

satoru’s breath hitched the moment his velvety tip slid past your entrance, and for a split second, his mind went completely blank. the warm, tight embrace of your walls was everything he had imagined - no, better. it felt like heaven itself was pulling him in, and he had to clench his jaw to stop the groan from escaping his throat too quickly. he blinked, dazed, barely able to process the overwhelming sensation with just the tip inside you.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as his forehead pressed against yours, white strands of hair sticking to his damp skin. he hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even begun to feel the full extent of you wrapped around him, and already, his body was betraying him. it was so good that his brain short-circuited for a second, a wave of pleasure so intense that he had to remind himself to breathe.

his hands gripped your hips, trying to ground himself, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on not losing control. he hadn’t even begun to truly enter you yet, but the way your body hugged him made it nearly impossible to think straight. what the hell’s gonna happen when i’m all the way in?

you gasped his name, your voice breathless, and satoru’s eyes shot open. your hands were clutching at his shoulders, and you looked up at him with a soft concern that made his heart swell. “‘toru... are you okay?”

that question nearly sent him over the edge right then and there. the way your voice trembled, the way you said his name — it was pure, unfiltered sweetness, like you were worried about him when he should be the one making sure you were alright. you were making this so much harder for him, and the way your body trembled beneath him didn’t help.

he chuckled softly, though his breath was shaky, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “you’re asking me if i’m okay?” his voice was hoarse, struggling to maintain his usual composure. “baby, you feel so damn good I’m trying not to lose it here.”

his fingers dug into your hips, keeping himself steady as he slowly pushed forward, sinking in just a little more. every inch felt like torture, a blissful, agonizing kind of torture, and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning too loudly. the way you fit around him — it was like you were made for him, every part of you molding perfectly to his shape, and he could feel his restraint slipping with every breath.

“i knew it’d be good,” he murmured, his voice strained as he kept himself from thrusting all the way in, “but this —” he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just give in and bury himself inside you. “this is something else.”

his forehead pressed harder against yours, the heat between your bodies intensifying as he whispered against your lips. “you’re killing me, you know that?”

your breathless moans were making it worse, each sound sending another shock of arousal through his system, and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of losing control. i can’t finish too soon, he told himself, struggling to keep his mind focused on anything but the way your body felt wrapped around him. what kind of husband would i be if i did?

he forced himself to stop, his hips trembling as he held still, buried just halfway inside you. his chest heaved, his breath ragged as he kissed you, the desperation in his touch clear. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with need. “so fucking perfect, i don’t know how much longer i can hold back.”

he needed to move, to bury himself in you completely, but he couldn’t — at least, not yet. just a little more, he thought, fighting to keep his control intact, even as your name spilled from his lips in a quiet, reverent whisper.

when you whispered for him to go faster, satoru practically whined, his lips brushing against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. your words sent a pulse of heat straight through him, and his hips twitched in response, aching to give you exactly what you wanted. but there was a problem, one that satoru didn’t quite know how to confess. if he went faster — if he gave in to that pace — he wouldn’t last. not with how perfectly you enveloped him, how snug and warm you felt around him.

“baby,” his voice came out strained, almost desperate, as his fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place. he couldn’t help the soft groan that escaped his throat, his mind foggy with the overwhelming sensation of being inside you. he wanted to go faster, to drive into you like you were begging him to, but the tightness of your walls around him made it impossible to think clearly. it was too good — you were too good.

how could he tell you that? that speeding up, giving in to his primal urge, would mean a higher chance of losing himself too quickly? the last thing he wanted was to finish before he could truly savor this — savor you.

“i want to,” he admitted, his lips trailing up your jaw, voice thick with restraint. “god, i want to so bad.” his hips rocked forward slowly, and even that was almost too much. “but if i go any faster, i don’t know if i can hold out.”

his breath hitched, his forehead pressing against yours as he closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but how incredible you felt. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured, biting his lip as he thrust shallowly, savoring the sensation of your walls hugging him in all the right ways. ��i don’t want this to end too soon.”

it was the truth — every second inside you was pure bliss, and he couldn’t get enough. you were pulling him in, making him want more, crave more. your body was so inviting, so snug, that it made him feel like he could drown in the pleasure. how could he not want more?

“fuck,” satoru groaned, his voice dropping lower as his grip on you tightened. “you don’t know what you do to me.” his movements remained slow, deliberate, as he tried to pace himself, but the desire to pick up speed, to give in to the growing need for release, was becoming harder to resist. every soft sound you made, every call of his name, only pushed him closer to the edge.

“you’re making it so hard for me,” he whispered, his tone laced with frustration and affection. “i don’t know how much longer i can keep this slow.” he smirked slightly, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, as his hips ground against you in an agonizingly slow rhythm. “but i want to make it last. i want to feel you for as long as i can.”

his resolve was crumbling, though, and he knew it.

the second satoru admitted his fear of finishing too early, something in you shifted. the vulnerability in his voice stirred a new kind of thrill within you — one you hadn’t expected. you wanted to push him, tease him, see how far he could go before he snapped. the way his breath hitched when he said he might not last much longer sent a spark through you, igniting a dark, almost sadistic pleasure that made you want to see him lose control completely.

you leaned forward, lips grazing his ear before sinking your teeth into his shoulder — not too hard, but enough to make him wince, his body jerking in response. the sound that left his throat was almost a whimper, and you felt his hips stutter, his attempt to cover it up with a moan only making it more obvious. you heard him. felt him.

“fuck,” he hissed, his breath shaky as his hands clutched your hips even tighter. your name spilled from his lips, strained and broken, as he struggled to keep some semblance of control. but you could tell he was right on the edge, teetering between holding back and completely falling apart. and the way you bit him? that only made things worse. or better, depending on how you looked at it.

you grinned against his skin, biting down a little harder as he drove himself into you, his movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. each thrust was deep and unsteady, his usual confidence crumbling right before your eyes. and you loved it.

he whimpered again, his voice trembling as he tried to keep the rhythm, but you could feel the way his body tensed, the way his breathing became shallow and ragged. you knew he wouldn’t last much longer — he was barely holding on as it was.

“shit — baby — ” his voice cracked, and before either of you could even react, his hips bucked sharply against yours, and suddenly, his resolve shattered completely.

satoru gasped, his head dropping to your shoulder as he thrust deep one last time, his body convulsing as he came hard, hot ribbons of his release filling you. his hips jerked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tensing as he rode out the waves of pleasure, gasping for air as he bucked against you, his movements wild and unrestrained.

“fuck, fuck —” he groaned, his voice breathless and raw, his grip on you bruising as he clung to you like a lifeline. the sensation of his hot, sticky release spilling into you, coating your insides, had him practically trembling, his body still shaking with the aftershocks as he pressed his forehead against yours.

his breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he tried to recover, but the look in his eyes was one of sheer exhaustion and bliss. “you... you did that on purpose,” he muttered, a weak grin tugging at his lips as he kissed you, his voice still breathless from the intensity of his release.

even though he was spent, there was no mistaking the spark of mischief that danced in his eyes.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked at satoru’s flushed face, still recovering from the intensity of his release. “how was that for a first time?” you teased, the playfulness in your tone undeniable.

but satoru didn’t immediately answer. instead, he shifted, his eyes dropping to the mess between your legs. with a soft groan, he lowered himself, settling between your thighs as his gaze locked onto the aftermath of what you two had just shared. small blobs of his cum clung to your folds, some of it slipping out and beginning to drip down your thighs. his eyes darkened at the sight, his expression growing more serious, more primal.

"fuck," he whispered, almost to himself, his fingers brushing lightly against your sensitive skin. he looked up at you with a lazy grin, his usual cockiness returning full force, despite the exhaustion still weighing on him. “i’d be damned if i let any of that go to waste.”

his words hung in the air, dripping with intent as he licked his lips. “so, what’s it gonna be, baby?” he asked, his tone dangerously playful as his fingers traced teasing circles on your thigh. “i either clean you up with my tongue…” his breath was hot against your skin as he dipped his head closer, lips hovering just above your slick folds, “or i fuck all of this back into you.”

he shot you a wicked grin, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief and lust, as if the answer didn’t really matter — he was going to enjoy either option. his lips brushed against the inside of your thigh, and you could feel the heat of him, so close to where you needed him most.

“so... what’s it gonna be?” his voice dropped lower, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, his fingers lightly grazing over the mess he left, a teasing promise of what was to come.

a rush of heat surged through your body at his words, igniting something deep inside you. the way satoru’s voice dropped, teasing and full of promise, had your heart pounding in your chest. your breath hitched, barely able to hold back the whine that spilled from your lips.

“just — anything with your tongue, ‘toru,” you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. your thighs instinctively tried to close around him, but his strong hands held you in place, spreading you open as he gave you that signature grin of his — cocky, mischievous, and entirely in control.

“oh, baby,” he chuckled, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, “i’ll show you exactly what this tongue can do.”

and then, without warning, he dove into your folds, his mouth hot and relentless as his tongue swirled around your entrance, lapping up every bit of the mess he’d left behind. the sensation was immediate and overwhelming. your body jolted at the sudden contact, a sharp gasp escaping your throat as satoru devoured you, his tongue dragging over your slick heat with a precision that left you writhing.

“fuck — ‘toru,” you moaned, your hands fisting into the sheets as his tongue worked you over with a hunger that bordered on feral. he wasn’t gentle — he was ravenous, his mouth pressing against you with an intensity that made your legs tremble. he teased and taunted, his lips brushing over your swollen clit only to pull away and return to your entrance, sucking and licking until every last drop of his cum was cleaned from your folds.

but he didn’t stop there.

he groaned low against your skin, his tongue pushing deeper, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider, angling your hips so he could bury his face further into you. “god, you taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your cunt as his tongue dipped in and out of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

your back arched off the bed, your fingers scrambling to find purchase in his hair as he ate you out like a man starved. the pressure was building, intense and almost too much. but satoru didn’t slow down — if anything, he pushed harder, his tongue fucking into you, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard, making your entire body quiver.

“you’re shaking, baby,” he murmured between licks, his tone teasing, but there was something darker in his voice, something that told you he wasn’t even close to done with you yet. “you like that, huh?”

you barely managed to nod, your breath coming in ragged pants as he continued his assault on your senses. the pleasure was dizzying, overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that. it was the way he was relentless, the way he stuffed you with his tongue, as if he was determined to make you feel every inch of it, to push you past the point of pleasure and into something else entirely — something bordering on painful in its intensity.

it was a pleasurable pain, though. the way his tongue worked inside you, the way his hands gripped your hips and forced you to take everything he gave you — it was too much, and yet not enough all at once.

your stomach clenched as the pressure built, his mouth working you closer and closer to the edge until the sensation almost hurt in the most exquisite way possible. every drag of his tongue, every pull of his lips had your body tensing, your thighs trembling with the need for release, but satoru wasn’t giving you that yet. no, he wanted to take his time — wanted to push you to the brink and keep you there.

“fuck, satoru — please,” you whimpered, your hands tugging at his hair, your body teetering between pleasure and pain as he pushed you further and further. your cunt ached from the way his tongue filled you, stretching you in ways that left you gasping, your body trembling from the sensation.

he chuckled darkly against your folds, his hands pressing your thighs even further apart as his tongue delved deep inside you again, swirling and licking, relentless in his pursuit to break you.

“not yet, baby,” he growled, pulling back for just a second, his lips shiny with your arousal. “i’m not done with you.”

and then he dove back in, his tongue fucking into you with renewed intensity, his lips and teeth grazing your clit as he pulled you even closer to that line, keeping you teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, between ecstasy and something darker, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

after what seemed like an eternity of being overwhelmed by his relentless tongue, satoru finally lifted his head from between your legs, his lips wet and shining with evidence of his handiwork. his blue eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he gazed up at you, his trademark smirk plastered across his face.

“how’s that, baby?” he teased, voice thick with amusement and pride, as if he hadn’t just pushed you to the brink of overstimulation.

his white hair stuck to his forehead, damp from sweat, but that didn’t stop him from looking impossibly smug as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your inner thigh. you twitched at the contact, your body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just put you through.

with a wink, he looked up at you, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin along your thigh. “a little payback,” he said playfully, clearly satisfied with himself for the way he’d worked you over. he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, his lips brushing against the skin as he continued to pepper lazy kisses up your leg.

you could barely form words, still reeling from the intensity of it all, your breath shaky as you tried to catch it. satoru’s teasing grin only widened as he sat up, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back over your body, settling his weight on top of you.

“told you i’d show you what my tongue can do,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you softly. the taste of him, of you, lingered on his lips as his hands wandered down to your hips, massaging the tender skin there.

"think you can handle more?" he asked, eyes darkening slightly as his grin shifted into something more dangerous, more enticing.

with SUGURU, you felt like you were on top of the world — your partner, your lover, your everything. his presence alone made you feel weightless, like nothing could pull you down. little did you know, though, that you’d soon be literally on top of the world with him, straddling suguru and watching his dark eyes devour every inch of you as you rode him.

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, voice rich with affection as his hands found your hips, grounding you. his fingertips dug into your skin, pulling you down onto him, guiding your movements with a gentle but insistent grip that made you shiver. his hands slipped up to your waist, one sneaking up your back to pull you closer, his touch reverent yet possessive. “you feel so good… you’re perfect like this.”

your cheeks flushed at the praise, warmth flooding through you as you moved in sync with his guidance. suguru’s gaze stayed locked on you, his eyes full of admiration as his thumbs rubbed circles into your skin. he tilted his head back, sighing deeply, his lips parted as he took in the sight of you on top of him.

“so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with awe and desire. his hands roamed up and down your body, groping and squeezing, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, each caress claiming more of you. “you don’t know what you do to me.”

you leaned into his touch, letting him pull you closer until your chest was pressed against his. suguru wrapped an arm around you, fingers tracing the curve of your back as he leaned in, pressing tender kisses along your collarbone, up the side of your neck. every kiss sent tingles down your spine, making you arch into him, his lips warm and soothing against your flushed skin.

“you’re doing so well for me,” he praised, his hand trailing back down to squeeze your hip, pulling you flush against him as he let out a low groan. “just like that, baby… so good.” his other hand came up to cup your cheek, guiding your face toward his as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “my perfect girl.”

the sweet endearments poured from his lips with every thrust, each one making your heart race. he’d never sounded so tender, so in awe of you, and it made you feel like you truly were on top of the world, held up by his adoration and strength.

“look at you,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his voice full of pride and affection. “you’re everything i could ever want.”

the moment he felt you slow down, suguru’s hands tightened on your hips, grounding you as he rocked his own up to meet you, pressing deep. the upward thrust of his hips made your eyes roll back, and a faint, breathless moan slipped from your lips, your body tightening around him involuntarily. the friction, the stretch—it was almost too much and yet exactly what you needed, igniting a warmth deep in your belly that only suguru could give.

“what’s this, baby?” he teased, his voice a dark, honeyed whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “do i really have to do all the work here?” he grinned, one hand drifting up to gently flick your nipple, earning another soft gasp from you as you blinked, trying to focus on him. “didn’t you say you were gonna take care of me tonight?”

“i am—” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, but you trailed off, feeling the heat pool between your legs as his thumb brushed across your sensitive skin, his hands now trailing up your sides, leaving your skin tingling and sensitive to every touch. his gaze was heavy, adoring, yet clearly amused as he took in the dazed look in your eyes, his tongue flicking over his lips as he chuckled.

“oh, i know you are, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your nipples with deliberate slowness, watching your back arch in response. “just seems like you’re getting a little… distracted.” his tone was low and teasing, and with another thrust of his hips upward, he ground deeper into you, drawing out a soft, breathy moan. “mmph…”

you bit your lip, trying to stay focused, but each gentle thrust from below and the way his hands molded to your body, groping and teasing, left you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders. his hands stayed busy, one pinching a nipple while the other skimmed over your waist, making it nearly impossible to keep your rhythm steady. every time you slowed, he was there to fill the gap, his hips meeting yours with just enough force to jolt you back to reality.

“c’mon, baby,” he whispered, his voice a warm caress against your skin. “thought you wanted to take care of me?”

suguru’s grip tightened around your waist, his patience fraying as he watched you try to keep up. he knew he wasn’t making it easy for you—he was big, girthy enough that you could feel every inch stretch you, pulse inside you. seeing you struggle, cheeks flushed and brows knit in concentration, only fueled his desire to take control.

“alright, baby,” he murmured, that dark, low voice holding a hint of amusement as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers splaying out to hold you steady. “guess i’ll help you out a little.”

before you could respond, he lifted you slightly, pulling almost all the way out, only to bring you crashing back down onto him. his hips met yours with a solid, breathtaking thrust that made you cry out, your body tightening around him as he set a pace, guiding you up and down on his cock. each motion left you gasping, your body jolting from the force of his movements.

“fuck—sugu,” you moaned, barely able to keep up as he held you firmly, his thrusts deep and relentless. each time he bottomed out, a shiver of pleasure shot through you, toes curling as he buried himself to the hilt, stretching you until you could hardly breathe. the obscene, wet squelch of your bodies meeting filled the room, echoing each time he guided you back down onto him, more consistent, more indignant.

“that’s my girl,” he muttered, almost to himself, watching you take him in again and again, his jaw clenched with satisfaction. “so good for me—look at you.”

your hands scrambled for purchase, finding his shoulders as you leaned forward, resting against his chest while he continued to drive himself into you, the broken moans tumbling from your lips only making him grip you tighter, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he pushed you down onto him, again and again.

his voice dropped to a husky murmur, thick with pride as he watched you struggle to keep up with the rhythm he set, your body soft and pliant under his guidance. "look at you, baby," he whispered, brushing a hand over your stomach, his fingers tracing the bulge pressing up beneath your skin with a dark fascination. “taking all of me… mmph, look at that—feel that?”

you nodded shakily, breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you felt the shape of him, impossibly deep. the sight of that bulge sent heat rushing through you, making it hard to focus on anything but him as his voice washed over you.

“god, you’re doing so good for me,” he continued, his hands pressing down on your waist, keeping you steady as he filled you up with each roll of his hips. “riding me so well—even if i am doing all the work, huh?” his laugh was low, teasing, as he pushed up into you, coaxing another whimper from your lips. “ah—there you go.”

his praises wrapped around you, each word sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. “taking me so well, sweetheart,” he groaned, his voice filled with awe as he watched your body struggle to accommodate him. every movement was slow, deliberate, each thrust pressing the bulge in your stomach up, forcing you to feel just how deep he was.

“my perfect girl,” he muttered, his thumb stroking over the bulge as he thrust up again, making you gasp as he pressed even deeper. “don’t know how you’re doing it—but you’re handling me so good.”

your gaze was fixed on him—his dark hair fanned across the pillow, those lust-filled eyes glued to you—and that was all it took to tip you over the edge. a high-pitched moan tore from your throat as you came undone, your release spilling over his toned torso with a wet splash. his lips curled into a soft smile, cooing softly as he ran a hand up your back.

"there you go, baby,” he murmured, clearly pleased. but he wasn’t done—not even close. without missing a beat, he snapped his hips up with renewed intensity, filling the room with the sharp, wet slap of skin meeting skin as he drove himself deeper, faster.

“ah—ahh!” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath as he continued thrusting into you, your entire body jolting with every movement. you clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his shoulders as your own noises slipped from you uncontrollably, each one blending with the rhythmic smack, smack of his hips crashing into you.

drooling onto his chest, your mouth was parted, and you could only manage breathy whimpers as he buried himself to the hilt again and again. he pressed a hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer with each upward thrust, his own low, satisfied groans mixing with the wet, messy sounds of your bodies.

“god, listen to you,” he praised, his voice a raspy murmur against your ear. “taking me so well, baby… just like that.”

as his pace quickened, you felt his hand slip between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive, swollen clit with an expert touch. “c’mon, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice thick with need as he began flicking and circling your clit, drawing out a gasp from deep within you. he kept up the rhythm, each touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as he held you close, his thrusts hitting deeper, rougher.

“ngh—sugu!” you cried out, feeling the wave build impossibly fast under his touch. he watched with dark, focused eyes, his fingers relentless as he teased you, bringing you closer with every flick and press of his thumb.

“that’s it, let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice low and soothing, his own movements becoming ragged as he teetered on the edge. you couldn’t help it—the pleasure overwhelmed you, crashing down in a shuddering, breathless release, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as you clenched tightly around him.

“fuck, baby—” he groaned, his hips jerking as he finally let go, filling you up with a deep, satisfied growl as he spilled inside, his release warm and thick, making you shudder with each pulse. his fingers slowed, soothing your overstimulated clit with gentle strokes, holding you close as both of you caught your breath, wrapped up in the lingering warmth of each other.

still buried deep inside you, suguru looked down, his gaze darkening as he noticed the little trickle of his release escaping from where your bodies were joined. he tutted softly, his fingers trailing down to scoop up the creamy slick before bringing his hand up to your lips. his eyes held a playful glint, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tilted his head.

“we can’t be wasting anything, can we, baby?” he murmured, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, pressing gently until your lips parted. “open up for me… there you go.”

obediently, you parted your lips, his fingers sliding in, and you wrapped your mouth around them, tasting the faint saltiness of him as he watched you intently. his fingers moved slowly, pushing just a little deeper as you sucked gently, your tongue swirling around each digit, savoring the warmth of his release. his breath hitched, and his other hand tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“good girl,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “can always count on you to take care of me.”

coming up next . . . soft & anniversary sex ! starring sukuna ryomen and nanami kento ♰ — comment to be added to taglist ♡

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gojoest · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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kesujo · 5 months ago

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Obsessed

“Yo, you never told me you got a girl!”

“What are you—give that back! Who said you could look at my messages?”

“No no no, first explain this: ‘did you eat yet?’, ‘are you coming home late today?’, ‘who was that girl you were eating with?’—” You snatch the phone out of your friend’s hands, but he still recites the last message to you, “‘I’m sorry I couldn’t see you today. I miss you~’—”

Your heart skips a beat. “That’s—my aunt.”

“Yeah right—”

“She’s just been concerned for me after hearing that I moved out of my parents’ house recently.”

“…Is your relative a stalker?”

It’s a bad excuse and you know it, but that’s all you are willing to give your friend. After all, there is no way he will be more willing to accept the truth. Hell, you aren’t even sure you are more willing to accept the truth to even the flimsy, half-assed explanation you just provided him.

“You got a real cougar of an aunt.”

“No, she’s—” trying to conceal the actual message sender as your aunt is probably a futile effort, especially with that last message, but telling Beomgyu the truth is absolutely out of the question. “—she’s just worried for me.”

Your friend rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Not my problem if you’re not ready to reveal your relationship to even your best friend yet.”

“You know what, you’re free to believe whatever you wanna believe. I don’t care enough to try to change your mind.” That’s only partially true. What matters isn’t that Beomgyu thinks you have a girlfriend, but if he knows the identity of the girl in question. It’s a good thing you had the foresight to save her number with an innocuous name.

“You aren’t seriously going to tell me that you’re close enough to your aunt that you just call her ‘Ji’, do you?” Ok, maybe the name isn’t that innocuous.

“I was in a rush, ok? Plus, it doesn’t even matter what I save the names as, all that matters is I know who the number is.”

“Wait, what do you have me saved as?”

“‘Beom’.”

“Hmm…”

Beomgyu only pesters you half of the remaining meal, thankfully not catching the occasional glancing around of the restaurant you did. Maybe it’s paranoid of you, especially since it’s a normal weekday evening in a relatively crowded place, but you want to be on your toes at all times.

“Hey, you’re coming golfing with us next week, right?”

“We’ll see.”

“Date with your girl?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not a date with ‘my girl’. I’ll just have to see if I wanna go on the day.”

“Right.” The two of you stop at the intersection. “Well, have fun on your date.”

“It’s not a—” seeing the smirk on Beomgyu’s face makes you sigh. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll have fun on my ‘date’.”

Not a few steps after you separate from him, an all-too-familiar voice whispers into your ear, “You’re going on a date?”

You try not to jump out of your skin as she wraps her arm around yours while seamlessly falling in perfect step with you. The playful manner in which she leans against you is sharply juxtaposed by the sharp, very pointedly upset tone she asked the question with.

You knew you weren’t paranoid to suspect she was nearby. But … where was she? You swear you did a pretty thorough visual sweep of the restaurant without landing on anyone who even remotely resembled her. Unless … did she wait outside the restaurant?

“No, I’m not—”

“Hey, kiss me first, or else people will get suspicious.”

“No, they won’t—” don’t get flustered, don’t get flustered, “—what are you talking about?”

You turn an exasperated expression towards Yu Jimin, who is shooting you a playful grin. However, as exasperated as you sound, your heart is beating a million times a minute. This isn’t even your first, or even tenth, encounter with her, but every single one is still as nerve-wracking as the last. “You never know.”

“I think I do, from the fact that you still somehow haven’t been exposed as an avid stalker of mine.”

“Never mind that,” In an instant, her expression changes, the playful grin disappearing from her face, “what about this date Beomgyu was talking about?” The duality of the two expressions makes your heart beat even faster, although this time for a slightly different reason.

“There’s no—” Have you ever introduced Beomgyu to Karina? Hell, have you ever even mentioned Beomgyu to her? “—date…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then…” Suddenly, her voice turns bashful. She slows down a bit, forcing you to do the same. “…do you want one?”

This is way too ridiculous. Truth is stranger than fiction, so they said. You don’t know who this ‘they’ character is, but you can’t agree more with that seemingly absurd statement.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make myself free.”

“Don’t go pushing back another photoshoot or choreography practice for this.”

“…But it was definitely worth it…”

You scoff. “How?”

“Well, I got this picture of you!”

You look over and down at her phone to see what seemed like a perfectly normal picture of you standing between a few bookshelves at your local library looking down at the book in your hands. “That’s … it?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?!” You jump at the sudden peaking of her voice, hurriedly looking around to make sure she hadn’t drawn any more attention than she needed to before turning back to her. “Look at how hot you look when you’re serious!”

You have absolutely no idea what Karina sees in you. As far as you’re concerned, you’re a perfectly normal guy. You aren’t even particularly good-looking, having only ever been in one relationship that lasted only the last year of high school. You’ve asked her before, and she said something about you ‘being her white knight in shining armor’ and how you had saved her in a ‘manga-like way’, but honestly, you have no recollection of such an event.

“Right…”

“I used this picture for at least two weeks straight.”

“You ‘used’…?” It doesn’t mean what you think it means. To save your own heart, you have to believe that. Otherwise… “By the way, you aren’t going to be following me all the way home, are you?” You pose the question already expecting an answer, so when she decides instead to remain quiet, you turn to her and follow up with, “…Are you?”

“…Can’t I?”

“What?” Breathe. Don’t panic. Be logical. And stop thinking about that. This is a bad thing. “No!” You make sure to manage the volume of your voice before continuing. “Of course not! Call your manager or something,” you hiss at her.

“Why nooot?”

Her pouting almost makes you cave, admit defeat, and agree to lead her back to your apartment. But… “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?”

“Well, nothing happened, right?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. You hastily shove aside the memory of what exactly happened last time. “Yeah, and we should be thankful that nothing happened.” When she doesn’t respond for another bit, you turn to her to see her cheeks slightly flushed. “Um…?”

“You said ‘we’.”

God, Karina is just so damn adorable.

“Jimin, I’m being serious here.” It turns out, that was the wrong play—whatever you said makes her flush even harder. “Now what?”

“You said my name~”

The exhale you let out contains a mixture of exasperation, sheer bewilderment, and most of all, a mask to hide how flustered you are. Her fangirling squeals are just too adorable to not smile at, so the best you can do to mask that is to turn your head away from her and shake your head.

“Look, I don’t want to be the one to call your manager again. So either you make the call, or I do.”

“Wait, no, just for a little bit!”

“That’s what you said last time, wasn’t it?”

“It’ll—”

“It’s not worth risking it. You have your entire idol career ahead of you, and I’m just some random nobody.”

“You aren’t a nobody!”

You nearly flinch at how loudly she asserts that. “Ka—shh, not so loud!” You have to whisper to her after Karina’s latest outburst draws the attention of some passersby.

“I won’t let you say you’re a nobody, ok?”

At that, a smile breaks out on your face. “Ah, right, ok, fine. Still, no matter who I am, it’s not worth it.”

“But—” she leans in close, an action that causes your already sky-high heartrate to shoot straight through the roof, “—that’s not what you said while you were destroying my pussy last time.”

Shit.

You had been hard at work trying to hold that memory at bay ever since Karina brought up the idea of returning to your apartment with you. The incident had shaken you up even more than that one time you nearly got run over by a car on your way back home from a college party; as if the idea that one of your favorite idols obsesses this hard over you isn’t fantastical enough, the idea that you had sex with her is on a whole other level of absurdity and fantasy that you frankly didn’t think collided with the real world.

“What are you saying out loud in public?” you reprimand her in a hushed voice.

“Don’t you want—”

Not knowing another way to silence the salacious celebrity, you tug at her arm to bring her closer to you so that you covering her mouth with your hand isn’t as obvious. “Please, please, not in public. People are already starting to look at us.” The subtle, tart, slightly fruity perfume you love wafts into your nose, the warmth of her body pressing up against you, a certain softness pressing against your chest, everything combined nearly drives you insane and even makes you a bit light-headed—but however flustered pulling the top-tier beauty close to you makes you, Karina herself is even more flustered. The tips of her ears are bright pink, as if she had dyed them a different color for some type of cosplay, her full, red lips spread out in a wide smile directed at her own feet, cheeks bulging out like a cute little squirrel trying to store a few too many acorns in her cheeks.

She’s too adorable. And beautiful. Holy shit is she gorgeous.

That’s the last indulgent thought of her you allow yourself to have before taking out your phone again. “I’m gonna call your manager now, ok?”

“Wait, noo~”

You pull away from her upon noticing how many more glances you two are starting to get, resuming your walk, this time to your apartment. At this rate, it seems like it’s only a matter of time before Karina is noticed, and if it’s a question between getting caught in public attached to the arm of some random guy and dealing with her in your apartment for the few minutes it took her manager to pick her up, the answer is obvious. All you have to do is to be more resilient than last time.

Part of you wonders if this is all your fault. Maybe your wishy-washy reactions to her behavior is what enables her continued stalking of you. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so receptive to all her advances, she would’ve eventually stopped this unhealthy, this dangerous habit.

“Are we going to your apartment now?”

“How—” you stop yourself short of asking the question. Previously, you were just randomly walking about with the express intent of not bringing her back to your place. How Karina instantly picked up on that fact right as you changed your mind is a question you probably don’t even want an answer to.

“Wait, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“…What?”

You watch her suddenly stop and pull out her phone to fix her bangs in utter bewilderment before promptly pulling her hastily along, whispering to her, “You can do that at my place. Do you want to be spotted?”

“But my bangs are so messy right now, I can’t go to your home looking like this…”

“But—” you stop for a brief second to look at her bangs. What about them looks messy? You shake the thought from your mind. “—what? But you were the one who suggested it in the first place.”

“I know, but…”

“Never mind, we should hurry.”

You’re avidly keeping your gaze forward, trying your best to shake off the feeling that the two of you are attracting the eyes of every single stranger you walk past. ‘Is that Karina?’, ‘What is she doing with him?’, ‘Is she secretly dating?’ – you don’t think you hear any particular voice whispering these words, but it manifests in your mind so strongly that it takes every ounce of your willpower to not turn your head and direct an accusatory gaze at every person you walk past. You’re too scared to pay closer attention to your surroundings anyway: what if you are actually right and people are identifying Karina? You figure hoping and praying that your paranoia remains just that is your best bet; after all, what else can you do? The rest of the walk home feels like the longest ten minutes of your life: with each minute that passes, you feel more and more antsy, and every pair of friends that walks past you two, your grip on Karina’s hand tightens, ready to bolt if they turn around to address her. It isn’t until you close the door to your apartment that you let out a breath of relief.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m in your apartment again!”

“Um, by the way…” Karina stops turning around whimsically like she’s a Disney Princess to look at you, causing a heap of self-consciousness for the question you want to ask to suddenly pile on. Is she going to get offended? To be fair, you had looked everywhere—the complex’s lost-and-found, under your bedframe, behind all the washing and drying machines, and still couldn’t find them.

“Hm?”

“Um—” Is this even important? Why are you asking this again? But as the seconds tick by, the pressure from her expectant gaze builds inside your head, like the staticky white noise from an old TV filling your mind. So, you steel your nerves and continue anyway, “—did you, by chance, steal some of my socks? The last time you were here?”

“Hmm?”

While her response is perfectly neutral, it still gives you cold feet. It is a good thing if this resulted in Karina being offended—you know that rationally, but emotionally, you don’t know if you can take knowing that one of your favorite idols hates you.

“My socks.” On the flip side, they aren’t even that important. Will she even find offense from your implication? This had been a mystery that bit at you for the past few weeks, and this is a chance to rid yourself of that nuisance. “Did you steal them last time you were here?”

“Socks? Hm…”

However, the more she ponders, the surer you become of your theory. “Uh…” at that revelation, you realize you don’t know what to feel. “Well, I mean, it doesn’t really matter, I guess…”

“Oh, really?!”

The amount of happiness and relief in Karina’s voice all but vaporizes any doubt in your mind that the culprit behind the mismatching socks in your drawer is, indeed, her. “They’re just socks, I can always get new ones, but, um, yeah.” Are you supposed to be honored that Karina even had the desire to steal your socks? Or is the appropriate reaction feeling creeped out that she stole them? Is there even an ‘appropriate reaction’ to your situation?

“In that case…” Karina sits down on the hardwood floor of the half-living room and as she reaches for her feet, your eyes land on the definitive proof that she was, indeed, the sock thief.

“Hey!”

“I was in such a rush the last time I didn’t check to see if they were matching, but now I wear them every time I come see you,” she explained, pulling them off her feet and showing them to you. “Can I trade one of them for the matching pair?”

��Why—you—how—” your brain is short-circuiting in its struggle to come up with a reasonable response, “—is it really—I mean—what—why?” You feel like a complete and utter idiot, but the visual proof of this ridiculous conspiracy theory you had concocted that had no right to hold a single drop of water throws you for a loop.

“They make me feel so much closer to you, and they’re also a souvenir from the first time I came here.”

Being reminded of that causes your face to explode like a steaming kettle, which incidentally also reminds you to message her manager. “Fine, you can go to my bedr—wait, no, actually, I’ll get the matching pair.” Halfway to your bedroom, you stop. What are you doing? Why are you interacting so much with your stalker? And why are you giving her your sock? “Actually, wait.” Turning around proves to be a mistake, as you are met with a giddy, excited Karina who is in the process of standing back up, and with her form-hugging outfit no longer hidden by her body-length trench coat, your brain malfunctions for a second.

“Hm?”

Shit. Don’t get distracted. This is why she’s still like this.

“Um, sorry, nothing—no, I mean, can you just give me back my socks?”

Karina frowns, taking a step back. “No!”

“Wha—” How are you even supposed to respond in this kind of a situation? Rationally, the answer is to report her to the police. But this is Karina of æspa. If news got out that she’s stalking someone, her reputation would go down the gutter and her career as an idol would suffer, and that is not something you want. “Um, please?”

“Then trade me something of equal value.”

“What? No, they’re my socks.”

“But I need them!”

It’s so difficult to argue with Karina, especially when her pouting lips, her drawn together eyebrows, her puppy dog eyes, everything about her is this adorable. “You need them…? For what?”

“They comfort me whenever I don’t get to see you for a long time.”

Honestly, you still don’t even know if you are dreaming. In a way, the only plausible explanation for how bizarre this conversation is that this is all a dream. “So, what do you want in exchange?”

“Maybe…”

Wait. Why are you offering to trade? Those socks are yours. You need to be harder on her, and not in that way. “Wait, no. Can I just have them back, please?”

“Another picture?”

“Really? Well—wait, no.” Damn it, why is it so easy to give in to her requests? “Don’t you have a lot of pictures of me already?”

“But I don’t have one of us together!”

You sigh, mostly to hide your embarrassment at the idea of taking a picture with Karina. It’s weird: one might think the relatively frequent close contact and interactions with the famous popstar trivializes the prospect of taking pictures with her, holding her hand, or even being near her, but it somehow doesn’t. “I need to text your manager first, give me a second.”

“Noo, doon’t~” You dodge her attempt to swipe your phone from you.

You’ve had meetings with your boss’s boss before, but this text message feels somehow even more anxiety-inducing. Karina is a top idol in the entertainment industry, and you are pretty much just an entry-level employee at some consulting agency: the worlds you live in can’t be more different. This isn’t about yourself or your anxiety, though: it’s about Karina and what’s best for her. It takes you barely a minute to send the text, by which time Karina has already given up trying to stop you.

“Well, now what?”

“We wait—” you divert your eyes as soon as they land on her shapely figure, outlined very nicely by the tight clothes she had chosen to wear that day, “—for your manager.”

“Well, what should we do while we wait?” The low, husky, seductive tone of voice sends a shudder up your spine.

“Nothing.”

That single word is all that you trust yourself to say before you escape to your bedroom, hoping she didn’t see the erection you tried hiding from her, and close the door before she has the chance to follow. “Just keep the socks, and please don’t steal anything else. I have, um, something to do.”

“Come on, we have a few minutes at least, right?”

You sink against the door, sitting on the other side of the closed wooden frame. You close your eyes and hold your head in your hands. Just plant your bum on the floor and your back against this door. That’s all you have to do.

“I bet I could get you to cum down my throat before I have to leave.”

The next moment, you find yourself back on your feet with your hands tightening around the doorknob. It’s that very moment that you freeze for a brief second. Whatever mystical force saves you from ripping the door from its hinges, whether it’s your inner conscious or God Himself, you thank it.

“Karina, please, just … wait there, ok?”

When there’s no response from the celebrity, you breathe a sigh of relief, going to your bed and plopping yourself down on it. A few seconds later, your phone buzzes—and you, without thinking, whip it out to open the message.

It’s a picture of Karina, devoid of all clothing, on your couch, the camera looking down at her with a packaged condom hanging out between her upward curling lips. Twin pairs of hardened nubs stood proudly away from her delectably bountiful bosom, her other hand buried between her milky white thighs.

“Fuck—” You recoil, nearly dropping the phone. The thing is, it isn’t even the first nude you had received from her, or even the fifth, but every time you had to fight the demons in your brain telling you to save it. And seeing that silver square dangling between those beautiful, soft, full, red lips refreshes the memory of the previous encounter: how amazing her lips felt, how unreal it felt to see Karina rolling the condom onto your cock … even the very fact she had one, hinting at either her intentions for today or that she’s always prepared tested the limits of your patience and self-control. What makes that worse is the teasing, playful message she sends with the erotic selfie: ‘Now do you wanna come out?~’

You shake your head, gritting your teeth and stalling for way too long before pushing your finger against the ‘delete’ button.

Yu Jimin, Karina, the leader of æspa, the object of lust and desire for men all over Korea—all over the world too, probably—who can’t even walk to the grocery store without dozens of articles and thousands of fans singing praises about how unrealistically gorgeous she is and how amazing her body’s proportions are, is in your apartment, sitting on your couch, fully naked. Touching herself.

What kind of insane are you to deny the open invitation to fuck her into next Tuesday?

‘Please stop doing that. It’s dangerous.’

After another solid minute of trying (and failing) to calm yourself down, you send the message. Even though the picture already vanished from your phone, the image is still so fresh in your mind you seriously consider jerking out a quick one.

‘If you want me to stop, then why don’t you come out here and make me?’

It goes without saying, but tugging your meat while you have a guest is terrible manners. Even if said smoking hot guest, who happens to be a stalker of yours, sends a second nude picture, this time with her legs spread further apart and the packaged condom resting on her thigh, a seductively winking at the camera while puckering those luscious, cherry lips of hers for the camera. Faintly, you swear you see a slight discoloring at the very intersection of her legs her hands are placed inside.

All you have to do is plant your face against your mattress and do nothing. Her manager is on her way. And when she arrives, the temptress will be taken away, and this increasingly daunting task, of giving in to sin, will similarly be whisked away.

But even with your eyes closed, the image of her beautifully soft curves you swear you can feel in the palms of your hands is burned in the backsides of your eyelids. Tempting as she is, sinful as she is, you stay glued to the bed. Remember what happened last time. A repeat of that is something I needed to avoid at all costs.

When your phone next buzzes, you ignore it. Even so, you can feel the tantalizing, magnetic pull of that phone, drawing your fingers to the phone’s screen to unlock it, like a siren singing out to a stuffy ship full of men who’ve had to sleep shoulder-to-shoulder with their compatriots.

“Are you really not coming out?”

Even her voice, alluring and captivating as it is, nearly peels you off your mattress like a true siren and to your bedroom door. But all you have to do is remember the repercussions from last time, the hell you went through, how much stress and anxiety you had during those few weeks, something you never brought up to Karina nor plan on ever doing. She stalks you like it’s her second job, but she is still your idol—you want her to be happy, and telling her the turmoil you underwent in part due to her definitely works against that goal.

In fact … would it make her so unhappy that she stopped stalking you?

“But last—” as you begin speaking, your throat closes, as if someone had magically taken away your ability to speak. As much as you can claim to not know why that is, saying so is to lie. Why you again and again fail to take decisive action to push Karina away, why your actions clash so much with your logical and rational thinking, is all very simple.

Logically, perhaps even morally, you know getting Karina to stop obsessing over you is the right thing to do, and all actions towards that goal ought to be taken. But … do you want that? Now that you know how it feels to have the attention of the idol you spent so much of your money and time on, going back to your boring old life is completely out of the question. You know that this isn’t good for Karina, especially because she’s an idol, but in the depths of your heart, you love how much she obsesses over you: as initially jarring it was to learn about the hundreds of photos she had of you, as startling it was to have her throw herself on you randomly as you walked down the street, all the attention she gives you and specifically you is… frankly, addictive. Sometimes, you wonder if Karina is more addicted to you than you to her.

“Hm?”

In the end, you plant yourself back onto your bed, saying, “Nothing.” You will do everything in your power to maintain the status quo. Attempting to deviate too far from it proved to be disastrous, so all you have to do is keep things the way it is. Stalker or not, keeping a healthy amount of distance is probably for the best, as idol and fan. That’s why you’ve never really asked her if she has romantic feelings for you. Ever since you found out that Karina has been stalking you, it’s been like this: Karina jumping over and over into the fires of controversy, and you barely being able to catch her and pull her away each time. You had already failed once, and you don’t intend to fail again—after all, if anything happens, it means that your time with Karina will come to an end.

Your time with Karina, or as a normal person might call it, ‘Karina stalking you’.

You always had the impression that most stalkers were mentally unwell. What, then, of a person who loves being stalked?

“Are you really going to pass up on—” A knock at the door interrupts her, and seeing that your most recent text is from Karina’s manager, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“That’s your manager. Better get going.”

A whine, and then, “Fine. But, if you ever—”

“Have a good day, Karina.”

Part of the reason you cut her off is to save yourself, as you don’t know if you can hear her utter another erotic word and maintain your self-control. The other is to, metaphorically, push her out the door. It’s only after a few seconds that you realize how curt you sounded, but there’s nothing that can be done at that point: maybe Karina taking it personally will be what’s best for her.

But the guilt makes you open the door regardless. “Hey, um—” By the time your eyes land back on Karina, she’s already putting on her coat. Her manager is also inside, standing at the doorway.

“Hi again, I’m so sorry for this, I’ll make sure to properly reprimand her.”

“Oh, it’s ok. As long as Karina’s safe, that’s all that matters.”

Her manager flashes a look of appreciation and empathy, turning back to her managee to say, “How many times have I told you to leave this poor man alone? Do you want to be all over the news tomorrow?”

“But you know how good I am at avoiding the press.”

“You can’t—” her manager sighs, turning to face you after opening the door one last time and saying, “—thank you so much for messaging me, I promise I’ll try to keep Karina on a tighter leash and cause you less trouble.”

You can’t very well say ‘it’s ok’ again, can you? It isn’t normal to simply be ok with this type of behavior, and you don’t want to give any hints to anyone at the deepest depths of your psyche, that you actually love that Karina is this obsessed with you. “Thank you,” is all you could muster. The last glance you share with Karina is all you need to know that you emerging from your bedroom was unnecessary after all; you were ready to give the excuse that you opened the door to let her manager in and apologize for being so cold in the meantime, but seeing her eyes beaming a smile at you reassures you that saying so isn’t needed.

You try to forget about it the rest of the day; when it comes time to sleep, however, no matter how hard you close your eyes and attempt to clear your mind, you can’t drift off. You had actually made it a point to try to avoid the couch, but your curiosity ultimately got the best of you: still, no matter how hard you looked, you still couldn’t find that one discolored patch you could’ve sworn you saw in the second picture. Not that you’re too upset about it or anything.

You probably need to wash those cushions soon.

You turn over, letting out another sigh.

God damn it, might as well.

After a quick few minutes, exhaustion takes ahold of you and darkness overtakes your conscious. When you next awaken, it’s still dark. You aren’t one to wake up much in the middle of the night, but even taking that fact into consideration isn’t the most startling thing. That belongs to the reason you had awoken: namely, the figure at the foot of your bed.

You dart a half-upright position. “What the fu —”

“It’s me.”

The shock is enough to blow away your sluggishness, but the voice clears your head of all the just-woke-up confusion and any semblance of drowsiness. “Ka … rina?”

As your eyes adjust to the dim light of your darkened bedroom, they land on the beaming smile she offers you. “Yeah!”

“What the hell—” you understand you should be more shaken, perhaps even terrified to some extent, but neither emotion wells up inside you. You know the ‘normal’ reaction is to be terrified of the person who broke into your house in the middle of the night, but some combination of being used to Karina being places she really shouldn’t be and having fantasized about this exact scenario before drifting off instead causes a burgeoning elation and excitement to bubble to the surface. “—what are you doing here?”

“Well, we have more time now, right?”

You sit up fully on your bed. “No. No, no no no.” Those emotions aren’t something you can let Karina know about, though. Maintaining the status quo and all. Who knows how she might react if she finds out your true feelings about her obsession with you? “What time is it right now?”

“Um, about 3am?”

“3—Go home! Get some sleep! What about your schedule for tomorrow?”

“No, tomorrow—today, actually, I have nothing.”

“Wha—” you stammer for a few seconds, your brain overloading with all the millions of questions and thoughts you have but unable to pick one. It eventually lands on the most obvious one. “—how did you even get in?”

“Your spare key.”

“My spare—” the spare key you left in your kitchen drawer, you imagine is what she’s talking about. She must’ve found it while you had locked yourself in your bedroom.

In the nude? Was she walking around your apartment completely naked?

You shake your head, clearing the thought from your mind. “—um, can you give that back?”

“Aww, whyy~?”

Karina claims to be bad at doing aegyo, but why is she so damn adorable when she whines and pouts like that?

“Please?”

“Then, I’ll trade you.”

The first time you tried to resist her trade offer that day—the previous day, technically—it failed spectacularly. It’s ridiculous to have to trade to acquire something that was stolen from you, but you understand she isn’t going to give it back so easily. “Fine. For what?”

“The spare key…” a mischievous glint in her eyes is noticeable even in the dark. The pit of your stomach drops upon seeing it. “…for—”

“No.” You cut her off before she can finish. Seeing that expression in her eyes is evidence enough of what her next word will be. And hearing that word coming from her mouth is the last thing you need at the moment: your heart is beating ten million miles a minute, your attempt to mask it with a cold, emotionless response being your only barrier between the status quo and Karina’s desires.

“How amazing your cock felt stirring up my insides was something I couldn’t forget.” Unfortunately, that barrier is a flimsy piece of paper and Karina is a barreling, runaway train. “How about you? Do you remember how my pussy felt?”

“No, please, Karina—”

She throws aside your blanket and seats herself on the edge of your bed, tenderly placing a hand on your leg. “Are you sure?”

Your breath hitches at that slight bit of contact. It’s ridiculous; after all the close-quarters contact you’ve had with her, after having had sex with her, you still act like a pure maiden at even the slightest bit of physical contact. “Karina, I’m serious. You need to go home, before I have to contact your manager—”

“With what phone?” Your eyes bulge out upon seeing the phone Karina is waving at you—your phone.

“Give that back—” you swipe at her hand but miss, the phone being pulled out of your grasp just in time. “—Karina…”

“How about this: I find out if you actually remember last time, and if I find out that you’re telling the truth, then I’ll give you back your phone.”

“No! It’s my phone—” the tips of your ears burst in a cloud of steam when you feel Karina’s hand slide up your leg, getting closer to the erection that you hope the dark veil of the night is adequately hiding. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continue, “—can I please have it back?”

“Then you shouldn’t be afraid to let me check, should you?”

That is something you need to avoid at all costs. “Damn it, Jimin.” You lurch forward, grabbing one arm while the other reaches past her and snatches the phone from her hand. “You can’t just—” Why was that so easy? Was she not resisting—

Turning to make eye contact with her, her face mere centimeters from your own, turns out to be the worst possible thing you could’ve done in that situation.

In an instant, Karina is laying down on the bed you were sleeping on just moments ago, her hips straddled by your legs.

“J-Jong—!”

“You goddamn slut.” The words come out of your mouth before you can even fully process what you had just done to her. It feels like you are being possessed by some kind of carnal beast, but you don’t even know if you hate it. After all, being the passenger to this beast lets you see the mixture of red-eared embarrassment and lip-quivering, eye-twinkling lust of the one who had awakened it. On the stage, Karina dominated the cameras and the audience with her powerful stage presence, but in bed, you dominate her with a mere touch. The normally charismatic popstar is reduced to nothing but a whimpering, wanton woman by your fingers. “Breaking into my apartment in the dead of a night for a booty call?”

Seeing the arousal deepen in Karina’s eyes and seeing her legs squeeze together in your peripheral vision invigorates the beast. “I-I’m sorry…”

Your first time in this very bed flashes in your mind: how she obeyed your every whim, the submissive way she responded after you had thrown away all semblance of consideration for her when your lust reached a breaking point, how she shifted from demanding to demure the instant you used any kind of force on her—“I gotta wake up in a few hours for work, how are you gonna make that up to me?”—the feeling you got after fucking her for the first time, how learning that Karina was a power bottom made you even more addicted to Karina than you had already been, it all came to a head at that very moment.

“I’ll—I’ll relieve all your stress.”

With how forceful Karina is normally, you sometimes wonder if your interpretation of the singer at the time was correct. Maybe you were taken by the moment, or maybe she was just putting up an act?

“Channel the frustration you feel that your boss only ever assigns you too many or not enough tasks, the annoyance you feel that your favorite ramen place is closed due to construction, the disappointment and concern that your stocks haven’t been doing well recently…”

But seeing her laying below you, chest heaving and eyes sparkling with excitement, you know that you were right on the mark.

“Vent out all your pent-up emotions into me.”

You don’t seem to care how she knows about your grievances with your work, your favorite ramen place being closed, or your stock portfolio; all you seem to care about is the beautiful platter Karina is serving herself to you with.

“This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” Now that you are sufficiently close, you can see that her outfit is decidedly different than what she had been wearing before; while the previous outfit showed off her curves beautifully as it was, the top she is wearing now shows so much cleavage, it leaves practically nothing to the imagination. It might’ve been a trick of the light, but you swear you can see little bumps where her nipples should be through the clothing. “You came here with half your tits exposed like this?”

“No, I took off my coat.”

Your eyes briefly glance to the side, quickly finding a rather thick leather coat laying on the floor next to the bed.

“That’s it?” Karina nods. “And you didn’t even, for a second, think about what would happen to you if some drunk guy saw you with such a slutty outfit on?”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“What if someone saw this sorry excuse for clothes you have—” your fingers curl around the deep neckline of the top and pull it down, causing her bountiful bosom to pop out. You’ve seen them plenty of times already, in person once and in pictures numerous times, but every time you are completely enthralled by them. Watching the perfectly round, plush mounds bounce around a few times in a triumphant cry out for their freedom, zeroing in on the palm-sized light pink areola surrounding her even pinker nipples, swollen and erect and begging to be squeezed— “and decided they wanted to have their way with you?”

Karina doesn’t respond with an apology, but with a moan, in response to your hands taking the hefty mounds of fat and rolling its marshmallowy texture in your knuckles. You had never been with a woman so well-endowed and had no idea they could be this fun to knead and roll until the last time you had this pleasure.

“You’re an idol, have some degree of self-preservation, wouldn’t you?”

The seriousness of the concern dissipates with every squeeze and every roll of her nipples between your fingers. “J-Jong…”

“Is that even a concern? Maybe you’d like that, being bent over some random alleyway, taking some stranger’s cock inside your pussy?”

Just the thought of that makes you tense up, causing Karina to yelp at the sudden pinch you give to her nipples. “N-No! I only want yours!”

You can feel your manhood straining against your boxers, a well of lust and desire stirring up inside you. As repulsive as the thought of Karina being raped is, some sick part of you decides it’s also hot, adding self-directed rage to the hodgepodge of confusing emotions inside you. “Do you even know how fucking irresistible you are?”

Karina shakes her head, perhaps sensing the bits of frustration and worry in your voice. “N—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that…”

“Then what were you thinking?”

Although her eyes were downcast with guilt, her cheeks were still flushed, breath hitching at every kneading and massaging motion of your hands on her tits. “I—I was just, I was just really horny and wanted to feel you between my legs and messing my insides up so much that I couldn’t think about anything else.”

You of course know the prevalence of stalker fans—sasaeng fans—in KPop. The infamous case of Nayeon’s stalker, who had a delusion that she reciprocated the twisted kind of love he harbored for her, among various other cases, driven by the marketing strategy of the entertainment labels preying on the loneliness of a population of young adults starved for human connection, is all too familiar with you. There seems to be a new story in the news about an idol being harassed by sasaeng fans every week, but it was just that: news. It has as much connection to you as everything else that appears in the news, all the reported murders and celebrity drama and the like. A stalker is as mystical of a person as a serial killer: you know they exist, but you feel like you don’t truly understand the depths of their depravity.

So this is the result of fucking your stalker, huh?

That thought breaks you out of your lustful stupor, a moment of clarity dissipating all the sexual desire building up inside you.

Karina became so horny that she pretty much risked her life, walking out in public in the middle of the night with such a skimpy outfit hidden beneath a single coat, to do this.

“Hm? … What’s wrong?”

Her obsession with me completely disabled her reason and logical thinking. Her, a woman, an idol, did something so brazen and irresponsible and dangerous…

“J-Jong—…what’s wrong?”

…and it’s all my fault. If I didn’t respond so favorably to all her advances, she wouldn’t be doing such stupid, dangerous things.

“Jong—”

“Karina.”

“Hm?!” You pushing yourself off Karina causes her to jump a little, herself following suit and sitting up so that she could better look you in the eye.

“Why did you do something so dangerous?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m serious.” You almost can’t bring yourself to maintain eye contact, but you force yourself to. “You know how dangerous it is for a woman, much less an idol, to be walking around in the middle of the night, right?”

Karina, undergoing serious whiplash from the prurient way you were speaking to the dangerously calm and serious tone you’re using, stammers helplessly. Eventually, she lands on, “…I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m sorry.”

“You need to. Your safety is always the most important thing.”

“I know—”

“As your fan, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I read in the news that you were assaulted while walking around in the middle of the night. And it would be even worse if I realized it was because you were walking to my apartment.” That last bit is an indulgent, selfish thing to say, you realize that, but you can’t help it. Perhaps if you make it about yourself, Karina will absorb what you’re trying to say better.

“…I’m sorry…”

Hearing her soft, defeated response and seeing the clear guilt in her eyes shatters your heart a little. “Damn it,” you mutter to yourself, sighing and turning your eyes back onto her, “Karina, I…” You wonder if this is what being Karina’s manager feels like. At times, it feels like you care more about her reputation as an idol than she does herself, and that’s very worrying. It’s this one thing lingering in the back of your mind that prevents you from fully enjoying the ridiculous situation the two of you are in. As many benefits there are to being Karina’s obsession, as much as you love the attention Karina gives you, in your heart of hearts, you know this can only end one of two ways: either Karina gets discovered as a stalker of one of her fans and suffers serious and irreparable damage to her reputation, or you push her away and she ends up hating you. The third option is that she gets tired of stalking you, which, with respect to everything that’s happened, seems the least likely scenario to occur. And, when you think about that, you sometimes end up wishing that this whole situation never happened: because you don’t have the strength of mind to do what it takes to get Karina to stop, but in doing so, are enabling her to continue ruining her life.

“…I don’t think—”

“If I promise to start prioritizing my safety, can you reward me?”

“Uh—” to be honest, something like this doesn’t fall within your expectations. “Um…” but, if you are to enable Karina in any way, then shouldn’t you use this power for her own good, whenever possible? “…Yeah.”

Karina beams at you. “Ok! Then, for every week I stay out of trouble with the media, I get one reward from you.”

You don’t know where this is going, but if Karina pulling her top back up and over her bosom is any indication, it doesn’t mean what you think it might mean. “…‘Reward’…?”

Instead of answering right away, Karina swings her leg to the other side of your body, and before you know it, Karina is straddling your lap. “You.”

So, it was what I was thinking.

You feel your heart revving back up. “But—” she pauses. “—then, every week?”

This causes her to stop and think. “Then, every month?”

Frankly, you don’t really feel like you’re in a situation to say ‘no’. If you do, worse things might happen. “Fine.”

She beams at you. “Great! Now, I’ll be claiming my reward now~”

Wait. What did I just agree to?

“Wai—” a moan interrupts you as Karina’s hand reaches down to cup your growing erection.

Your breath hitches. “You’re hard,” she notes, teasingly, to you.

“Karina…”

“Call me ‘Jimin’.”

“…What?”

“Come on~”

Karina barely has to convince you before you buckle. “Fine, Jimin.” Her jubilant squeal puts a smile on your face.

“Jonghyun!”

The exuberant way she responds with your name, the smile on her lips and in her eyes, how can you not let out a chuckle? “Hm?”

“Jonghyun! Jonghyun, Jonghyun, Jonghyun!”

For a moment, you forget the precarious situation you are in. For a moment, it feels like Karina is your girlfriend, and you two have just taken a step towards deepening your relationship.

“What is it, Jimin?”

When you say her name, her smile grows wider and the slight hue of pink on her cheeks suddenly become noticeable.

“Are you ready, Jonghyun?”

Feeling her palming the tension in your crotch brings you back to reality, in which your favorite idol is straddling your lap, leaning over enough to give you an eyeful of her plunging cleavage while her hands rubs your arousal.

“God…”

Hearing you moan, Jimin’s smile sparkles with a mischievous glint. “Does that feel good, Jonghyun?”

“You know what would make it feel better?”

Without missing a beat, her fingers curl around the hem of your boxers and pulls them down. Out springs your confined penis, which the topless beauty takes a second to marvel at before gingerly wrapping her fingers around the veiny, pulsating shaft.

“It’s so warm…”

You let out a hiss, ecstasy shooting up your spine at the sensation of her soft fingers gently squeezing your cock.

“Fuck, Jimin…”

She slowly begins pumping your member, but more so out of amazement than from a desire to make you feel pleasure. Her eyes are zeroed in on the dick that both of her hands are moving up and down on, her breath deepening as precum begins to leak out of your tip and onto the sides of her index finger.

“Wow, you smell so good…”

You remember her saying that quite often last time and honestly didn’t know what to make of it. You don’t use cologne or ball toner or anything; sure, you make sure to wash and keep your loins relatively clean, but it’s been a while since you shaved down there. What could she possibly like about your scent?

“It’s so hot…”

“Fuck you’re hot.”

Jimin, in a trance-like state, watches her hands pump your cock with such laser-focus that she doesn’t respond to your reply, nor does she react to your feet making contact with her sides. As your erection grows in Jimin’s firm grip, her breathing also deepens, her chest heaving with every increasingly heavy breath she takes. Her tongue occasionally darting out to wet her luscious, red lips, her barely blinking eyes unmoving from your crotch, her hands carefully rubbing your entire length with every pump, the rise and fall of her tits hovering above your legs, the sight of her practically worshipping your cock makes you forget every inhibition you had about this.

“Hmmm…” Your breathing deepens and your arousal grows, but it’s all cut short when she abruptly stops. Before you can question her, she lets out a, “fuck,” under her breath.

You had barely ever heard Jimin swear. Whether it’s because she wants to uphold an image around you, or because of her Catholic upbringing, or for some other reason, even the first time you two fucked, she didn’t swear at all. So, this time, when you hear her swear, you do a double-take, wondering if you’re hearing that correctly.

“Jimin?”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

She suddenly rises up from her crouching position into a kneeling position and pulls her shorts off. The moonlight streaming in the window of your bedroom frames her body perfectly, highlighting the same curves you fantasized about a few hours ago, and crucially, revealing the reason for her sudden explosion of frustration: even in the dim moonlight, you can see that her panties are soaked.

“I need you so bad, Jonghyun.”

In the next second, you’re hovering over her, her legs threaded between your kneeling ones. The intensity of your stare makes Jimin squirm, but you can’t help it: she looks so damn sexy.

“Please, Jonghyun.”

Hearing the plea snaps you out of the daze Jimin’s aroused expression entrapped you in. “So needy.” Your hands go to the intersection of her legs, your index finger tracing the outline of her skimpy underwear. “And so wet.”

It was only a single digit, but it’s enough to make the idol shudder. You can see her body tensing the closer your finger gets to her sex, and feeling that power makes you grin.

“Ooh, oh my…”

Jimin lets out a whine as you lift your drenched index finger off her. As you lift it closer to your face, you see her eyes trained on that finger, so instead, you lean over and offer it to her. Without hesitation, she parts her lips, and you direct that finger into her waiting mouth.

“Fuck…” The feeling of her plump lips wrapping around the base of your finger and her tongue wrapping around its length adds to the sexiness of the sight. “…that’s so fucking hot.” The brief reprieve from earlier had reigned in the beast that had awoken inside you, but now, you can feel a tension building deep within your chest, like a depleting patience meter that would break free the carnal beast’s shackles.

You pull your finger out of her mouth, planting it on her clavicle and running it down her sternum. A silver trail of saliva follows your finger up and around her breasts, an action that causes Jimin to shudder and whine a little bit more, before they find their way back to the panties absolutely drenched in her juices.

“Jonghyun, oh my God…”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Using your Lord’s name in vain?”

Jimin’s eyes go wide, vehemently shaking her head. “No! I’m sorry, I didn’t—” her breath hitches, letting out a yelp as you suddenly press your index and middle finger against the clothed slit. Her entire body jumps, as if an electric current ran through her body.

“Naughty, naughty girl.”

As your two fingers rub against her moist heat, Jimin’s reactions become more erratic, her cries more desperate. “Please, oh my God, Jonghyun!”

“Oh my God, what?”

The more pressure you apply to the damp piece of cloth, the louder Jimin’s moans get. “I-I need you—” she lets out a shrill yelp when your thumb accidentally brushes up against the swollen, sensitive nub sitting atop her labia. “—need you, you, inside!”

You can tell Jimin is slowly losing her mind with your teasing, and honestly, so are you. With every sensual sound the singer emits, with every jerk of her body, you can feel your breath grow heavier and something twisting inside your chest. As much discomfort that twisting gives you, you can’t help but revel in seeing Jimin getting more and more impatient, watching her writhe and wiggle at your every touch. This sense of control and power is something that you thrive on.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Ah, aah!” Jimin’s body tenses up again as your thumb ‘accidentally’ flicks her clothed clit. “Jonghyun, please!”

You’re getting impatient too. Your cock is straining against your waist, so much that it almost hurts, but you continue rubbing her clothed sex with your two digits. The more you hold yourself back, the better the reward is.

“Please what?”

But there’s something else in that.

“Please, please, your—your cock—ah!” Your thumb very purposefully presses her pleasure button, causing a jolt to be sent into Jimin’s body. The grin on your face widens. “—your cock, I need it, need it, inside me!”

The longer you keep her on the edge like this, the more you tease her, the more she’ll want you. The more she’ll savor the feeling of your dick filling her wanting, needing pussy up, and the more obsessed she’ll become with you.

When she begins bucking her hips to meet your fingers, you pull back. “Mm mm~” you say in a teasing, singsong voice. “Naughty girl.” In Jimin’s eyes are desire and lust, even more than before. Your fingers pressing against her undergarments draw out more impatient whines, but this time, her body obediently doesn’t jerk into them. “Tell me how badly you want it.”

“I—I’m, I’m burning up, my whole body is so hot…” she lets out a gasp as your fingers hook around the thin material of her panties, which transforms into something between a sigh and a moan as you push the sopping wet piece of lingerie down her slim, silky-smooth legs. You take a moment to savor that feeling: her leg muscles are toned, but her skin is soft and smooth. Just feeling it against your fingers is paradise, but for Jimin, it only drives her further off the edge. “It—It hurts, Jonghyun, it hurts…”

You snap out of it, stopping immediately to look up at her. “What? Sorry, what hurts?”

Unexpectedly, Jimin’s face turns an even brighter red at the question. “…it.” Her gaze falling on her legs make you, at first, panic even more, thinking she was somehow indicating her discomfort with you taking her panties off. “My … it.” When she repeats those words, you come to realize what she means.

But, just to make sure…

“Your what? What hurts?”

“D-Don’t tease me!”

You hide the grin threatening to spill onto your lips. “If you don’t tell me what hurts, I won’t be able to help you, Jimin.”

“Jonghyun…” You continue pushing the undergarments off her legs, and by the time they make it past her feet, she kicks it off. “…ah, ah, oh my—”

Her voice becomes breathy as you push her legs apart, her voice raising an octave when your fingers rub against her pink folds, sticky from the excess of her honey. You can hear how crazy the direct contact makes Jimin, and it sends you into a frenzy. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” More than being impatient, it isn’t simply a desire anymore: it was a need.

“Jonghyun~” Her back arches when you stick your two longest digits straight into her inferno, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. “Oh!”

“You like that?”

Jimin nods her head fervently, as if possessed by some lascivious ghost. “More!” You can start seeing the sweat gleaming off her brows. “Pl-Please!”

“You love feeling me inside you?”

The fiercer your fingers, the louder Jimin moans, and the more her back arches off the bed, and the harder your dick becomes.

“Yes! Oh my God, yes!”

You can feel how tight her pussy is, even around your two digits, but are still caught off guard when she succumbs to an orgasm after you slam your thumb against her clit.

“Jongh—” the first spurt of liquid sprays onto your wrist, and before you even have the chance to react, the next lands on your face, drawing a diagonal line from your left eye, across your nose, and to your right cheek. “—oh, oh my, oh, fuck!”

The singer continues to spray her nectar all over your arm, torso, face, and neck, convulsing against the bed, her body wracked with an overwhelming ecstasy that causes the bed to creak at the uncontrolled vibration of her body.

“Holy…”

Seeing Jimin’s reaction, you stop for a moment. You aren’t this good … so what caused this? Is this just from all the foreplay you were doing? Or maybe she’s just this horny?

“Ah, ah…” Jimin’s climax begins to subside, her back meeting the bed once again, but far from a look of content washing over her face, her eyes lock onto the rock-hard cock attached at your hips with an insatiable hunger. “Jonghyun…”

You can see the lust lingering in her eyes, even as she basked in the afterglow of her orgasm, and that’s enough to bring you back into it. “Naughty girl. Who said you could cum before me?”

Her breath hitches again as you start aligning your cock to her core, poking at her inner thigh. “I-I’m sorry, oh my…”

“You were so horny, you came from just my fingers.”

“Jonghyun…” The tip of your penis makes contact with the sopping wet sex of the idol singer, causing her to let out another gasp in response. “…oh, oh God…”

“Are you sure you can handle this, then?”

Jimin only answers with encouraging moans, her gaze locked fiercely onto your dick as it nears her entrance. You can feel the tension building inside her, the anticipation in her clenched fists and her curled toes, her lips parted and letting out little puffs of sighs and gasps. When you look up to meet her gaze, it becomes evident she simply didn’t hear you, so laser-focused on your cock that every other sense is rendered inert.

“Can you, Jimin?”

Hearing her name snapped her out of her trance. “Hm? Sorry, what?”

In that brief moment when her concentration shifts is when you strike. Barely able to hold onto your own senses at that point, you let go of every semblance of self-control, mercilessly driving your cock as deep as you can inside her.

The resulting screaming moan erupting from Jimin’s throat is so loud, you’re momentarily snapped out of your lustful stupor in concern for your neighbors. After settling the matter quickly by reconciling the impossibility of identifying Karina of æspa with just a muffled moan, you turn your attention back to the wet, sticky, hot grip Jimin’s pussy is exerting onto your dick.

“Jong—jong—jo-nng, hnng…” her words melt into meaningless sounds and lewd noises the deeper you push yourself into her. You, yourself, feel like you’re melting into her; not even a few seconds in and it already feels like your shaft is being lathered on all sides by some warm, viscous fluid, in thanks both to her prior orgasm and how tightly her drenched walls are hugging your cock. Whereas normally, the slimy feeling on your privates might’ve been repulsive, knowing it’s a product of Jimin’s lust for you turns that into arousal.

“Shit…”

The sight before you is frankly, utterly unbelievable. It’s already unbelievable enough that this isn’t the first time you’ve seen her naked, and it’s even more unbelievable that this isn’t the first time you’re fucking her, but seeing her splayed before you, her eyes shut but her eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted with her tongue threatening to haplessly loll out, the hypnotic swaying motion of her breasts heaving in accordance with her breath, her arm muscles tensed and her fingers curled into tight fists, her beautifully smooth and pale skin illuminated perfectly by the moonlight streaming from the window of your bedroom, her cute belly button and a little further south, in which your cock was firmly wedged between her slim, silky legs, makes you even harder, painfully so. You can feel a familiar sensation welling up deep inside your loins.

“God, fuck, Jimin…”

The pistoning motion of your cock prevents Jimin from forming full words, reduced to letting out half-words and squealing moans. You can feel bits of her juices landing on your groin with every thrust, the squelching noise of your connection and the warm air quickly filling with the musk of sex stimulating your senses even more. You don’t think it is possible to get even more horny after finally fulfilling Jimin’s desire of being filled up with you, but, in hindsight, there simply wasn’t a way for that not to happen.

“Jo-Jong—Jonghyun!”

The first time Jimin manages to get out a full word is what snaps you out of the trance you were in, mesmerized by the back-and-forth swaying of her tits while pushing yourself inside her again and again.

“Is this what you wanted?”

The enthusiasm of Jimin’s nodding might’ve seemed hyperbolic if you didn’t feel her legs wrapping around your waist, squeezing you closer to her in perfect synchronicity with your thrusts.

“It—yes!”

You can feel the poor bed frame shaking and faintly, you can hear it squeaking under your vigorous motions, but you pay it no heed. Your mind is overloading with ecstasy, barely able to focus on anything but the sensual, screaming seductress underneath you. You can feel your body moving, and hers in sync with you, your cock unrelenting on its assault on Jimin’s pussy.

Why did you deny yourself this for so long?

“How horny must you have since entering my room to become such a shameless slut, huh?”

Jimin shakes her head. “N-No, sin-since—” her words transform into a moan, her back arching off the bed again. The motion inadvertently, or perhaps very intentionally, pushes out her delectable rack, and like opposite poles of a magnet, your hands are drawn to her round, perky tits. “—since—ahn!” An adorable squeal erupts from her lips when your hands reestablish contact with her breasts. You are listening to Jimin, you swear, and had a hunch that this would disrupt her from giving you an answer to your inquiry, but you can’t help grabbing them as much as a droplet of water can’t help falling down a waterfall. Even watching the squishy, plush skin giving way to your kneading and squeezing motions is addicting in and of itself, but feeling its softness … it’s a wonder how you were able to restrain yourself hours before. But now that you’re this far, you can feel that burgeoning feeling in your nethers expanding, as if about to burst. Gritting your teeth and increasing the strength of your squeezing is all you can do to hold it back; while you want to continue indulging in the heavenly feeling of Jimin’s hot, tight walls rubbing against your dick, this very action is what’s causing the impending climax to loom over you. It’s a serious dilemma: the more you indulge more in Jimin’s pussy, the sooner it’ll come to an end. So, what should you do?

The solution you find is within your grasp: instead of focusing on that, focusing on Jimin’s rack, you find, extends the time you have left. “So heavy. It’s only fitting such a blatant harlot like you has such massive tits, isn’t it?” Your fingers softly squeeze her nipples, and a louder squeal splits the warm, musky air. You can see her body tense up in reaction to it, and also feel it: her pussy squeezes your cock shortly after, causing a groan to tumble out your lips. That tension threatens to unravel, but you push it down at the last second. Now that you are actually fucking her, enjoying this for as long as possible is the primary thing on your mind.

“—I was horny ever since entering this apartment earlier today.”

Jimin pushed the words out of her mouth in rapid-fire, but clearly enough for you to understand.

Oh.

…

Oh.

No wonder she came here in the dead of night with such a form-fitting outfit. No wonder she came so quickly to just your fingers. No wonder her face is so flushed, and why she looks like she’s in heat, why her facial expression and her body language—why everything about her screams ‘I need to be bred by you. Now.’

For a moment, you wonder how you’d feel if you were blue-balled for hours and hours on end. How excruciating that would be. How desperate you’d be to find reprieve. Maybe she had even masturbated, maybe even a few times, before coming here. And, while you were able to relieve yourself, Jimin seemingly wasn’t. Assuming she did try, it clearly didn’t work. And, so, at the end of her rope, she jumped out of bed, dressed herself like this, and walked over to your apartment.

“Fuck.”

With that knowledge, everything seems to change. Amidst the pleasure and ecstasy Jimin is drowning in, you can see the relief hidden in her face. Mixed in with her pants and moans and squeals and ecstatic screams are traces of a long-awaited contentment. And to know that it is you who caused it, to know that it is you that the Jimin laying before you obsessed so hard over, and now it is your cock granting relieve to the pussy aching to be fucked but getting no reprieve for hours and hours on end, pushes you damn near the edge.

“Fuck.”

Jimin can feel the increased vigor of your motions, too, and responds in kind. Her hands are now gripping your bedsheets, her heels digging into the soft mattress she was laying on, doing anything and everything to keep her body from flying off. The wooden frame of your bed shakes with the cadence of your synchronized movements, its headboard lightly banging against the wall it’s propped against.

“I’m close, Jimin.”

She, on the other hand, isn’t able to share a similar warning. “Jong-Jonghyun, ah, I’m sorry—!” The first torrent, again, catches you off guard, spraying all over your groin and abdominal area, as well as her own legs and stomach. “—oh—” Her body vibrates even more violently than before, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, completely and utterly succumbing to the ecstasy wracking her body. “—it’s so—” Her vigorous reaction to her climax stimulates you even further, the jerking motion causing the tension you were so desperately trying to hold back to explode. “—nng, oh my—” But looking at her tensed facial features, listening to her alluring voice shaking in unintentional vibrato, feeling her convulsing walls squeezing your cock in a rolling motion, as if attempting to coerce your seed out, it’s only a matter of time. “—fuck!”

Hearing that, the rare swear out of the mouth of the Catholic girl, does it. You yell at her one final time, a barely coherent string of nearly meaningless words, before you bury yourself as far as you can reach inside her and unleash everything.

“A-Ah!” Your hot, sticky seed shoots straight into her womb, each rope of semen splattering against her insides causing her to flinch a little. “Oh, ah, so hot!” It’s only then that you finally remember: you don’t have a condom on.

“Wait, fuck—” But it’s too late. Jimin’s legs are wrapped tightly around your back, trampling any ideas of pulling out.

“So hot, oh, oh God—”

“N-No, no, Kari—Jimin!” You try anyway, reaching back in a vain attempt to peel her legs off you. Whether the reason for it is that you don’t have the strength or you don’t put enough into it is barely a question: your hips keep bucking into her viscously, every audible, wet clapping sound of your balls against her ass moistened with her own ejaculate sending shockwaves of pleasure into you. “Damn it—” your words are drowned out by Jimin’s orgasmic moans, her climax extended by the abrupt intrusion of your seed her pussy was so desperately trying to milk out.

You don’t even realize the fact that you’re using Jimin’s boobs as a handle while you ride out your orgasm with her until it subsides and the tension in your hands relax.

“Jonghyun…”

You take a few moments to catch your breath, all your strength suddenly having left your body. You can barely keep yourself upright, and almost slipping from pushing against the smooth, buttery texture of her boobs is what makes you realize what you’ve done. You lift your eyes, and, surely enough, her otherwise pink areola is a noticeable shade darker.

“Damn it, fuck…”

Your refractory period is hitting you, hard, so when Jimin smiles and pulls you onto her chest, you don’t retaliate. With your cock still wedged deep inside her, it isn’t even given a chance to soften—still, not even the pillowy feeling of her bosom against your cheeks is enough to grant you the strength to immediately go again.

“I can feel it inside me, Jonghyun~” At first, you figure she’s referring to your cock. “It feels so warm, and so full…” Then, you realize she’s talking about something else.

You dart up, trying to push yourself off her but being stopped by her legs. “Shit—”

“Hm?” Your sudden actions startle Jimin, whose facial expression transforms from contentment to concern. “What?”

“No, shit—”

“Jonghyun? What’s wrong?”

Even the worried look on Karina’s face is beautiful, and heartwarming to an extent, but the fact that she’s more concerned about your sudden outburst than the fact that you just came in her extinguishes those feelings.

“Karina, you—”

“Jimin.”

“—shouldn’t—” the way she can pout so adorably, even fully in the nude, with your cock stoppering her pussy, stuns you for a second. “—you shouldn’t have let me cum inside.”

“Why not?”

You can only guffaw at that. “What? Because you can get pregnant!”

“I’m on the pill! It’s ok!”

Hearing that relieves you, but only slightly. “But—I mean, what if I have an STD?”

“Well, you didn’t give me one the last time. Unless—” her eyes darken, and a shudder runs up your spine, “—you’ve had sex with another girl in the meanwhile?”

“No! I—” you force yourself to pause. Any fear the look on Karina’s face inspires in you isn’t the main issue. “—the point is, you should’ve stopped me first. It’s always better to be safe than—” you’re interrupted by your own grunt in response to Karina’s legs squeezing you, causing your cock to twitch inside her. “—fuck—first of all, let me go.”

At this, she frowns. “No!”

“Karin—”

“Jimin!”

You sigh. “Fine. Jimin, please, let me go.”

“But you’re still so hard! And I’m not satisfied yet!”

You can feel your exhaustion from the refractory period starting to wear off, and you know if you’re still connected to her by the time that expires, that can only spell out more disaster. Glancing at the redness on her breasts, you grimace again. “Jimin, I’m tired. I have to get up early tomorrow for work. Please?”

Thankfully, she relents. You breathe a sigh of relief, extracting yourself from her. As you’re putting your boxers back on, you hear Karina let out a grimace of her own, and in your peripheral vision, you can see why: trickles of your creampie are leaking out her hole.

You avert your eyes before the sight fully stiffens you up again. “You can go clean up in the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to.”

You blink. “What?”

“I don’t want to,” she repeats.

“But—” you stammer for a few seconds, realizing for the umpteenth time that you have no idea how this KPop superstar’s brain works, “—how are you going to get home?”

“But you said it yourself, right? I can’t go home in the middle of the night like this.” You open your mouth to answer, but she intercepts you. “And I can’t ask for an Uber or anything, and asking my manager to come pick me up from here is only admitting that I came here in the middle of the night to have sex with you.”

You grit your teeth. You know she’s right. Just the memory of the fallout from last time makes you want to go crawl in a hole; what’s done is done, so the least you can do is to minimize the chance of this night’s events leaking out to anyone else.

“Fine. I’ll go—” you move to get up but are immediately pulled back down onto the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Going to sleep on the couch.”

“No! Just sleep here with me.”

You’ve just had sex with her, for God’s sake. You’ve even just cum inside her—hell, your semen is currently still inside her, trickling out of her battered and beaten hole drop by drop, but hearing those words coming out of her mouth causes your face to flush deep red.

“I—…” you can’t formulate a rebuttal, and knowing how stubborn Karina is, you just huff and crawl under the covers. “—fine.”

At this point, you’ve fully recovered, but you can’t let Karina know that. How are you going to be able to sleep with the leader of æspa in the same bed as you? While she’s naked, much less?

“Good night, Jonghyun~”

You let out an embarrassingly feminine squeal when you feel her bountiful bosom pressing against your back. You can feel an erection starting to form again, so you suck in your lips, praying that your racing heart calms down. Her wrapping her arms around your torso doesn’t help, and neither does feeling her soaked groin against your butt.

Damn it. She’s actually spooning you. And damn it, why are you enjoying the feeling of her body curled up against yours so much?

No, this isn’t something you should let yourself indulge in, lest you actually get a wink of sleep. For both your and her, but mostly your, sanity. “Ka—Jimin?”

After a few seconds, “Hm?”

“Can—Can you, um, give me more space?”

“Why?”

“I—” can you even admit why? “It’s a little cramped.”

“But…” you can feel your heart plummeting as you feel her hand snaking its way south. You want to tell her to stop, but it feels as though your throat is suddenly sealed shut. You think about squirming out of Karina’s embrace, but it remains only that: a thought.

Ooh, this isn’t good.

“…you’re so hard.”

The words sensually whispered in your ear in combination with her dainty fingers slipping underneath your boxers and grabbing your now fully erect cock destroy the last semblance of self-control you had been so desperately clinging to.

If she wants me to destroy her pussy and fill her up with cum until the sun rises, who am I to deny her?

Tumblr debut fic, and also first time writing in 2nd person :o

(and also first time writing in present tense)

If you noticed there’s a LOT of setup, that will be a trend for the stuff I write, so hope you’re willing to sit through it! xD

#smut #kpop smut #karina #aespa

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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago

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NSFW

Your puppy!hybrid bf has been super mean lately…

Usually he’s so spunky and fun, greeting you with kisses hugs, and humping you excitedly when you get home…

But for the past few days he’s been so cold! You asked him how he was doing and he… growled at you!

“Shut up, I don’t want to speak with you, you damn cheater!”

This really upset you, and despite the fact he seemed upset, his ears flattened against his head when he noticed your shocked and hurt expression.

“Cheater? Baby, what are you talking about?”

You reached out to gently pet him, but he pushed your hand away. “You know what I mean! You’ve been coming home smelling like some other mutt!”

This made you pause, and then you began to snicker before outright laughing.

“W-why are you laughing? You find hurting me funny!?”

He began to cry, and you quickly moved to soothe him. “Shh, shh… baby, calm down. If you come walk with me, I can clear things up.”

He wasn’t in the best mood, but he still followed behind you, sulking as you walked your usual path from and to work.

Halfway there, you stopped as a big dog trotted towards you, stopping at the end of his yard. Already your lover began to blush and get embarrassed when you pet the dog.

The scent was instantly recognizable.

“See? It’s just a dog. I’m not cheating on you.”

Your pup was quiet on the way home, his face buried in your shoulder as he followed behind you. Now he was being clingy, sniffling and hiding his flustered face from your amused eyes.

“I’m sorry… I should have talked to you before accusing you of something like that…”

The second the two of you were inside, he took you to the bedroom, sitting in front of you as he nudged his nose against your thigh.

“Can I make it up to you?”

You sighed happily, relaxing as he gave your cunt a tentative lick before burying his face between your thighs.

His tongue swirled around your clit, and he looked up at you with hazy, teary eyes, gripping your thighs.

“You mean everything to me… I’m sorry… but even thinking about you with someone else makes me…”

He growled against your cunt, shoving his tongue into your tight hole. His cock bobbed with need between his thighs… all he wanted to do was knot you…

But he wouldn’t yet. Your pup loved you, and he had questioned your loyalty to him… he wanted to make it up to you.

Sucking softly on your clit, he made sure to gently stretch you on his fingers. He wanted you as wet as possible…

It wasn’t easy for him, the pup’s brain was already starting to turn to mush. The smell and taste of your pussy on his tongue was enough to have him humping your leg as he ate you out.

“Sorry… s-so sorry, wanna… wanna mate with you… please…”

You tried to speak, but it was getting difficult after your third orgasm had your body shaking and trembling with pleasure. A strangled moan left your throat as you pulled his head from your fat pussy.

“C’mon… let’s make puppies…”

That shattered any restraint he had left. Within seconds he was on top of you, shoving his hot, fat cock into your warm hole.

There was no waiting for you to adjust like normal, he was already fucking into your so fast it nearly knocked the wind from your lungs.

“Mine…”

He bit down on your neck, growling lowly as he held onto your hips, his claws digging into your hips. “Mine, no one’s taking you from me…”

“Ahh! All… all yours, pup!”

The bite in your neck stung, but the pleasure you felt as his cock slammed into your pussy was too great to even feel it.

He knotted you, panting above you as he looked down, his face flushed.

“Mmph… no one will ever touch my mate…”

He huffed, nuzzling into his, his cock nestled inside of your fat cunt. The two of you fell asleep together, both satisfied and in love.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

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dilvei · 4 months ago

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𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ( y! dragon x m! human reader )

yandere! dragon x male! human reader

warnings:

nsfw

throne sex

overstimulation

the dragon has two pp's and a long tongue

i think my tumblr looks a little like a desert rn since I haven't posted anything in a while, so take this old smut oneshot of mine that I posted months ago in watt and q. for like context: it's from a fic of mine called mythical devotion, but the really important fact is that the dragon's name is Idris and the mc, you, are the current ruler/king hehe.

Frankly, you still find yourself questioning how it is that you've led yourself into this situation.

The empty throne room is filled only by the audible sound of your breath. Idris towers over you as you remain seated on the throne, his claws tight around your skin, digging securely into your arms like a vice.

Suppressing a grimace, you lift your chin, meeting the dragon's gaze. "What is the meaning of this, Idris?"

There is an almost single-minded intensity from how Idris is watching you, and you gulp as you receive no answer from the other, unsettled by the rare silence.

"Idris…?" you murmur his name, a furrow of concern creasing your brow before it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

A startled gasp escapes your lips as Idris suddenly makes himself at home, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he whispers,

"[Name]."

Idris’s voice is pitched lower than usual, like fire trailing down your skin. You can’t stop the instinctive shiver that runs through your body at the sound of it. You attempt to move, but Idris’s grasp on you remains unyielding.

A deep inhale reaches your ears, and you frown, holding your breath. Is Idris... inhaling your scent? You can't even begin to understand why.

You've been sitting all day on the throne, addressing endless requests and grappling with the council's demands. There is nothing there for the dragon to smell except for your sweat.

You shift again, but you are caught off guard by what happens next. Idris emits a low groan into your ear before the sharp sting of fangs sinks into your neck. "Ah—!"

Blood trickles down.

A searing tongue laps up each bead of blood, sending a fiery tremor down your spine with each wet lick of his tongue. A fleeting smile brushes against the juncture of your shoulder and neck.

"You've been so consumed in your duties, Your Majesty. Not even a moment spared for your adoring beloved. How very, very rude, my sweet little darling. Discourteous, even."

Heat brushes against your cheek as you become aware of the rigid, hard presence pressing against your thigh. Oh, this is...

Your mind scrambles for purchase, desperately seeking an escape from Idris’s unexpected fervor. You have to find a way out of here.

Certainly, you had brushed aside Idris's presence most of the time he visited you in the throne room, but still. "I was— Of course I was busy. I have a kingdom to manage and rule over, I can't just—"

Idris tuts you to silence, his lips gently nibbling at your ear. "Wrong answer."

Idris climbs onto the throne, wedging a leg between yours and pushing you further back into the velvet seat.

There is the promise of being devoured whole in those dilated golden eyes. As you bare your throat to Idris, you can't ignore the unmistakable pool of desire reflected in the dragon’s gaze, crowding you entirely, palpable and consuming.

"You have the freedom to walk away at any moment, [Name]. But I doubt you would, prideful thing you are," Idris remarks, his finger trailing down your cheek before tilting your chin upward, bringing your face closer to his.

It's dizzying, disorienting, and when it all subsides, you see it.

Despite Idris looming over you, it feels as though the dragon himself is the one on his knees, pure awe etched on his features, a reverent finger caressing the contours of your cheek. What does Idris see in you, you wonder.

Sometimes, you still cannot comprehend Idris’s mind. How is it that the dragon holds such devotion for your entire being? There is always love—an overwhelming love—that threatens to engulf you whole.

Idris has yet to resume any of his firm touches, but at the same time, he does not move away, a maddening smirk playing upon his lips.

A surge of annoyance courses through you at the sight. Without hesitation, you shake off Idris's grasp—something akin to triumph crosses Idris's face—and pull the annoying dragon down by the neck, crashing your lips together.

You are the one who started the kiss, but Idris is the one who controls it.

The pace is slow at first, your head tilted up to accommodate the embrace, but soon Idris’s long tongue delves deeper, coaxing your head to the side as if to consume you. Your muffled whimpers are drowned out by Idris’s groans, and your shaky hands desperately clutch at his frame.

It isn’t until you are nearly out of breath that Idris allows your lips to part. Desire curls low in your stomach.

"Don't lose your breath so early now, [Name]," Idris tells you, a smile on his face. "We've barely just begun, hm?"

You glare in reply, gripping tightly onto his shoulder. "And whose fault is that, dragon?" you question back, words barely audible from how out of breath you are.

Idris chuckles sharply in reply before, strangely enough, moving away from you.

"Idris, you— What exactly are you—" Your words falter easily as Idris kneels and tugs both your pants and underwear down before casting them aside. A sharp pang of shame ignites as your arousal springs forth, hard and slick already.

"Oh, [Name]," Idris begins, voice laden with want, "you're always so eager for me, aren't you?"

"Move," you stammer, eyes roaming across the room, "Not here, Idris. This place is—"

Idris’s body abruptly shoots up, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to meet the gaze of his golden eyes and nothing else. "There's no one here, Your Majesty. Just you and me."

Those golden eyes remain fixed on you, capturing every nuance of your expression. You shut your eyes in shame, trying to evade the piercing scrutiny as best you can.

"That won't do," Idris chides gently, "I need you to look at me, [Name]."

You stubbornly keep your eyes closed, denying the request, and Idris hums, releasing his hold to go back down and—

"Ah—!"

A firm hand closes around your erection, and your hips instinctively buck. However, Idris’s unoccupied hand swiftly pins you down, and you moan, loudly, your body twitching at the dragon's casual display of strength.

"Still refusing to look, even now?" Idris whispers, his breath teasing your arousal, and you bite down on your lips, stifling another moan. "This is unfair, you know? I've been patiently waiting for you all day." The hand on your cock twists and tightens, and you use all your strength to swallow down the scream of a whimper that threatens to escape.

"Open your eyes for me, [Name]. Please." Idris's plea is soft, a stark contrast to the dragon's unrelentingly pressing body, his every touch branding you as his.

Swallowing a hiss, you try to sort out your words and force your mouth open in an attempt at protest, but your words die in your throat as Idris adjusts his grip. He places a hand on your shaking thigh, pulls, and hoists your leg over his shoulder, baring everything.

You finally open your eyes, see the cruel smirk on the dragon's lips. "N-no. This position—"

"Look at you. Still so pretty, even here," Idris murmurs softly, golden eyes trailing between your legs, almost spellbound. "I've always wanted to taste more than your lips."

Humiliation courses through you as you try to shield your twitching hole with your other leg, preserving whatever modesty it is you have left, but with a speed that you've rarely seen in the dragon, Idris's other hand swiftly seizes your leg and pins it down firmly.

"Don't hide away," Idris whispers, his tone sweet like saccharine, a wicked smile on his lips before the dragon maneuvers your leg even higher, eliciting a whimper from your throat. "You'll enjoy this, dear. Trust me," Idris says sweetly as he moves and licks his tongue into your hole.

Your entire body spasms, your leg instinctively clamping down on Idris’s shoulder as the persistent probing of his long tongue inside you sends waves and waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, a never-ending sensation shooting up your spine.

"Ah, ah, Idris—!"

Idris hums inside you, and tremors rack your frame, the vibrations shaking you to the core. Your hands scramble helplessly on the armrests of your throne.

"Idris— Idris, please—"

You whine, tears welling in your eyes as sobs escape your bitten lips.

You try to stifle the moans rising, crawling, from your throat but you can't. Idris denies you of it, immobilizing both your hands with his tail as the dragon's tongue slithers impossibly deep. "Stop, I can't— Idris, Idris, no—"

In response, his tongue curls inside of you, deftly spreading your walls, searching for that bundle of sensitive nerves that'll send you spasming and spiraling into ecstasy.

Idris finds it, easily, and with dark lustful eyes staring right at you, the cruel dragon presses his tongue unrelentingly against your prostate.

You tense, your body arching, jaw slack as your eyes roll back into your head. With a loud sob, you shatter, cum splattering on your royal attire, your body going limp as you gulp for air like a drowning man, eyes struggling to focus under the haze of pleasure, senses reeling in the aftermath of it all.

"Who am I to ever deny you, my dearest love," Idris breathes out, withdrawing his tongue and replacing it with two slender figures. Alarm bells flicker within you.

You suck in a sharp breath.

"Haven't you— had enough yet...?" you ask, voice barely audible. Idris gives you an amused huff, taking out his fingers as the dragon removes his pants, revealing his hard, leaking erections.

"There's still a long night ahead, hm?" is the answer you receive before he manhandles you to a different position. Your back is pressed firmly against the throne, your hands still bound by the dragon's tail as Idris's hands grip open your thighs.

A lovely blush sits high on your face as Idris leans toward you, his lips brushing against yours. "Don't scream too loudly, [Name]." Idris draws his cocks to slide between your ass, teasing gently against your perineum. "All right?"

"Ngh—"

Idris smiles, radiant eyes crinkling at the corners as he guides his cocks to where you are waiting, open and eager.

Your mouth falls agape as Idris enters you, a rush of delirium washing over you as you watch the dragon's cocks disappearing into you, inch by inch, until Idris reaches the deepest part of you, bottoming out with a groan.

It helps that this isn't your first time together with the dragon, but the sensation of fullness still overwhelms you. Coupled with the searing stretch, you can't suppress the loud, keening, almost broken moan that rips itself from your throat.

"You're so big," you mumble, filter completely abandoned in the throes of ecstasy. Clenching around Idris's cocks, you savor the heady feeling of being filled to the brim. When you look down, the sight of your stomach swelling from being filled to the brim doesn’t surprise you one bit. But what Idris does next does.

The dragon presses a hand down on your stomach, and your eyes cross from the pure pleasure you feel. "So so full—oh!—of you. Ah! ah—"

"That filthy little mouth of yours," Idris growls, voice husky with desire, and you choke out on a wail as Idris withdraws completely before plunging back into you with a single, powerful thrust.

"Idris, Idris. Hhh— Ah, Idris—!"

"Ah, I do adore it when my name is the only thing on your lips," Idris exhales sharply, each word punctuated by the relentless rhythm of his hips.

Tears well at the corners of your eyes, your mouth forming a silent plea with each exhale. You feel more exposed and vulnerable than ever before, reduced to a broken, shattered, needy mess of a man. The image of yourself in his mind—panting and debauched—sends a surge of arousal straight to your cock.

"You are so utterly exquisite," Idris murmurs, moving to sharply bite down on your neck once again.

"Idris," you moan in warning, the need to cum again is unbearable, and you shudder in your need, a whine trapped in your chest.

"What is it, my love?" Idris groans mid-sentence, and glances at you through the strands of white hair falling over his forehead. There's hunger burning inside the dragon's eyes, an adrenaline-fueled smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm going to— Again. I—"

But before you can finish, Idris spreads your legs wider, teasingly denying your release. "Not yet," Idris answers before slamming back inside, hitting an angle that sends you reeling, legs trembling all over.

A hoarse gasp escapes your throat as you writhe beneath Idris's every touch, your breath shallow, your mouth dry. You can't hold on much longer, not when Idris is pushing you relentlessly toward the edge just to wring you dry in the end. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably with each thrust, and you're sure you can hear yourself sobbing, voice raw and fractured. Tears blur your vision, and you struggle to even draw oxygen into your lungs.

"Don't pass out on me, [Name]," Idris's voice cuts through the haze.

"I.. I..." Your voice is punched out by another particular sharp thrust, and then you're gone, lost in a whirlwind of sensation. "Idris. I have to— Please, please–ah!—please I can't—" you sob to him, pleading, frantic.

Idris's smile widens as he shifts forward and slowly captures your lips in a soft kiss. "Good boy. Do as you please." Then plunges himself back in, muffling your scream with his mouth as he sets back to a punishing, relentless rhythm.

You mewl as you come undone once again to another climax, body wracked with oversensitivity as Idris continues, showing no mercy. Drool pools in your mouth, dripping from your open lips down to your chin. With a gasping breath, you realize your hands are no longer bound, and you wrap them around Idris's neck like it was always meant to be there.

Idris nails your prostate with a final, forceful thrust, eliciting a spurt of warmth that floods inside you completely, causing you to shake apart once more, toes curling as you keen loudly into his ear.

You've become a disheveled mess of gasping breaths and fractured moans, unable to do anything but whine as Idris shifts you into a new position. Now seated on Idris's lap, your body still impaled on Idris's cocks, you feel the dragon gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I should inform your dear council you'll be terribly indisposed tomorrow. I highly doubt you'd be able to walk after all this."

Tomorrow...? Right, there's more work to be done tomorrow, you can't do that, you can't neglect your duties as ruler. With your mind still reeling, albeit a bit blank, you shake your head in response.

"No?" Idris slams up inside you and you hiccup through the mind-shattering thrusts, barely able to focus and listen as Idris continues, "Well then, I suppose I'll have to exert myself a little more to make that a reality."

In response, you clench around him with a soft moan, blissful through your misty, tear-filled eyes.

#dilvei.writes #dilvei.nsfw #yandere dragon #yandere x male reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere smut #bottom male reader #x male reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #mythical devotion #banner by cafekitsune #art by 肆拾一号树屋 on weibo

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yueebby · 1 year ago

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all mine — gojo satoru

synopsis. It’s the exchange event and gojo doesn’t like how that kyoto boy is looking at you.

contents. fluff, jealous!gojo, minor male oc, loosely based on that one jujutsu scroll, satoru is really insufferable and problematic but in his defense he is lovesick

gojo satoru is seething. he knows that you’re good looking, but he doesn’t need the entire world to know that either. if it were up to him, your beauty would be for his eyes only.

especially not that kyoto third year who has been eyeing you since your arrival.

it was sickening, really. and to add salt to the wound, you have been oblivious to it all. one moment, gojo has his arms draped around your shoulders, and in the blink of an eye, you were being whisked away by that third year.

“please don’t do what i think you're trying to do,” shoko’s unamused voice breaks his train of thought. her knowing gaze made gojo chuckle.

“who, me? why do you assume i’m plotting something?” gojo feigns innocence, hoping his friend couldn’t sense the vicious wave of cursed energy that was leaking out of him.

shoko doesn’t bother telling him that his usual sky blue eyes were darker, clouded with annoyance or whatever angsty emotion he was dealing with. suguru snorts at his best friend’s silent torment.

“he’s kinda cute,” shoko places a hand on her hip while she observes you conversing with the brown haired third year from kyoto. he was probably a clan kid, judging by his traditional kimono design for a uniform. “you think [name]’s into him?” she eggs gojo on with a smirk on her lips.

suguru bumps his shoulder against hers as a silent warning.

it takes a moment for satoru to process shoko’s conclusion, the realization evident on his face as his eyes slowly widened.

“like hell she is.” satoru’s fist clench and he thinks that he will explode if you keep entertaining that stupid kyoto boy. why waste your time with a weakling, when satoru, who was much worthier of your attention was standing just a couple of meters away in the same courtyard? satoru glares at you from above his glasses, hoping you can feel just an ounce of the anger he feels.

you don’t.

he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside. in fact, he thinks you’re purposefully messing with his mind with the way you playfully smack the kyoto boy’s shoulder with the same soft hand that gojo has dreamed of holding since his first year.

“stop being dramatic and let's warm up. we have team battles today.” annoyance is evident in suguru’s voice. yaga had warned the duo that if either of them acted up during the exchange event, the consequences would be dire.

“dramatic?” he scoffs, his glare not wavering. “she has the audacity to look beautiful in the presence of other men. she’s doing this on purpose.” his arms are crossed now.

exasperated looks are exchanged by his two friends.

screw whatever yaga said. without wasting another moment, satoru forced his way in your direction, ignoring suguru's attempt to stop him. shoko, however, held suguru back. "don't," she said, her eyes fixed on gojo. "i want to see what this idiot will do."

suguru sighed, acknowledging that gojo deserved whatever was coming his way.

you realize that perhaps you are too lenient with gojo satoru. you have forgiven every stunt he has pulled, but the look on his face right now as he approaches you with a wide grin makes you sense that might end now.

“wifey!” he closes the space between you. you furrow your eyebrows at the unfamiliar pet name. “how could you leave me for some kyoto scum?”

you choke on air at his blatant insult to the boy in front of you.

“ah, i apologize, i couldn’t help myself but steal her when i saw her. i’m ishikawa daisuke–”

“what a bold statement to say to her husband!” gojo doesn’t spare ishikawa a second glance, choosing to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. too shocked to move, you let gojo relish in the intimate action.

you’re equally as surprised as ishikawa at satoru’s declaration, a strangled noise escaping from your mouth. the idea of gojo as your husband… it was enough to make your brain short circuit. where did he even get the idea from?

ishikawa’s eyes are blown wide, any semblance of self confidence thrown out of the window, “i-i apologize for the misunderstanding. i wasn’t aware you were already married so young.” he stutters, bowing deeply to gojo who is smirking with a hand on his hip.

“damn right we are. i knew i had to tie the knot with this beauty the moment i met her.” satoru proudly exclaims, his gaze softening when it returns on you. the initial shock is starting to wear off and you are shooting gojo your harshest glare. satoru’s antics seem to never end.

“isn’t my wifey the cutest?” he coos down at you, tapping your nose with a single finger. you are tempted to bite it off.

“gojo satoru, you are the most insufferable man that i know,” you point at his chest angrily. “the most delusional too.” you mutter.

he places a pained hand to his chest, “you know other men? you’re killing me sweetheart.”

ishikawa coughs awkwardly, reminding you of his presence. you give him your best sympathetic look.

satoru, annoyed that your attention is off of him once again narrowed his eyes at the brown haired boy, “shouldn’t you be practicing with the rest of the kyoto weaklings? i recommend you to do so if you don’t want to be killed on the battlefield today.” satoru’s voice is an octave lower.

“satoru!” you’re startled by his indirect threat, quick to defend your senior who looked like he was moments away from pissing his pants.

“i-if you will excuse me.” ishikawa bows deeply once again before scurrying away without another word. you watch him hopelessly. the moment ishikawa is gone, satoru’s intimidating aura is replaced with a pout as he crosses his arms bitterly.

“if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” satoru exhales forcefully with a hmph. his arms are still crossed and if it weren’t for the fact that he had acted utterly out of line, you would almost go as far as calling him cute.

“excuse me?”

“you were trying to get my attention,” he points out. “you don’t have to y’know.” my eyes are always on you. the words die on his lips.

a scoff leaves your mouth, disbelief is evident on your face, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do!”

“are you jealous or something?” the idea that the great gojo satoru was sick with envy amused a cruel part inside of you.

“who? me? what could that country bumpkin have that i don’t?” he sounds almost offended at your accusation.

“he’s nice.”

“i can be nice!" satoru whines. there is desperation in his eyes. "i bought a can of tuna for that stray cat the other week, remember?”

“yeah, but he’s nice to people. he’s also polite and-”

“alright i get it! you don’t have to keep talking about him.” satoru's eyebrows furrow in sync with the way his bottom lip slightly juts out. “i just didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“and how did he look at me?”

satoru grumbles. was it not obvious enough? “his gaze was devouring you like you were his or something. honestly, what a loser. he’ll have to get in line.”

frustration laces your words as you challenge him, “you can’t just march around scaring off all of the guys that i talk to. i want you to admit that you were jealous."

satoru's jaw drops.

"you can't be serious." he protests, cerulean eyes widening. "i'm starting to think you like torturing me." you smile at his comment. you were indeed doing this on purpose.

"oh but i am completely serious," you reply with faux innocence, eyes blinking at him. “satoru.” you enunciate each syllable of his name, dealing the finishing blow.

he folds. you were being so unfair.

"i was jealous." he confesses petulantly. your grin widens as he admits his jealousy. the victory, however, is short-lived as satoru seizes the opportunity to sneak in another flirty comment. “it’s not my fault my dream girl happens to be everyone else’s.”

a groan escapes your lips, and you take your hand, lightly flicking his forehead. satoru accepts the physical contact happily.

"when will you give this bit up?" you retort, raising an eyebrow.

“when i finally put a ring on that finger,” satoru winks. you regard his words with skepticism, oblivious to the fact that he was dead set on it. gojo satoru was going to make you his, or at least die trying.

remember spring days masterlist

extra notes:

prior to the exchange event, utahime actually warned ishikawa that you were off limits. she didn’t elaborate why.

poor ishikawa seemed to be the target of most of satoru’s attacks during the team battle.

tokyo won the event by an overwhelming amount.

“i deserve victory kisses for carrying tokyo to victory, right [name]?” satoru had teased you on the way home.

you pretend to think about it, “hmm i think suguru’s curses were quite helpful. he’s the one that deserves the kisses.”

satoru had never moved faster in his entire life to cover your mouth with the palm of his hand and whisk you away from his best friend who had joined in your joke.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader

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idkyetxoxo · 12 days ago

Text

Cregan Stark - The Cold Claim

Summary - Even the fiercest lords can be overwhelmed by jealousy, as Cregan Stark discovers when a young lord's lingering gaze threatens to disrupt his night, sparking a passionate encounter that reignites the flames of love.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2430

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Cregan Stark was not a jealous man by nature. He was steady, confident in himself, and, above all, unwavering in his trust for his wife.

He never questioned her loyalty; that was a certainty in his mind, as constant as the cold winds of the North. But his trust didn't extend to the men around her, whose lingering glances and half-hidden smiles betrayed desires he would never allow.

"How do I look?" I asked, giving a small twirl to show off my gown.

Cregan barely looked up from the scroll in his hands, still engrossed in the matters of his House, despite the fact we were minutes away from hosting a feast for half the North.

"Absolutely divine," he murmured, his gaze finally lifting to meet mine. His eyes drifted over me, slower than usual, his attention caught.

"Good, because the seamstress seems to have gotten a few things wrong," I said, tugging at the fabric that clung a little too tightly to my chest. "She stitched it far tighter than usual—and forgot the sleeves altogether, apparently."

He grinned, standing and moving toward me with an appreciative gleam in his eye.

"Happy accidents," he murmured, trailing a finger along the curve of my collarbone, then lower, letting his hand settle where the fabric hugged me most.

"Oh, you oaf, we have guests to entertain," I laughed, swatting his hand away even as he chuckled, unrepentant, leaning in close.

"Then don't look so tempting," he whispered against my ear, pressing soft kisses along my jawline, his hand warm against my back, pulling me in closer.

I sighed, tilting toward him, before quickly remembering our guests waiting below.

"Come on, we really do have to go," I said, giving his arm a firm tug, pulling him down the winding halls of Winterfell as his laughter filled the corridors.

The hall was alive with the sounds of celebration, laughter, and clinking goblets, with firelight casting a warm glow across Winterfell's stone walls.

On Cregan's arm, I moved through the crowd, greeting familiar faces with smiles and nods.

His presence was steady beside me, his grip on my hand warm and reassuring, as we made our way through the gathered lords and ladies of the North. I felt a thrill of pride at his side; in this hall, surrounded by so many allies, he was truly in his element.

Beside him, I effortlessly charmed the lords and ladies with grace, drawing smiles and laughter with my kind words and wit.

Cregan felt a deep pride in my presence—a loyalty and trust that ran as unbreakable as Northern steel. But as we worked our way down the hall, greeting guests, a particular gaze caught his eye.

We approached Lord Manderly, a young man recently raised to his station after his father's untimely passing.

Manderly stood tall and well-dressed, holding a goblet that he swirled idly as his eyes took in every inch of me with a gleam that bordered on insolence.

His expression shifted from polite regard to something unmistakably appreciative, his gaze lingering on me with a blatant hunger that made Cregan's grip on his goblet tighten.

"My lady," Manderly began with a flourish, his gaze fixed on me with more fervour than was fitting. "It is a true honour to be here under Winterfell's great roof, and doubly so to meet a woman as radiant as yourself."

His words rolled off his tongue with the practised ease of a flatterer, his eyes shamelessly tracing the line of my collarbone and down the curve of my gown.

Unaware of Manderly's attentions, I only smiled, laughing at his compliment with a polite wave of my hand.

"You flatter me, my lord," I replied kindly, my laughter soft and genuine, the very same I'd given a dozen others that evening. A vision of charm, ease and warmth lighting up the hall.

But every word I spoke, every polite nod I gave, seemed to encourage the young lord's brazenness.

Cregan felt his patience wane as Manderly leaned in slightly closer, a smirk lingering on his face, a knowing look in his eyes. Manderly's hand brushed my arm as he spoke, letting it linger just a fraction longer than necessary.

"Perhaps we could steal a moment later?" Manderly suggested, his voice low, his gaze drifting to my lips. "I would relish the chance to get to know such a fine lady more personally."

Cregan's jaw clenched. It was a subtle movement, but it was enough to bring a storminess to his usually controlled demeanour.

I gave a soft, oblivious laugh at Manderly's boldness, my mind as far from suspicion as the stars were from the earth.

I was gracious, unaware of the fire building in Cregan's chest with each of Manderly's lingering glances.

"Manderly," Cregan cut in, his voice colder than the North's winter wind, "surely your thoughts aren't as far south as your words imply."

Manderly blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the hard edge in Cregan's tone.

But he only straightened, raising his goblet in a silent challenge, his gaze darting to me as if he couldn't resist the temptation.

"Of course not, Lord Stark," he replied, his tone laced with feigned respect. "I only mean to show my admiration for the Lady of Winterfell. I'm sure all men here would agree she's worthy of it."

It took everything in Cregan not to let his frustration boil over then and there.

His hand found mine, holding it firmly, a silent declaration of his claim. I sensed the shift in his mood, looking at him curiously, but he only gave a thin smile.

"Enough pleasantries, Manderly," he said, his voice like steel. "The North has other matters to see to tonight."

And as he led me away, Cregan didn't miss the flicker of disappointment in Manderly's eyes—a flicker that he made a silent vow to remember.

Throughout the evening, Cregan remained firmly by my side, his arm wrapped possessively around my waist.

I could feel the tension in him, subtle at first but growing more intense as the night wore on. His gaze rarely left me, scanning the room as if every man was a potential threat.

Though I found it endearing at first, his attention eventually made it hard to move or greet others properly.

"You have to let me wish everyone farewell," I murmured, trying to peel his arm from around my waist with a gentle nudge.

"Let them leave without their wishes," he replied quietly, his grip tightening, his eyes shadowed with a barely contained jealousy.

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes, but I couldn't deny my own curiosity about his behaviour.

"No," I replied, sliding his arm free, "these are your guests, and they'll expect some manners from us both."

Reluctantly, he let me go, though his gaze never wavered.

As I moved around the hall, offering each lord and lady warm words of departure and blessings for a safe journey, I felt Cregan's eyes on me, watching my every move.

When I reached Lord Manderly, he was more forward than I had anticipated.

His youthful face held a smile that bordered on smugness as he stepped forward, hand extended, his fingers wrapping around mine before I even had a chance to react.

"Lady Stark," he murmured, his lips hovering over my knuckles as he pressed a kiss to my hand—one that lingered far longer than courtesy allowed.

As I laughed politely, trying to pull back, Manderly's hand tightened around mine, refusing to release me. His thumb traced the back of my hand, his gaze fixed on mine with an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation.

"Perhaps next time," he said softly, "I could convince you to stay at White Harbor a little longer, Lady Stark. I've no doubt my halls would warm at your presence."

Cregan's sharp gaze caught the exchange, his whole frame stiffening as he watched Manderly's lingering hold on me.

His grip on his goblet tightened, his knuckles pale against the dark wood.

He knew he had no reason to doubt me, yet the casual way Manderly's gaze roamed over me—over his wife—kindled a silent fury within him.

That was all it took—before I could respond, Cregan closed the distance between us in a heartbeat.

"My lord," Cregan's voice was a cold, dangerous whisper, each word clipped. "Your journey awaits."

His hand reached for mine, his grip firm as he pulled me away from Manderly's hold, his expression leaving no question about his fury.

"I wish you a good night and a safe journey," Cregan said, barely looking at Manderly as he whisked me away with a resolute stride, guiding me firmly toward the doors.

"Cregan," I hissed under my breath as we left the hall, trying to keep my composure as he practically dragged me through the corridors. "Slow down—people are watching."

"No," he replied, his voice tight as he picked up the pace, his hand gripping mine like a lifeline.

He didn't slow until we reached the doors of our chambers. With a swift movement, he pushed them open, urging me inside, and shut them firmly behind us.

"Tell me why we were running," I said, hands on my hips, breath catching as I looked at him, half frustrated, half amused.

Instead of answering, he took two quick steps forward, his hands reaching for me with an urgency that took my breath away.

"No," he murmured, pressing his lips to mine with a fierce intensity that left no room for argument. His arms wrapped around me, his hands firm against my back as he pulled me close, his grip on me as unyielding as his gaze had been all evening.

I gasped against him, my hands fisting in his tunic, pulling him closer as his hands roamed, grounding me and igniting me all at once.

"Cregan, I—" I began, my voice trailing off as I tried to pull away, but he let out a needy whine, his fingers gripping my dress like his very life depended on it.

"Need you," he murmured, voice hoarse and filled with longing, each word sending a thrill down my spine.

His lips found my neck, brushing over my skin, his kisses growing hotter and more urgent, fingers fumbling as they tried to tear away the layers that kept us apart.

"Stop," I said, my voice firmer this time as I pushed him back.

The slight distance between us seemed to startle him, his breathing rough as he struggled to pull himself back. He looked at me, surprised and a little embarrassed, and I felt a laugh threatening to bubble up.

I tilted my head, biting my lip as I met his gaze with mock seriousness.

"Are you going to tell me what's gotten into you?" I asked, watching as he rubbed a hand over his face, sighing as though he wanted to sink into the floor.

After a moment's hesitation, he finally muttered, "Manderly."

I raised an eyebrow, enjoying this more than I'd admit. "So... you were jealous?" I teased, barely able to keep a grin from spreading.

His jaw clenched, and he glanced away, clearly wishing he were anywhere else.

"Was Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North jealous?" I pressed, savouring the words.

"Yes," he groaned, drawing me back toward him. The soft admission melted something in him, his hands claiming me as he lifted me effortlessly.

"Yes," he repeated, his voice thick with vulnerability and desire as he brought me close again, his lips brushing against my ear. "Now stop talking, love, and let me have you."

His words were rough but reverent as if I were the only balm for his restless soul. He lowered me back onto our bed, holding me there with a careful, possessive tenderness.

Cregan knew I was his and his alone, yet the thought of someone else—anyone else—thinking they could take me even for a moment was enough to unsteady him.

In my presence, he was strong; without me, he feared he might shatter.

"Come here," I murmured, fingers curling into the strands of hair at the back of his neck as I pulled him down toward me. I pressed my lips to his, each kiss a whisper of laughter, love, and shared promises.

"You fool," I whispered affectionately, unable to resist.

Cregan's hands traced the curves of my body, his touch moving with a mixture of patience and yearning, lingering over every line as though to memorize it anew.

His grip tightened as he settled between my thighs, looking down at me with a heat that felt like both devotion and hunger.

"My beautiful wife," he murmured, his voice almost reverent as he threaded his fingers through my hair. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, everything else faded, leaving only the quiet, magnetic pull between us.

Slowly, he pressed himself into me, a shared sigh passing between us as he began to move, his body in perfect harmony with mine.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him closer, welcoming the weight of him, the way he filled every part of me, grounding me even as he drove me higher.

The familiar rhythm of our bodies moving together felt like home, both comforting and thrilling, sending a deep, lingering warmth through every inch of me.

"Only yours," I murmured, the words spilling out naturally, a vow I'd meant from the start.

Cregan's gaze softened for a moment, something unguarded and deeply raw there before he leaned down to press kisses along my collarbone, trailing down, each kiss like a brand.

"Only mine," he agreed, voice thick as he began to move with a slow intensity, each thrust more purposeful than the last, building a steady, unrelenting heat.

His fingers traced paths across my skin, exploring and rediscovering as he found that perfect spot that made my breath hitch and my mind go blissfully blank.

I let my head fall back, lost in the sensation as his touch, his warmth, his voice wrapped around me, drawing me closer and closer to that edge.

Cregan's movements were slow but powerful, each one drawing out a new wave of pleasure, coaxing me further into a blissful haze.

The world blurred as he quickened his pace, his mouth finding mine again as he kissed me, deep and consuming, until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.

In that moment, as he held me so close, so entirely his, I felt as if I were the only thing that mattered to him, just as he was to me.

Cregan, fierce and loving, my husband, gave himself completely as he pulled from me every last ounce of surrender and left me breathless, completely and utterly undone in his arms.

A/n - need him iwl x

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd s2 #team black #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan fanfiction #lord cregan stark #hotd cregan #house stark #cregan x you

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nezuscribe · 1 year ago

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(nsfw, 18+)

there are some things that toji isn't necessarily proud of.

he's not a fan of the fact that he comes home grimy every night, fingernails caked with blood. he doesn't like that the stupid scar on his lip hasn't faded and he hates the fact that he didn't marry you first.

"f-fuck, toji...!" you squealed out, your face being smushed into the pillow as he pounded into you from behind, his grips on your hips bruising.

"yeah? you good?" he cheekily asked, a smug smirk on his face as you blabbered some nonsense out, insistently shaking your head yes.

it was just so unfair that he met you, his pretty neighbor, after he moved in. his relationship with his wife was already straining, he could feel her cold demeanor towards him every time they went to sleep.

but you were so nice to him and his kid, a warm smile on your face as you waved over to them. megumi liked you too, hell, toji was sure he liked you more than his own mother, and to top it all off, once you started babysitting megumi he couldn't control his emotions.

it took one night of too much alcohol and lust filled eyes and now, toji can no longer go two days without fucking your sweet pussy.

"let go, come on," he groaned, his scar twitching as he pressed slopping kisses down your spine, "tell me how much y'love me," his balls slapped lewdly against your pussy and he loved to sounds it made.

"love you, mpf! l-love you s'much toji," you whined out, fingers gripping his bedsheets as his thumb swiped down at your clit, your eyes rolling backwards at his motion. you could never last too long with toji, and he knew just what to do to make you unravel.

"good girl, fuck, you're so tight, so good f'me," he praised, his head dragging against your tight walls as he felt the two of you getting closer, "'gonna file the papers tomorrow, then yer finally and officially 'gonna be mine. like that? hm baby?"

you nodded again, words escaping your mouth as toji picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours as you felt yourself about the let go, your release just moments away from you.

"'m'yours toji, fuuuuck!" you promised, and that's all it took his him to sputter, filling you up as your walls clenched around him, your orgasm so quick, so sinful, so good that you almost passed out.

you would have if not for him leaning down to your ear, that shit-eating grin still on his face as he kissed your cheek,

"up fer another round? 'wanna risk it?"

and you nodded again, knowing that you could never say no to toji.

#toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji drabble #toji x you #toji x you smut #jjk drabble #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw: cheating #jujutsu kaisen

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choslut · 3 months ago

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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ ⌇ DRESS UP DOLL. featuring s. gojo.

↻ satoru gojo loves two things ; money, and playing dress up with his favourite girl.

tags : lingerie, daddy kink, light praise, creampie, possessive behaviour, spanking, light choking, hickeys, overstimulation (if you squint) // wc. 0.8k

author’s note : the first event work !! thank you for all the love you gave to the masterlist post, and i really hope n pray none of these works disappoint. love you all, notes n reblogs are appreciated <3

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

GOJO loves playing dress up. he has a whole wardrobe in his penthouse apartment filled to the brim with pretty dresses and matching designer purses, along with classy two piece suits and a shoe collection costing a decade’s worth of the minimum wage salary.

he’s proud of his clothing collection, but he’s more proud of the beautiful girl who gets to experience this lush and lavish collection of expensive designer clothing, his own dress up doll who he makes sure looks nice and pretty just for him.

tonight, he’s decided he won’t take you out for a date in the city. he could’ve called his driver, had you dressed in his favourite silk bodycon and sat in a tri-michelin star restaurant in under an hour, but satoru gojo doesn’t feel like sharing his special doll with the eyes of the commonfolk. no, tonight, he’s had you stay in, and he’s still managed to play dress up all the same, but this particular outfit is reserved for his eyes only.

“turn around for me, doll. wanna see that cute little ass of yours in that thong.” you turn yourself on his king size bed and bend over forwards, teeth digging into your bottom lip as he runs a slender finger just along the hem of your lace panties and under the elastic garter. “you like this set?”

“yes, daddy,” you respond, back arching and hips swaying when he snaps the elastic back onto your thigh. “it’s my favourite.”

gojo smiles. “you said this about the one I bought you last week, angel. maybe you just like spending my money.” he doesn’t take offence to the fact that so much of his funds are spent on you. in fact, he’s happy that he’s the one that gets to spoil you rotten, because no other common guy out there could give you even half of what he has.

“i want you to keep this on, okay?” his voice lowers to a soft croon, his large hands scoping the planes of your soft flesh before coming down hard, leaving slightly reddened palm marks against your skin. you nod shakily, and he smiles, toying with the belt on his pants before finally pulling them down to his thighs, along with his boxers to reveal his erect length.

even as he pushes the seat of your panties aside and teases your dripping hole with his tip, gojo can’t help but lament on how god damn pretty you are. your face being buried in the pillows causes your back to arch deliciously, and the way you groan when he slides all the way in has him fighting the urge to cum right then and there.

“you’re killin’ me, doll,” he groans, large hands moving from your ass to your hips, pulling you back on his length. “so fuckin’ pretty, and all mine, right?” you nod helplessly, fingers curling in the sheets when you feel his tip press up against your cervix.

“ ‘n you look so gorgeous in this set, doll. almost like it was made for me to buy it for you, huh?” he wants to ruin you. he wants to tear the lace right off of your back, leave it in tatters on the floor like a child tossing away wrapping paper on christmas day. but he won’t, because it cost him a sweet buck, and he actually likes the way you look in it.

from his position behind you, gojo drinks in the view of the bra clasp straining against your back, and the sight of your breasts pressing against the mattress through the lace, no doubt providing your nipples with delicious friction. his hand slides up to your shoulder and around your neck, pulling you up against his chest.

“mine,” he borderline growls in your ear, hips snapping brutally against your ass repeatedly. “you’re mine, doll. who do you belong to?”

“you, daddy!” tears stream from your eyes as his lips latch onto your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as you feel an all too familiar warm fluid being pumped into your spent cunt. your walls tighten, and suddenly you’re falling over the edge too, twitching in gojo’s grasp as you finally find your climax.

in your lust-drunken haze, you flop back onto the mattress, ass still up and folds leaking with cum as you huff into the pillows. gojo finally slides out, a low whistle sounding from his lips at the sight of you, still clad in your expensive lace as his release drips between your thighs. before it can reach the garter strap, he swipes it up with his fingers and pushes it back inside, smiling when he feels you begin to tremble.

“don’t worry, doll. i just wanted to make sure we don’t get my new favourite set dirty.”

PREVIOUS : N/A NEXT : SHARING IS CARING ft. toji fushiguro + shiu kong

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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1-800-kami · 1 year ago

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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.”

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?”

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex.

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.”

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

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