#you can determine his results
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incorrect-upon-a-witchlight · 4 months ago
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Gideon: you know, spellcasters hate this fact, but if you stick your fingers in their mouth while they’re casting a spell with a verbal component, it’s literally more effective than a counterspell
Gideon: Also works with pinning their hands against the wall when trying to use somatic components
Torbek: so basically…if Torbek was to make out sloppy style while pressing a spellcaster to the wall, they can’t do anything?
Gideon, doing finger guns: exactly
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hellokittyish · 2 months ago
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★ thinking about suguru being your academic rival, the unspoken competition between you beginning on the very first day of college when the advanced calculus professor handed out a brain teaser to help everyone settle in, only for you and suguru to be the only students able to solve it. the problem?
he finished it a second before you did.
and from then on, the two of you would compare everything: average GPA score, exam grades, pop quiz results, who could make the other cum quicker — oh yeah… how could you forget to mention the part where somewhere along the way, the tension between you managed to leak from the classroom into the bedroom. oops.
so that’s how you find yourself in your current position of trying to take suguru down your throat while he simultaneously attempts to ruin your focus by flicking the tip of his annoyingly talented tongue over your swollen clit.
“aww, is someone struggling?” he purrs, violet eyes boring into the back of your head while he continues his languid licks through your embarrassingly wet folds. “y’know… this could all be over right now if you just admit that you can’t keep up with me.”
“s-shut up,” you grumble weakly, briefly pulling off of his cock to speak with a lewd string of saliva connecting your heaving lips to the thick head. “i can keep up just fine.”
“oh, really?” he drawls, tone dripping with condescension while he trails a slender finger down the curve of your spine, causing your body to arch instinctively and sink down even further onto his mouth in response. “is that why you’re giving me a blowjob so bad that i’d think it was your first time if i didn’t know any better, hm?”
instead of using your mouth to shoot back another sharp retort; you decide to put it to better use by inhaling a deep, steadying breath and lowering it down on suguru’s length once again, taking him right to the base and fighting the urge to gag as his fat tip rubs against the back of your throat.
“s-shit,” he hisses through clenched teeth, his own ministrations forgotten entirely as his hips involuntarily buck upwards into your mouth. “if you don’t stop that i’m g-gonna fuckin’ cum.”
determined to make him lose control before you do, you start to bob your head up and down on his girth as fast as you can. but just when you begin to let yourself believe that you’re guaranteed to win this round, he pulls out one last trick from up his sleeve.
he bites your clit, sharp canines grazing the sensitive bud in a way that causes your throat to clamp down on his cock and your vision to flash white for a few long moments as your climax suddenly washes over you — but he’s faring no better either, a low groan spilling from his lips as thick ropes of his cum spurt straight down your throat.
“huh. guess we can call this round a tie then,” suguru hums in a frustratingly casual manner, pushing some stray raven hairs back from his forehead and flashing you a cat-like smile as you peer at him dazedly over your shoulder. “what do you say we make it the best of out of three tonight, hm?”
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theropoda · 2 months ago
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hello y'all, i know right now in the west where most of the tumblr userbase is it's christmas time: the season of giving, where people acrossthe world are buying many presents for their beloveds and decorations as well like christmas trees and lights in preparation for festivities. yet meanwhile, in the birthplace of christ himself, the man that this holiday celebrates, the palestinian people are suffering calamity and tragedy beyond anything any of us can comprehend. around the day people come to celebrate a mother's birth of a very special child, thousands of actual mothers and their children are experiencing the horrors of war.
one such mother and child is suad ahmed and her child khaled. khaled was born during the midst of this war, and as a result cannot grow in the safety and health a child deserves. he's currently very ill with a respiratory illness and his body, not even fully developed yet, fights so hard to live. i cannot imagine fighting for survival before even being a year old..
the best, most meaningful gift you can give to anyone this christmas, is support for the mother and child under war. this campaign is literally their lifeline, as all proceeds go to necessities like tents, clothing, food and water and baby formula. so please give what you can and share.
$41,002/$42,000
let's help her get to her short term goal!
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pseudowho · 3 months ago
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"Yuuji-- if you don't mind, can I ask you something?"
Yuuji looked up from his phone, feeling so grown up to be in the Jujutsu High staffroom with Kento. He raised his eyebrows, the scar across his lip tugging up.
"Uh...yeah, sure. Go crazy."
"What is scary dog privilege, exactly?"
"Scary dog privilege? Huh, well...let's see, uhm...so it's like..."
Yuuji explained, all peaches and wide eyes and animated hands. Kento nodded occasionally, listening intently. His mind, naturally, strayed to you; you were what this was all about, after all.
As with any thought of you (you being his blossoming latent obsession), Kento's stomach flipped, his grip tightening fractionally around his coffee.
Kento remembered.
He remembered when he dropped you home. You checked over your shoulder, again, and again, and again, before you unlocked your door and hurried inside.
He remembered how he had once walked up behind you without much thought, and you spun with panic in your eyes. Kento recalled how quickly you had relaxed, to see it was him, and how high his hope climbed as a result.
He remembered how you had spilled the contents of your bag. You snatched your pepper spray up in the hope that his keen eyes had missed it.
He remembered how you headed to the subway after a staff night out. Your keys had been curiously gripped between your fingers, a weapon that wasn't a weapon.
He remembered, how just the day before, he and you had walked together through central Tokyo to get lunch. You had sat on a park bench together, and Kento had been so overwhelmed by the need to hold it together, Kento, keep it together, that he barely registered the relief written on your skin.
You had eaten in comfortable silence, then leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way to the bins.
"Thanks for the scary dog privilege, Kento. It's the first time in a long time that I've relaxed in public."
Kento's eyes had drifted closed for just a few moments too long, with the warmth of your lips on his skin, and he stuttered, fumbling, unlike himself.
"Ah...scary...dog privilege?" He asked, quiet. But you were already gone; throwing your crumbs to the ducks.
Yuuji's voice snapped Kento out of memory, and back to the staffroom.
"Dunno if that makes sense, Nanamin?"
A molten pit of spite and rage ignited in Kento once he put two and two together. Scary dog privilege. He gave you scary dog privilege. Why was walking the streets in safety a privilege? Shit. Kento kept his voice level, patting Yuuji on the shoulder as he left, his steaming coffee abandoned.
"Thank you, Yuuji. Stay safe out there this afternoon, and call me when you're finished, please."
If Kento hadn't already felt dirty enough with the knowledge that he pleasured himself to thoughts of you every night, he felt worse, now. He stalked through the corridors of Jujutsu High, calling Ijichi, calling Shoko, determined to find you.
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Once you noticed how one man's gaze lingered on you, you noticed them all. To you, almost all seemed to do it, and to every woman, be they 18 or 80, tall or short or curvy or lithe or gay or straight or anywhere in between. Then, when you began to notice the gazes on 16 year olds, or 12 year olds, or--
You had nauseated by the time you turned the corner to grab lunch. Simultaneously built up and dragged down and accused, you were a madonna and a whore and a bitch. You wondered, vaguely, how deeply, how incurably the disease ran, as you entered the bustling café. You didn't want to think about it. You'd just grab food, and go, and--
"Ah. Good afternoon."
You blinked, to see Kento before you in the queue, and felt a warm burst of joy from your tummy to your toes.
"Kento, I'm...happier than you know, to see you, actually."
A satisfied hum. "I had a feeling you might be. Now...about something you said yesterday...."
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Nanami Kento didn't immediately strike one as a scary dog. He was built, yes, but his suits hid it well, and he was only a little taller than average, and really quite mild, but--
-- oh.
The way his glares could frost a soul. The way other men bounced off him, a stone wall, when a shoulder 'accidentally' hit his. The way his eyes found wayward gazes like a sniper, with the dulcet loading of a bullet behind his sneer. The silent commanding respect. The dares that other men would not dare.
It was no wonder, then, how you and Kento, became you and Shoko and Kento, became you and Shoko and Maki and Nobara and Kento. While individually able to fight your own fights, feeling Kento's scary dog privilege melt threats with acid, was a burden blissfully relieved.
With Kento's protective Midas' touch, your daily lunches turned to gold, unsullied and unmolested. Still...he was there for the whole group.
So why, then, in such a large group, did you look up to find his gaze on you, and only you? How could his eyes caress without staring? It was sorcery, surely.
Kento sequestered you one day, throwing his crumbs to the ducks alongside yours, as the others chatted on the benches behind you. You looked up, shooting him a sideways smile, and wondering how you could ever be good enough for him. He spoke quietly.
"I always believed a dog to have just one owner."
You felt your stomach twist with insinuation. You laid the thread.
"...oh?"
"And while I'm happy to offer my privileges to the benefit of a group, I...would like to be in the position to make such a privilege exclusive."
You swallowed hard, looking sideways again with hope against hope against hope against--
"Are you...saying you'd like to be my scary dog?"
"Very, very much so."
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northgazaupdates · 5 months ago
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SICK MOTHER AND INFANT TRAPPED IN GAZA
Suad Ahmad is an engineer from north Gaza. You can read all about Suad’s chaotic and terrifying situation in our tag “Suad Ahmad”.
Recently, Suad, her infant son Khaled, and their family fell under an evacuation order by the occupation, meaning their location would be invaded and further bombed at any time. They were forced to flee on foot, and were completely without a tent, forced to live in the streets and on the beach. The intense heat and sun continued to worsen Khaled’s ongoing chest infection, and insect attacks caused him to have an allergic reaction.
They managed to find a room in the home of an extended family member, which provided Khaled protection from heat and insects. However, the occupation then issued another evacuation order. Suad and her family fled the home within minutes of it being bombed by the occupation. The following photos were taken within 30 minutes of each other: the left being a photo taken on Khaled smiling in a bassinet, and the right being a photo taken of the same spot just a few minutes later.
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Currently, they are temporarily staying with another family. They hope to return to the home where they were and repair what remains of the room in which they were staying. However, this will not happen for some time.
Yesterday, Khaled began having coughing fits due to the constant presence of dust in the air. The dust is a result of the incessant bombings by the occupation, causing a cloud of debris, dirt, and toxic substances like asbestos to hang in the air. This has greatly aggravated his chest infection, and his fever has spiked once again. The debris dust has also caused Suad herself to suffer a negative reaction, including painful blotches on her skin.
Suad and Khaled are in desperate need of funds to survive. They require funds to procure medication, pay for what room and board they can find, receive food and water and formula for Khaled, and negotiate transportation for when they will need to evacuate again. In addition, they are raising funds to pay for documents that will allow them to evacuate Gaza through Rafah crossing. The crossing is believed by some to be opening soon, and we want Suad, Khaled, and their family to be able to evacuate as soon as possible.
Please support Suad and Khaled so that they can survive and find a better life.
SUPPORT LINK
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roturo · 7 months ago
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SUCCESSOR -`♡´-
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summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.
warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.
a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!
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You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.
L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:
He believes he’s going to die soon.
This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.
L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.
He needs a successor.
And soon.
Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.
You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.
Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.
The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.
“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.
You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”
He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”
Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”
You nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”
The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.
“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”
The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.
“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”
A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.
“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.
L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”
Finally, you made your decision.
One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.
“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.
“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”
For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”
You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”
L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”
You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience.  Should… we do it tonight?”
“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.
L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.
He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?
His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.
“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”
He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”
His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.
He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.
The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.
He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.
This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.
“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.
He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.
He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.
His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.
Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.
“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.
Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”
“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”
He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.
“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”
His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.
As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.
“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.
He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.
“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”
He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”
You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.
Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.
As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”
“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.
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olasketches · 7 months ago
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oh... oohhhhhh wait I see. I see how it is now.
I got it wrong lol.
I only focused on that one yuta chapter alone without looking at the entire arc as a whole... of course /this/ couldn't serve as wake up call for yuuji. yuuji has "unbreakable ideal(s)" (plural depending on what translation you look at). and as the narrator states
itadori yuuji always told himself he was nothing but a cog in a machine. that he'd fulfill his role as needed.
it's not just mentality, it's an ideal. an ideal he formed after shibuya, after sukuna's rampage and after his confrontation with mahito. yuuji views himself as a cog because he doesn't think he deserves to life. (I've talked about it here cause I have seen people saying how yuuji is suicidal and doesn't want to live but the thing is that he DOES want to live he just doesn't believe he deserves to and that's a big difference).
ok but what about his ideal to save people? what about his deep value for human life? you know, I've been wondering about that cause back then on his first mission he wanted to bring an inmate’s dead body to his mother and even got into an argument with megumi who insisted on leaving it behind… so why didn't he react after seeing yuta using his sensei's body as a flesh mecha? I mean what's up with that? what changed? and the reason for his lack of reaction is because he convinced himself he's just a cog.
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and it was that conviction, this ideal, that altered his old views and beliefs.
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you guys... a genuine question, do you think yuuji is gonna just roll with yuta's plan or not? like do you think he's gonna be cool with it considering that the only thing on his mind right now is to kill sukuna or yuta's plan is going to serve as some kind of wake up call for him?
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fangdokja · 17 days ago
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🔞You’re his project, and he’s determined to get you right.
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❤︎ Synopsis. A quiet genius watches from the shadows, studying every detail of your life with obsessive precision—until one night, his fixation turns darker, and you become the subject of his twisted, unrelenting experiment. In his world, nothing is left to chance, and you’re the only variable he can’t control.
♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
♡ Pairing. Yandere! Nerd x Fem. Reader
♡ Headcanon. Beyond the Data - Part 1
♡ Word Count. 5,132
♡ TW. dom + top + older + sadistic yandere, general non-con + manipulation, rape, BDSM, somnophilia, drugging, stalking, forced oral, invasion of privacy, non-con photography and filming, intoxication kink, dumbification, slapping, degradation, humiliation, forced penetration, forced anal, name calling, slut shaming
♡ His Story. No one else noticed the quiet boy in the corner, but he’s all you’ll notice now.
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♡ Yandere! Nerd who is the last person you’d expect to command fear—or obsession. The invisible boy in the corner of the lecture hall, whose name you can never seem to remember. Just another cog in the academic machine, unnoticed and unremarkable.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who didn’t always hate you. At first, he didn’t even notice you. Why would he? You were a speck in his meticulously ordered world of formulas and research papers. He’d glance over you like a book’s preface—skimming, dismissive, uninterested. You weren’t worth his attention, and he wasn’t one for distractions.
Until you were.
♡ Yandere! Nerd whose hatred began with quiet disdain. He couldn’t stand the way you disrupted the sanctity of his intellectual space. Your kindness was a flaw, a weak and irritating crack in the facade of academia. The way you lent your notes to struggling classmates, stayed late to tutor those who would never return the favor.
“Naïve,” he muttered once under his breath, watching you push a stack of papers toward a crying peer. “They’re just using you.”
But you didn’t care. You never did.
♡ Yandere! Nerd whose resentment festered in the shadows. Watching your muted empathy, your small, unnoticed acts of kindness, twisted his stomach in ways he couldn’t understand. You were supposed to fail. You were supposed to get crushed beneath the weight of your own optimism, yet you didn’t.
And that infuriated him.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who told himself he hated you because you were soft, too forgiving, too simple. But the truth was far darker. You represented something he’d never had—a warmth that lingered in the spaces between your quiet gestures. A kindness that was not weakness, but strength. You had no armor, and yet you thrived.
It fascinated him. It enraged him.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who lived a life of quiet detachment. He wasn’t bullied in school—no, he was too invisible for that. Teachers praised his brilliance, but no one remembered his name. His height, his looming presence, the stretch of taut muscle beneath oversized sweaters—they didn’t matter when he kept to himself, a ghost haunting the edges of the classroom.
Invisibility was his refuge, and he sharpened his mind in its silence.
♡ Yandere! Nerd whose physical strength was a quiet secret. Long hours spent weightlifting in the dim light of the university gym weren’t for vanity—they were an escape, a distraction, a way to channel the dark energy gnawing at him. But he never cared about the results.
The thick-framed glasses, the slouching posture, the ill-fitting cardigans—these were his camouflage. No one saw him. No one looked past the surface.
Except you.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins his descent like any good scientist—methodically. It starts as observation, the kind you’d expect from someone who’s spent his life reducing the world into formulas and equations. You are a variable, an anomaly, something he must decode to restore order to his meticulously organized life.
But the more he observes, the less he understands. And the more it drives him mad.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who tells himself it’s harmless at first. Watching you from across the library, tracking the soft scratch of your pen as it glides over your notebook. He doesn’t even realize he’s memorized the way your eyebrows knit together in concentration, or how you chew the corner of your lip when you’re stuck on a problem.
It’s data. Just data.
But the data begins to haunt him.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins cataloging you like a research subject. He keeps a notebook tucked into the bottom drawer of his desk, hidden beneath a pile of unfinished assignments. Every detail about you goes into it: the time you arrive at class (always ten minutes early), the number of steps you take to reach your favorite seat, the precise way the sunlight catches your hair at 3:17 p.m. on the third floor of the library.
He calls it fieldwork to justify the growing obsession.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who found himself lingering at the edges of your world, desperate for scraps. The smell of your shampoo as you walked past. The faint imprint of your handwriting left on discarded papers.
You didn’t notice the way his hands flexed when you leaned too close to another classmate, or the way his jaw clenched when someone touched your arm.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who is painfully aware of how wrong it is. He’s not stupid. He knows that following you home, counting the number of locks on your door, isn’t something a sane person does. But logic isn’t enough to stop him.
You’re a virus in his brain, disrupting his calculations, infecting his thoughts with something he doesn’t know how to purge. You grate on him in all the wrong ways, the way a scratch disrupts a perfect vinyl record. He hates you for it. He hates you because he can’t stop.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who turns his obsession into an experiment. He programs an algorithm to track your social media activity, compiling your posts, photos, and even deleted comments into a neat timeline. He bookmarks the articles you share, cataloging your interests, your values, your humor.
It’s not enough. It’s never enough.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who upgrades his methods when simple observation no longer satisfies. He rigs a tiny camera outside the lecture hall, angled perfectly to catch the way you sit, the absent way you tap your foot when you’re bored. He sets up a recording app on his phone to capture the sound of your voice in class discussions, replaying it later as though decoding a foreign language.
He tells himself it’s for research. He just needs to understand you.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who learns your patterns better than you know them yourself. He can predict where you’ll be at any given time—your favorite coffee shop at 8:43 a.m., the library desk in the northeast corner by 6:12 p.m., your solitary walks through the park on Sunday mornings.
He times his own movements to yours, ensuring you never notice his presence, never feel the weight of his gaze. It’s a game to him now—a test of his own skill.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who hacks into your student profile. It’s easy, really, a puzzle too simple to satisfy his intellect. But he doesn’t do it for the challenge; he does it to see your schedule, your grades, the tiny notes professors leave about you.
“Exceptional work ethic,” one professor writes, and he feels a strange swell of pride, as though your achievements are his own.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins collecting physical traces of you. A pen you leave behind in class, its cap chewed and frayed. A receipt from the coffee shop, crumpled and discarded. A strand of hair caught in the strap of your backpack.
Each item is cataloged and stored in a small box beneath his bed, a grotesque shrine to the person you’ll never realize he’s built.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who upgrades his “research” to something darker. He creates a fake identity to join your online study group, posing as a fellow student struggling with the material. It gives him access to your unfiltered thoughts, your casual messages and inside jokes.
The first time you reply to his fake account with a laughing emoji, his heart races. He hates himself for it, for the pathetic thrill it gives him, but he keeps going.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who hated you because you didn’t need him. You were brilliant in your own quiet way, a top student who never flaunted your achievements. You had what he lacked: empathy. Warmth. The ability to be seen without being scrutinized.
But the more he learns, the more he realizes something crucial:
He doesn’t want to study you anymore. He wants to control you.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who justifies it all as self-preservation. You’re the one invading his mind, disrupting his focus, ruining his carefully constructed life. If he could just fix you—if he could break you down into something manageable, something his mind could dominate—then he’d finally have peace.
But until then, he’ll keep collecting his data, keep tightening the web around you. Because in his world, nothing is left unresolved.
And you, his most maddening equation, will not be the exception.
———
♡ Yandere! Nerd who loathes admitting weakness—especially emotions as primal and irrational as jealousy. To him, emotions are nothing but noise, disrupting the signal of his perfectly calibrated mind. But when he sees you with the student council president, laughing, leaning close, sharing those little stolen moments, that noise becomes deafening.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who bristles at the mere sight of him. The president, all polished charm and perfect manners, standing too close to you, lingering too long in your orbit. It’s infuriating how you light up around him, your shy, carefully guarded smiles breaking into easy laughter. It’s infuriating how he can’t simply classify this feeling as irrational anger.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who watches the subtle chemistry between you and the president unfold like a slow-motion car crash. The president’s hand brushing yours as he passes you a folder. The way he leans in slightly when you speak, as though hanging on your every word. And worst of all, the way you don’t pull away.
♡ Yandere! Nerd whose jealousy turns into something darker when he overhears the president call you “special.”
It’s a simple word, tossed casually into a conversation, but it ignites a fire in his chest that he can’t put out. Special? You’re special to him? No, that’s wrong. That’s his word for you, even if he’s never dared to say it out loud.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who recognizes his jealousy with clinical detachment. He hates you for making him feel this way—off-kilter, vulnerable, human. He hates the president even more for daring to tread on what’s his, for invading the carefully cultivated space he’s built around you.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who tells himself it’s not jealousy—it’s concern. He’s only protecting you from someone who might not have your best interests at heart. After all, the president isn’t as perfect as he seems. He’s seen the cracks in that polished facade, the weaknesses he could exploit if necessary.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins to sabotage the president in small, insidious ways. A corrupted file here, a misplaced document there. Minor inconveniences that disrupt the president’s perfect image, planting seeds of doubt in those around him.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who knows this isn’t sustainable. The jealousy, the hatred, the dark fantasies that creep into his mind every time he sees you with the president—it’s all spiraling out of control. He needs to act, to take back the control that’s slipping through his fingers.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who tells himself he doesn’t need you to love him back. He just needs to remove the variables—the distractions, the threats.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins plotting his next move with the cold, calculating precision of a scientist. Because if he can’t have you, no one else will.
———
♡ Yandere! Nerd finally went through with his main plan, a way to make you see him, to make you need him. He pulled out a small vial of clear liquid, his heart racing as he approached you. "Tonight," he murmured to himself, "I'll finally get what I deserve."
With meticulous care, he mixed the potent sleeping agent into the cup of drink you'd left on your nightstand. It was your favorite. He knew it was your go-to drink for winding down after a long day.
As your eyelids grew heavy and your breathing deepened, he approached you, his steps silent on the plush carpet. He set the drugged tea aside and gently lifted your limp body, placing you in the center of the bed. He couldn't help but admire you, the way you looked so innocent, so vulnerable.
It was intoxicating, and he felt a perverse sense of satisfaction knowing he was about to shatter that purity.
♡ Yandere! Nerd undressed you with trembling hands, his eyes greedily taking in every curve and line of your body. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent under your breath, but the drugs held firm. He took his time, savoring each moment as he stripped away your layers of clothing. When you were bare, he stepped back to appreciate his handiwork, his erection straining against his pants. He felt like a sculptor revealing a masterpiece hidden beneath a layer of marble.
With a predatory smile, he unbuckled his belt and stepped closer to the bed. He leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck. "Do you know how much I've wanted this?" he whispered, his voice thick with lust. You murmured something indistinct, lost in the fog of the drugs. "No," he chuckled, "you don't. But you will."
♡ Yandere! Nerd grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that you couldn't control. You whimpered, a sound that only served to excite him further. He didn't need your consent—not really. You were his to use, to break, to shape into the perfect specimen. His hands roamed over your body, leaving bruises in their wake as he explored every inch of your skin. Each touch was a declaration of ownership, a promise of what was to come.
He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes glittering with a dark excitement as he took in your unconscious form. His hands, rough and calloused from countless hours in the gym and lab, caressed your inner thighs, spreading them apart with a gentle cruelty.
You were his now, a blank canvas for his twisted desires. He didn't bother with foreplay; your pleasure was inconsequential. It was all about the thrill of taking what he wanted.
With a grunt, he plunged into you, his thick cock stretching your sleep-loosened pussy. You gasped, a sound that was half-moan, half-whimper, as he filled you completely.
♡ Yandere! Nerd didn't bother to hold back, his hips slamming into yours with the precision of a machine. You were just a receptacle for his lust, a means to an end. Each thrust was a declaration of dominance, a silent claim that you belonged to him and him alone.
As he fucked you, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear—degrading names that made your skin crawl.
"Dumb fucking slut," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony that seemed to echo in the quiet room. "You're mine now. No one else will ever touch you like this." His words were a blend of anger and adoration, a twisted love letter to the girl who'd unwittingly captured his attention.
Your body responded despite the haze of the drugs. You arched your back, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming even through the fog. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but your body was his plaything, reacting on instinct alone.
♡ Yandere! Nerd noticed your involuntary movements and smirked, his strokes becoming more deliberate, more punishing.
"That's it," he cooed, his breath hot against your skin. "You love it, don't you? Being used like a cheap slut."
As he pounded into you, he reached for his phone, the screen casting a harsh blue light across the room.
♡ Yandere! Nerd began to record, capturing every moan and whimper, every tear that slipped from your closed eyes. He'd study this footage later, memorize your reactions, learn what made you squirm and beg.
It was all for science, for understanding. But deep down, he knew it was more than that—it was about power.
Your legs trembled around him, a silent plea for mercy that went unheard. You were lost in the haze of the drugs, unable to form coherent thoughts. The only reality was the relentless pressure building inside you, the way his cock filled and emptied you with a rhythm that seemed to echo through your soul. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, a nightmare wrapped in the guise of pleasure.
♡ Yandere! Nerd reached down and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he watched your face contort with pain.
"Look at me," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. You tried to focus on him through the fog, your glazed eyes fluttering open to meet his. He was so close, his face a twisted mask of desire and something else—something darker.
"You're mine," he said again, his voice a hiss in the quiet room. "You're mine to fuck, to use, to break."
♡ Yandere! Nerd grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his as he continued to fuck you with a ferocity that seemed to come from a place beyond obsession. His hand was slick with the sweat that coated your body, his grip tight as he held you in place.
The camera's cold eye recorded everything, the unblinking gaze of his twisted love. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on your face as he whispered, "Look at how much I own you, bitch."
Your eyes rolled back in your head, a silent protest to the waves of pain and pleasure that crashed over you. His other hand reached down to rub at your clit, his movements rough and unyielding.
♡ Yandere! Nerd watched with clinical interest as your body responded, his own pleasure mounting with each twitch and jerk of your hips.
"You're going to cum for me," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You're going to cum and show me how much you love being used."
You feel his hand leave your chin, instead wrapping around your throat, squeezing just tight enough to cut off your air, but not enough to cause you to pass out. His eyes bore into yours, demanding your full attention. your vision swims, and your breath hitches as he continues to thrust into you.
His other hand is still on your clit, the harsh strokes matching the rhythm of his hips. Each time you're about to slip away into unconsciousness, he loosens his grip slightly, allowing you to gasp for breath. The mix of oxygen deprivation and intense pleasure is a heady cocktail, making your body respond in ways you never knew it could.
The drugs he'd administered had reached their peak effectiveness, plunging you into a state of absolute vulnerability.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, and your body went slack as he continued his brutal assault, his cock hammering into your swollen, abused pussy with a merciless rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of agony crashing through you, but your mind was too far gone to process it as anything other than a distant sensation.
You were nothing more than a ragdoll in his grip, a toy for his sadistic pleasure.
♡ Yandere! Nerd whispers lowly, "You're so fucking beautiful like this," his voice thick with lust as he watched your body spasm beneath him.
"So dumb and helpless. It's like you're begging for it." He leaned in, his teeth grazing your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and moist.
"You love this, don't you, bitch? Being fucked by someone who sees through all your bullshit?" His hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your air once again.
Your body succumbs to the overwhelming stimulation, a series of intense orgasms rip through you, one after the other. You're too high and too intoxicated to fully understand what's happening, but the raw pleasure is undeniable.
You feel like a marionette with cut strings, your body responding to his touch without thought or resistance.
Each time you climax, a strangled gasp escapes your throat, your eyes rolling back in your head as your back arches off the bed.
♡ Yandere! Nerd watches with a mix of triumph and fascination, his own pleasure building as he takes in your complete and utter surrender.
"Good girl," he murmurs, the praise sticking in your throat like a knife. "Take it all for me." His strokes become more erratic as his own orgasm approaches, his breath hitching in his chest.
The hand around your throat tightens, the pressure increasing until your vision starts to fade. Just when you think you can't handle anymore, he slams into you one last time, his body stiffening as he cums deep inside you. He holds you there, his cock pulsing, his grip on your throat unyielding until he's drained himself completely.
With a sick sense of satisfaction, he watches the last twitches of your body as the drugs overtake you fully.
♡ Yandere! Nerd withdraws his cock, already planning the next round of his twisted experiment. His eyes rake over your limp form, noticing the way your breasts rise and fall with each shallow breath, the way your pussy glistens with his cum and your own juices.
He can't resist the urge to touch you, to play with his new toy, so he starts snapping pictures and recording videos, capturing every inch of your exposed flesh from various angles.
♡ Yandere! Nerd positions your unresponsive body into various degrading poses, each one more obscene than the last.
The camera clicks away, capturing every angle as he spreads your legs wide and fills your pussy with his cum. His eyes never leave the viewfinder as he watches the white fluid ooze out of you, painting your thighs and stomach with his ownership.
He's methodical in his approach, treating you like a living, breathing doll. With each picture and video taken, his arousal builds, his cock swelling and pulsing with the need to claim you again.
"Wake up," he whispers, his voice a dark promise.
♡ Yandere! Nerd slaps your cheek harshly, leaving a vivid red handprint, before he waits for any sign of consciousness. When you don't respond, he sighs and shakes his head.
"Too much, huh?" He reaches down and slaps you again, this time harder. "You're going to learn to wake up for me." His hand travels down to your clit, giving it a cruel pinch that makes your body jerk despite your unconscious state.
With your unconscious body still splayed out before him, the his hunger is far from satisfied. He takes a moment to appreciate the scene, his cock standing erect and gleaming with lust.
♡ Yandere! Nerd shifts you onto your stomach, the soft curves of your ass begging for his attention. He lines himself up with your wet, puckered hole and slams into you without warning, the sound of his hips slapping against your flesh echoing through the room.
He groans in pleasure as he feels the tightness of your ass clench around him, the drugs in your system making you even more pliable and responsive than usual.
"You're going to love this," he murmurs, his voice low and menacing as he starts to fuck you roughly. Each thrust is punctuated by a smack to your ass, the sound of his hand connecting with your flesh filling the room.
You whimper in your sleep, the pain and pleasure mixing together in your hazy mind. He reaches around to play with your clit, his rough fingers bringing you closer to the edge of consciousness with each pass. "You're so tight," he grunts, his teeth gritted with effort. "So fucking tight."
♡ Yandere! Nerd flips you over again, your limp body now lying on your back, your legs hanging over the edge of the bed. He takes a moment to capture the perfect shot of your exposed pussy, the way your swollen lips are parted and dripping with cum and your own arousal. He's in no rush; he's got all night.
For hours, he treats your body like a fuck-toy, his cock sliding in and out of you in a series of depraved positions that he's been dreaming about for so long.
The camera captures everything—the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, the arch of your back as he takes you from behind, the way your eyes roll back in your head even in your drug-induced slumber.
♡ Yandere! Nerd continues to whisper degrading names in your ear, calling you his little fuckdoll, his rape toy, his property. His hand tightens around your neck, his other hand playing with your clit, your body responding to his touch despite your lack of consciousness.
♡ Yandere! Nerd takes you in every conceivable way, his cock a blur as he snaps photos and records videos for his twisted collection. He loves the way your body reacts to him, the way your pussy clenches around him when you're on the brink of an involuntary orgasm.
It's like watching a science experiment unfold before his very eyes, a symphony of pain and pleasure that he's orchestrated to perfection.
And the best part? You'll never remember a thing.
"Mm, you're so obedient when you're like this," he says, his voice thick with lust as he pulls out of your ass and flips you onto your stomach again.
♡ Yandere! Nerd spreads your cheeks wide, his cock sliding through your folds as his hand grips your mouth. "Open up, bitch. Time to swallow your medicine."
With a sadistic smirk, he positions his cock at your open, drooling mouth. He's already painted your cheeks and chin with his cum, a grotesque mask of his dominance. Your eyes remain closed, lashes fluttering with the fading aftermath of your forced orgasms. He pushes the tip of his cock past your lips, watching them stretch around his girth.
♡ Yandere! Nerd films as he slams his cock down your throat, watching the way your cheeks bulge with each thrust. Your tongue is limp and unresponsive, but it doesn't matter—the sight of your mouth filled with his cum is all he needs.
He holds your head steady, pushing deeper and deeper until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag around his length. He loves the sound, the way your body fights against his intrusion even as you lie there, helpless and drugged.
"That's it," he croons, his eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. "Swallow it all for me. Show me how much of a good rape toy you can be." He keeps fucking your mouth, his hips snapping against your face with increasing ferocity. You're just a vessel for his pleasure, a receptacle for his anger and frustration.
♡ Yandere! Nerd pulls out with a wet pop, leaving your mouth gaping and coated in his seed. He takes a moment to admire the view before sliding his cock back into your pussy, groaning as he feels your wet warmth envelop him once more. He's lost in his own depraved world, the camera capturing every sickening detail of his violation.
"Look at you," he says, his voice a mix of disgust and admiration.
"You're just a mindless fuck-doll when you're like this." He fists your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of bites that you'll feel tomorrow, a constant reminder of his power over you.
"But tomorrow, you'll go back to being the perfect little student, won't you?" He bites down harder, making you whimper in your sleep. "You'll sit in class with no idea that you're mine."
His camera clicks away as he captures every depraved moment of his violation. Your unconscious moans and whimpers fill the room, a testament to his cruel touch.
♡ Yandere! Nerd records from various angles, making sure to get close-ups of your gaping mouth and the way your eyes water around his cock. His hands are rough, holding you in place as he uses your body for his own sick pleasure. The camera zooms in on your throat as he fucks your face, the veins bulging as he forces himself deeper and deeper.
He pulls out of your mouth with a wet, gagging sound, your saliva and cum dripping down your chin. He smirks at the pathetic mess you've become under his control.
Grabbing a back-up phone, he takes several more pictures of your face—your swollen, bitten lips, your tear-stained cheeks, the drool pooling around your chin. Then he moves lower, taking shots of your bruised pussy and asshole, both gaping open and leaking his cum. He zooms in on the mess he's made of you, capturing every detail with a disturbing sense of pride.
♡ Yandere! Nerd continues his sadistic play, his hand moving to your throat once more as he whispers his degrading comments into your ear. "You're nothing but a damn pornstar, aren't you?"
He leans in closer, his hot breath tickling your ear. "Look at you, trying to wake up. Don't worry, I'll make sure you won't remember a thing, prostitute."
With a chuckle, he slaps you across the face—hard enough to leave a red handprint, but not hard enough to rouse you fully. The sound echoes through the room, a stark contrast to the muffled squelches of your forced union.
———
♡ Yandere! Nerd who finally admitted it to himself in the aftermath of this night, in the suffocating silence of his apartment. It wasn’t hatred. It wasn’t admiration. It was possession. You didn’t belong in a world that appreciated you.
You belonged to him, as a dumb fuckdoll for him to use and discard as he pleases.
♡ Yandere! Nerd who never intended for it to go this far. But as he crouched over your crumpled form, his hand brushing the soft curve of your cheek, he realized there was no going back.
“Do you see me now, fuckdoll?” he murmured, his voice growling with a strange mix of triumph and obsession.
And, he was still far from done. He has all night, and more.
────────────
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General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth
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milawritess · 1 month ago
Text
Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow — Gojo Satoru
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pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
synopsis: crushed by the pressure of his work, Satoru and the reader's relationship begins to spiral. You do everything you can to make him happy, but you fear it's not enough. Maybe it never was. After a miscalculation that could have resulted in innocent lives being lost, the situation takes a turn for the worse.
Word count: 17k+ (I'm sorry in advance)
genre: heavy angst with happy ending
warnings: heavy angst, swearing, reader is a motherly figure to Megumi but their relationship is a bit strained, mentions of depression and self-doubt, reader is a sorcerer, fighting, insecurity, arguments, and breakups (?), descriptions of gore, mentions of sexual intercourse (mdni), depictions of a complicated and untraditional relationship, reader gets hurt, hardly edited/proofread (oops), gojo is fed up and mean :(
a/n: this is the first and longest thing I've ever posted on here lol. I felt like there was a lack of sorcerer!reader, so I played around with that concept a little bit. other than potentially shitty writing (sorry for any typos or grammatical errors), I truly hope you enjoy <3
sequel & blurbs
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“Get out.”
The hash sentiment lingers, hanging heavily in the air. 
“Well, hello to you too.”
He hears your feet shuffle across the floor as you stumble to take your shoes and coat off. “I just came to check on you.”
“And I’m fine,” he responds without moving, one arm up, draping over his aching eyes. He lies on the living room couch, one lanky leg propped up at an angle.
“You’re clearly not fine,” you respond, seeming unphased. “Have you eaten anything?” You ask, waiting for a response that never comes. “Okay, I’ll make your favorite ramen.” 
He feels the side of the couch dip, your hand settling on his chest. Your fingers were greedy like you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with the fabric or caressing his taut muscles. Your voice is gentler when you speak this time. “Do you want an ice pack? Some tea?”
You two have done this dance before. You come home to find him exhausted, overworked with a migraine that could tranquilize an elephant. And just like always, you carefully slip his shoes off and unbutton the sleek black jacket to his uniform. It’s hard for him to stay mad about anything when you’re this kind, this caring. 
“Satoru, please say something.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
Your voice was so gentle. So sweet, saccharine, and so fucking patient. A voice you only ever reserved for him and for his ears only. A gentle whisper carried in a gentle breeze. It was his favorite sound. 
But not tonight. 
So you try something else. Sweet kisses along the corner of his lips. You’re even bold enough to move his arm, the arm he was using to desperately block out any light or simulation. You kiss his eyelids, his forehead, and cheeks—feather-light. Your hand slides up his chest before reaching his face. You caress your thumb under his closed eyes, and your other hand finds his hair, gently massaging his temple. He has all of you. Every bit. 
“Let me take care of you.” If it were any other night, your breath fanning his neck would have shattered him; goosebumps would have wrecked his body, he’d shiver, and everything in him would ease, and all of his stress would slip away into nothingness. He never had to be the strongest with you. You would render him down to nothing but a simple man with just a few words. “You don’t look too good, honey. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” For a woman so strong in your own right, a woman of unyielding dignity and poise and unwavering determination to succeed, this is his favorite side of you. 
But not tonight. 
When his hand clasps your wrist, he feels your whole body freeze against his. Maybe you were surprised. Maybe you predicted this and were preparing yourself but-
The tongue-lashing dies in his throat when he opens his eyes. Just a peak to your face makes him falter. You were pouting. Worried. “I’m fine.” it’s harsher than you deserve but kinder than the thoughts swirling through his head a second ago. 
He’s agitated. Stuck in the same old system that continues to fuck him over—his students over. 
And yet, you just looked too beautiful. 
You pull away, finally taking the hint. Then, you stand, fully removing yourself from him and stepping away. Your body heat quickly disappears from where you once sat, and he quivers. The room was quiet once again. 
The room remained quiet even as you placed a hot bowl of ramen on the table beside him, a glass of water, and two pills. 
You slept alone that night. 
-
You remember when you first met Megumi. 
“Who the hell are you?” 
You never would have expected that to be the the words from a child you had just met. You raised a brow. “Well, aren’t you a fucking, brat?” 
You were different back then—colder, angrier. You were similar in that sense.
Oddly enough, maybe that’s what gravitated him to you.  
You’re not sure when it happened, but gradually, the harsh edges of you began to… change. Not entirely softened, as thorns remained, but you bloomed, red petals and all. You grew softer, kinder, more patient—and finally—your heart had made space for others. The fear of loss remained, but you had never cared for someone so fragile. No one had ever cried for you, reached for you with small chubby fingers, or depended on you as he once had. You never had someone in your life that needed to be nurtured, protected, and guided. 
He was just a boy. 
Over time, you realized that if you remained unchanged, perhaps he would never grow into the man he needed to be. You’re not sure why he picked you, why he looked up to you of all people, but he did. He found comfort in you and followed you like a little duckling with a little waddle and permanent scowl. 
There wasn't a rhyme or reason. He chose you, and you chose him. 
Soon enough, you were waking him up for school, running your hands through his messy, dark locks. You were making him bento boxes, running to parent-teacher conferences, and having hard but meaningful conversations with him in his room about his troubling behavior. 
Then you were hugging him as he cried, as he revealed the same dark thoughts you once had about yourself. 
You wished this world wasn’t so cruel, so dark. You hope that in a different life, he would have grown into a normal kid, with hopes and dreams and a list of things he wanted to do and go out and experience. You didn’t want him to be shackled to a world that’s left you so scarred.
You fought for any sense of normality you could give him. If that meant confronting the higher-ups, so be it. At times, you even confronted Satoru. 
He was just a boy. 
Fire never harmed you;  it never dared to scorch your skin. You commanded and held domination over nearly every flicker of heat. He was so small when you met him; you remember the first time you saw his small form shiver in the cold. It made you anxious. Despite buying him the heaviest winter coat you could find, you were beside yourself, always wondering—is he warm enough? 
But, long were the days of you bundling him up in his jacket, tying his shoes, and tugging beanies over his dark hair and red ears. Long were the days of you clasping his little hands in yours to bring them warmth when the air grew too bitter. He grew older, smarter, wiser, and stronger. The boy that used to cling to your skirt after a hard day at school now stood inches taller than you. 
You knew that one day he’d leave you, and you were okay with that. Seeing him so ready for the world made you happy. You worried—of course you still worried—but you were so proud. He was hesitant, unsure at times, and sometimes even looked back to you for assurance. 
You were always there, smiling, ushering him along. 
You can do it. I believe in you. 
You grew up together, you think. Sometimes, you wondered if he ever paid for your shortcomings, or if he remembered your failures as a caregiver, but just like you did him, he’d assure you with a soft nudge and a gentle smile. 
He knows you did the best you could with what you had.  
He was just a boy. 
Your boy. 
He wasn’t yours, but you loved him like he was. Only as he grew did you realize the lines you had crossed. 
He doesn’t remember his mother, but you’re sure he remembered her smile, perhaps her touch, or the sound of her laughter. You never meant to impose on her memory.
When it happened, he had just gotten into Tokyo Jujutsu High, and Satoru took him on his first official mission. You no longer had the means of pushing this off; you couldn’t beg Satoru or the higher-ups for another month, another week, another day. Megumi wasn’t a normal kid. He was a sorcerer and needed to start fulfilling his duties and mastering his technique.
“You can’t avoid the inevitable. You can’t protect him forever,” Satoru had once told you. 
You knew he was right. 
You stayed home that day, anxious and worried, but you knew Megumi would be alright. Satoru was with him. Even if the tall man was a bit harder on Megumi than you, you knew he’d keep him safe. 
However, your worst fears came to fruition. Megumi wasn’t the same after that mission. 
You remember. Satoru’s eyes were stern that night while Megumi's eyes never left the floor as he made his way to his room. 
You remember thinking—what could I do to make my boys happy again? 
After all, they were your everything, the reason you stood here now with a full heart. Things were newer for you and Satoru then, but he kissed you that night, warm, large hands gently holding your cheeks. He missed you a little bit extra that day. You were nervous, hesitant to fall into the sanctuary of his embrace, but it was only a matter of time until you were fully, devotedly his.
 “Are you okay?” You had asked, only for him to nod his head. 
“Yeah. Of course, I am, angel. Megumi is shaken up, but he’ll be alright too.” 
You made Megumi’s favorite dinner that night—the same beefsteak he’s raved about since he was only six. Well, he never raved, but you perfectly remember the first time you made it, which happened to be the first time he tried it. He could barely get his chin over the table to scope his food into his mouth. He wasn’t good with chopsticks yet, so he used a little fork, which he held in his tiny fist. His little eyebrows raised before dipping down, creasing at the inner corners as he concentrated on the flavor. He murmured it’s good, and you remember being so proud of yourself. That was one of the first times you felt that you were doing something right by him. You made the same dish on occasion, and time only helped you perfect the recipe. 
Megumi never came out of his room that night. The lights were off when you knocked. Even after hearing no response, you had cracked open the door, poking your head inside. 
“Gumiii,” you stepped into his room. He was on his bed, groaning as you flicked the light on. He turned his back to you. “I made your favoriteee.”  
You had sat on the edge of his bed, a hot plate of food in your hands. “C’mon, it’s the beefsteak you like. Nice and warm.”
“‘m not hungry,” he had grumbled. 
You sighed. “The mission must have been unpleasant.” He remained still. “I’m sorry, Gumi. Satoru said you did well! I’m proud of you—” he flinched from your touch, snapping his arm away from your reach. You froze, having felt the coldness of his rejection. “If you don’t want to talk about the mission, how was your first day at your new school?” You asked. “Do you have any classmates you like?”
“Just quit it already…” he had murmured. “I’m not in the mood.”
Your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re okay. My first mission was tough too, and you already know I wasn’t great at making friends either–” you winced, biting your tongue.  This was coming out all wrong. “… are you okay, Megumi?” 
“I’m fine!” He clipped, pushing himself upright in bed. “Just leave me alone and stop acting like you’re my mom already!”  
You remembered—and just the memory of that night shambled your heart. You could never forget the hurt those words caused and how you couldn’t show it. 
You had smiled wearily. Then, you placed his dinner on his desk. “…you’re right,” you echoed. “I’m not her, never could be. I’m sorry if I imposed. I never meant to.”
You never spoke of the incident, but you remembered that things were tense between Satoru and Megumi for a short while after that. You told Satoru to drop it, but you had a feeling the poor boy received a tongue-lashing from Satoru. You were never sure, though, and you could never prove it. 
You just remembered feeling cracks in the foundation of the home you never knew you had so carefully crafted, brick by brick. Some of the warmth was gone—a warmth you never knew was quite there until it wasn’t. 
Little by little, you pulled back. Megumi moved into the student dorms shortly after, and he needed you less and less. You no longer made him bento boxes or his favorite beefsteak. You bit your tongue with the lectures: Megumi, that’s not nice, or Megumi, you need to have more faith in yourself. You can do it.  
Though the bitter bite of cold never entirely touched you, heated by an unquenchable fame, you pulled back your hand when you reached for him. He left you seared—burned. 
You still worried. You never knew if you were giving him too much or not enough. So, you left most of the mentoring to Satoru now.  It’s been a few months since the incident, and now you only ever speak to him if he approached you first. 
That's why you were happy when you spotted him in town. You offered him a small, shy wave. He unexpectedly approached you and asked how you were and what you’d been up to. However, the most unexpected part was when he asked if you were busy. You shook your head, and it was impossible to hide you beam when he offered to get you hot chocolate from the same coffee shop you used to take him to after school in the colder months.
However, it seemed you weren’t the only one confused by Satoru’s recent behavior. 
“Huh?”
“Gojo didn’t want me going on my mission,” Megumi reiterated. 
You blink a few times, tapping your fingers against the styrofoam cup in your hands. “Huh. He’s never done that before.”
“He doesn’t think I’m ready. He took the mission himself.”
“He said that? That he doesn’t think you’re ready?”
“Well… not exactly.” He scowls slightly, looking down at the cup of hot chocolate. “But he damn well implied it.”
“Gumi,” you frown at the boy. He doesn’t make eye contact with you; he looks forward now, gazing out the window and watching the fresh snow coat the ground. 
He was upset. 
“He could’ve at least taken me with him.”
For a moment, you see that same little boy you met over ten years ago and that same dejected look on his face after being let down one too many times. It breaks your heart. 
“If Satoru took the mission and went alone, I’m sure it’s for a good reason.”
He wants to say more but opts for something quick and sweet. “Yeah. Maybe.”
You have to do something. Quick. Anything to make him a bit happier. “I have a mission later in Osaka. I’ll be catching the 2 pm train. Wanna come? I could use the extra help.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, you presume, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have anything else to do.” 
“Great! And just so you know, we’ll probably be dealing with a grade one or two.” 
He pauses momentarily before calmly asking, “And you need help with that?”
“Uh, yeah. Any help is much appreciated. Plus, I haven’t seen you much recently.” You smile brightly, and he turns his head, eyes finding the ground, looking a little bashful. 
“About that…” 
“Don’t worry about it,” you wave him off. “You’ve been busy with school, and I know that.”
“But that’s not–”
“It’s okay, Megumi,” you smile again, resisting the urge to reach across the table and gently squeeze his hand. “I get it.”
He gives you a look, a small disgruntled scowl. He wanted to say more.
“Alrighty then.” You stand, stretching from sitting in the chair. “I’ll buy you another hot chocolate for the road. We should probably start getting ready to leave.”
-
The mission goes well. An abandoned warehouse in Osaka conjured up a nasty looking grade three, but Megumi held his own just fine—like you expected. He’s grown much stronger and more sure of himself. You’re proud. Seeing how far he’s come certainly puts a smile on your face. He’s not a little boy anymore, you realized. He’s growing into a fine young man. 
Urg. Stop getting emotional. 
However, after stopping for a later dinner, you both arrived home late, around nine or so. 
“You did good tonight, Megumi,” you tell him for the nth time. 
He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ve told me that already.”
“I know, I know. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you. You’re getting so much stronger.”
Instead of brushing you off like all the other times, he sighs before offering a forced “thanks.” 
“Alrighty then. Try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you and the others sometime tomorrow, yeah?”
“Sounds good. Get back home safe.”
You nod, smiling. You make sure to watch him as he goes, making sure he gets inside before turning around. He’s capable of taking care of himself, but some habits never grow old. Making sure he gets inside anywhere safely has always been something you’ve prioritized, whether he was going to a friend's house, school, or boarding the train. 
You loved him like your own, but you knew he wasn't. After all, it was only a few months ago now that he reminded you that he wasn't yours.
You’re not my mom. 
It hurt—it still does—but you never held it against him. You still loved him nevertheless. Your relationship might have shifted but it doesn’t negate the fact that you care for him and would gladly give your life if it meant keeping him safe. 
Then, there was Kugisaki and Itadori—two others slowly weaseling their way into your heart. They’ve helped Megumi so much; he might be too proud to admit it, but they’ve helped him come out of his shell; they were his friends, and you knew they had each other backs. 
You sigh, a translucent cloud of white floating up and above your head. Just like always, your thoughts shift to blue eyes. Satoru. You’ve missed him today. No calls or obnoxious spam texts. It’s not unusual per se, especially when he gets busy. Regardless, you missed him.
But, something is bothering you. He wasn't communicating with you and he usually tells you these things. Even if he didn't have the time to tell you something right away, he'd eventually find a moment to talk to you. This time around, he didn’t. He didn't tell you he was leaving or about the whole ordeal with Megumi.
He just got up and left. You woke to a cold bed and an empty house. No text message, no note with a silly doodle. When you called him in the morning, it went right to voicemail. Eventually, when you pull up your shared text messages to check for anything new, you only saw the message you sent him from the day before. At a loss, you type out a quick message. You didn't think it would make things better, but at least it was something.
I hope you have a good day today :) 
It was all you could really muster up after last night. He seemed so agitated, and so fed up. You blamed it on stress; he isn’t usually like that. Usually, his touch was careful, calculated as if you were fixed of glass. You missed his lame jokes and mischievous grins when he was up to no good. You weren't offered any of that last night. Or the night before. Even the night before that. 
You’re starting to worry. 
He always bounces back so quickly. The only thing that typically gets him this mad are the higher-ups. Which, in Megumi's case, makes sense. You can see why Gojo would intervene if they gave him a dangerous mission. 
But why didn’t he take Megumi with him, at least?
Hm.. maybe it was beyond Megumi's skill set. Would the elders be stupid enough to set him up? They did it to you long ago, but they wouldn’t be bold enough to do it to the boy with the ten shadows technique, would they?
Or maybe Satoru… just doesn’t want to be near you?
Urg. You roll your eyes at your own selfish thoughts. Satoru wouldn’t do something like that. He’s already overworked as it is. Maybe you should make him something. A nice dinner? Or maybe he needed a pick-me-up? Kikufuku? You’re sure you could find the recipe online. 
You're torn, so you decide to make both. Maybe you'll even put on a nice dress. 
You decide to call him, and after a few rings, he answers. “Hey, honey,” you say sweetly, happy he even bothered to answer your call. "I was wondering when you’d be home tonight. I want to make you a nice dinner.”
He’s quiet again—too quiet. “Dinner? Tonight?” 
“Yeah, you’ve been so busy lately. I figured you’d like that.” 
He hums into the phone, sounding a bit lighter. “Dinner does sound nice…” 
Your smile widens. You could hear the underlying stress in his tone; it was flatter than usual, but at least he was trying. “... I’ll even put on your favorite dress?” 
He chuckles a bit. “Tempting, but I’ll probably have to leave after dinner.”
“Oh,” you murmur, wincing slightly at the rejection. Maybe you’ve gotten too spoiled—too accustomed to him pushing off his responsibilities all for the sake of spending a few more moments with you. Were you being too greedy?  “Are you okay? They’re not stretching you too thin, are they?”
He sighs in a carefree tone. “I'm doing fine. Same old thing, just a different day,” is all he offers, but you can tell he’s withholding. 
“I can help, y’know,” you offer gently. “If you have too many missions, I can take a few off your plate.”
“Nah,” he tells you a bit arrogantly. “It’s better if I handle it.”
Now you’re really starting to feel the distance. He usually reserves the softer parts of him for you. You suppose he just didn’t have the patience to do so right now. “You, uh, got into it with the higher-ups I heard,” you mention, trying to keep the conversation going but approaching from a different angle. “Megumi was telling me you even took his mission. I think he was a bit upset you didn’t take him with you. How come you never told me?”
“How come you never told me you were going to Osaka? Or the fact that you took him with you?”
Your stomach twists, unease bubbling in your chest. You didn’t like where this was heading. “I– it’s never bothered you before,” you manage, though your voice falters, dying down into nothing but a whisper. “And it’s not like you’ve been… wanting to speak to me recently. I haven't had the time to tell you much of anything," your trail off, your voice slowly fading before you begin again. "Did I do something to make you mad?”
The silence that follows is unbearable—longer than you ever imagined it could be. “Satoru… Please just talk to me.”
“I gotta go,” his tone is cold, clipped, and final. 
There’s a click as he hangs up, and the silence becomes deafening and threateningly absolute.
-
You realize you miss the way he used to look at you. Not the way he'd gaze at you, but in the way he would gaze into you, as though you were ever the only thing that ever really mattered.
After your last conversation with him, you were unsteady. You hated how you stayed in bed for hours, analyzing everything he's said to you recently, dissecting his every action. You hated how needy you suddenly felt, even while laying there, in his bed, in his clothes. He paused just a second too long before answering you now, as if he had to must up the courage and energy to do so. His laugh no longer came out easily. Others might miss it, but you never could. It was still rambunctious, taking up a whole room, but to you, it felt forced, brittle even. You've known Satoru at his best, and you've also known him at his worst.
When he looks at you now, you wonder if he's really seeing you. Painfully, you realize you haven't seen him; not without his eyeband on at least. Last night you did, for the first time in a while, but he seemed agitated.
The worst part was that you didn't know how to bring yourself to confront him. You struggled, unsure which pretty words and cadence would unluck the distance between you two.
Did something happen on one of his missions? Was he stressed? Had the higher-ups pushed him too far, testing his patience?
Or was it you? Was this somehow your fault?
Did you scare him away? Have you said too much, cared too deeply, loved too loudly?
You weren't sure, but you had to try something.
You were grateful you were cooking him dinner tonight on your day off. It was the least you could do, and you adored taking care of him. You choose hot pot, something you and Satoru have tried at home before. It took over a few hours to prepare, but it was worth it. You made two broths, you sliced up shabu-shabu and wagyu beef and even went to the extent of watching a video to make a dipping sauce. Unfortunately, you forgot one of the ingredients for the kikufuku mochi and didn’t want to risk making something he didn’t entirely like. Luckily, you had spare time to run down to the kikufuku store right before it closed. Of course, you grabbed all his favorite, two boxfuls, in fact. He was a big guy, so you hoped you had more than enough food for him to indulge.
You and Satoru were together. Though he never outright asked you to be his, you knew. It was an unspoken thing, and you were content with that. For as goofy and eccentric as that man could be, it was rather surprising how he was never outright with what he was actually feeling. 
He was damn good at showing it, though. In more ways than one. 
You feel it in the way he’d always reach for you after a nightmare. Shaking, needy hands tightly clasping at your waste, fearful of you disappearing and slipping to a place where he could not reach you. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow. Please. His face would nuzzle into your neck, sharply inhaling your scent. You’d hold him, whispering endless promises. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Or it's okay. Breathe, my love. I’m with you. 
You feel it on the nights he’d pin you beneath him, his grunts and moans echoing in your ears as he fills you so completely. He’d beg, no demand you—tell me you’re mine. Only mine. 
And, of course, you’d eagerly nod, overwhelmed with the pleasure only he could strum out of you so perfectly. ‘m yours. All of me—yours. 
You feel it in his protective gaze, his eagerness to hold you in the life vest of his arms. You felt it late into the night, damp bodies pressed against one another; low lighting, quiet laughter, and secrets revealed. His dreams, his wishes, his what ifs—the parts of him that no one knew or considered. Or when he handed you a silver key with a handsome and cheshire grin. What do you say? He was lovely, every bit of him, especially his gentle and selfless heart that you would never take for granted like the rest of the world seemed to. 
You feel it when he comes home from overseas and how his strong arms hold onto you just a bit longer, a bit tighter. You feel it with how he smiles into your neck or that one time at the airport when he lifted you up and spun you around, uncaring who saw. 
You feel it in the way that it was unspoken. You feel it in his cursed energy and how it perfectly intertwined with yours, reaching for you, comforting you when his hands could not. You especially feel it in the necklace he gifted you—the one your fingers were playing with now: a silver chain with cerulean sapphires, the same breathtaking shade of his eyes. His cursed energy, carefully imbued into the stones, was like carrying a piece of him with you—always, wherever you may go, and it rests directly above your beating heart. 
He might not voice it, but you feel it. He loved you. And you certainly loved him. 
So when had it become so hard to reach him? Why does he seem so intangible all of a sudden? Something deep and unsettling blooms in your stomach. 
And now that you think about it…
When was the last time you two did any of that? When was the last time his careful hands caressed you?
Only Satoru could make you this worried or make you feel this displaced. A sense of panic strikes you, and you pull out your phone to text him when you realize he’s thirty minutes late. Usually, that wouldn’t bother you, but–
After only three rings, you're sent to voicemail. When you check his location, he’s at the high school. Should you check on him? Or would that make him… mad?
He toru! Dinners ready. When do you think you’ll be home? Miss you. 
You bite your lip. He quickly read your message, but those three little bubbles never show up. 
Nothing. Just nothing. 
Maybe he’s staying up late writing the report for his latest mission? 
“eek!” Your phone pings, and after a round of hot potato, you see he’s texted you back. 
Only to be met with more disappointment. 
Dealing with something urgent. Don’t wait up. 
You frown, knowing you should drop it, but you can’t. 
Satoru…
He’s typing faster now. What?
You pause, thumbs hovering over letters you hesitate to type. What’s going on? You’ve been off lately. 
I’m fine. Just busy. 
Do you want me to bring you dinner to the High School?
Those three bubbles appear and disappear more times than you can count. No. I said don’t wait up. 
You know I don't sleep well without you.
He responds in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t be the first time. 
Your patience is wearing thin for the first time since this ordeal started. Are you saying you won’t be coming home tonight? 
You’re offered no response. He doesn’t even open your message. For the second night, you lay in a cold bed. Except, Satoru doesn’t come home. 
Only he could fracture you so completely. 
-
During your next mission, you brought the whole trio along. According to the report you were handed, you were only dealing with a grade three, but there was also an Infestation in the area. You could use the backup.
You had initially asked Megumi, but once Yuji caught wind, he was adamant that he tagged along, and, according to Nobara she had nothing else better to do. 
“Are you guys sure? It’s your day off.”
Yuji shrugs, both arms up, hands up and behind his head. “Yeah, I’m game.”
“Me too,” Nobara voices with a small glint in her eyes. “I got something new I want to try out anyway. We didn’t get to go on a mission last week as it is.”
You paused. "Huh? Gojo didn’t take you on any?”
“Nah,” Yuji shakes his head. “I think he’s been busy or something.” He looks at Kugisaki. “Hasn’t Gojo-Sensei seemed a little… off?”
Nobara nods. “Uh yeah. He hasn’t been himself at all. We figured you’d know something,” Nobara says, curious eyes scanning you. 
“Huh… I’m not sure. We haven’t gotten around to talking lately.”
Megumi hums, though it sounds more suspicious than his usual passive tone. 
Though they weren’t necessarily your students, you figured there was no harm in taking them. You've done it before and having them around was always like a breath of fresh air—reminding you of why Satoru dedicates himself so fully to his cause and being a teacher. They give you a reason to get stronger and keep fighting. You loved these kids and all their bickering. 
Except, this mission doesn’t go anything like you had expected. The report was wrong—a grade two was ambling through the abandoned schoolhouse. That was fine; the four of you were more than enough to kill it. The infestation was a bit overwhelming, but you had their backs, and they were nothing but pesky small curses lower than a grade four. 
Everything went well when the ambush happens. You all saw it: right in front of your eyes, a grade one emerging from the shadows, born into something nasty. It's skin oozed a sickly black slime that clung to its misshapen body. Its face—or lack there of—was dark and amorphous, split by a jagged maw that stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp serrated teeth, ready to cut and slash through flesh like a meat grinder. Other that is daunting appearance, the only other notable thing about it was its speed.
You told the kids to back down, but it was already too late. They were already involved, stuck in the heat of battle and fighting as a seamless unite. They were more than capable of standing on their own. 
But you needed them out of here. Your obligation was to protect them no matter how eager they were to help. However, before you could think of your next move, the curse made one last self-preserving attack. It opened in wide jaws, releasing several red beamed energy blast aimed directly at stone pillars. 
You had no time to think, only react. In an instant, you surged forward towards the trio, faster than their eyes could react. Grunting, you knocked them back, glass shattering as you kicked them through a window. You felt the impact ripple through your body, fully knowing you knocked the wind out of Megumi and Yuji. However, they recovered quickly, their instincts sharp enough to catch Nobara–
Right in time before the building collapsed. 
The building groaned like a wounded beast, its entire frame buckling from lack of support. Stone walls crumbled into clouds of dust and debris, windows shattered in explosive bursts, steel beams twisted and snaped with sickening shrieks. The ground trembled violently as the structure gave way, collapsing into a chaotic heap of concrete, rubble, and smoke, swallowing everything beneath. Including you.
You survived. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy made you strong enough to withstand the impact, and your heavenly restriction certainly helped. Nevertheless, you still took on quite a bit of damage from the tons of metal and concrete.
You woke up under the rubble with a startling gasp, choking on the dust. Were you out for a few seconds? Minutes? You were unsure, but the only thing pushing you to stand was the panic coated in Megumi’s voice. He was calling for you, and so were the others. You could hear the strain in their voices, the utter distraught. You healed your broken leg and the gash on the corner of your forehead, ceasing your gushing blood. You gathered yourself and your strength before pushing. They found you quickly after that, noticing a heap of rubble moving. They ran, rushing to help you push back concrete that threatened to suffocate you. You never did like tight spaces. 
Thankfully, you were alright. The kids were safe as well.
However, the curse had escaped. Megumi was visibly shaken, his fingernail cracked, bruised, and bleeding from digging urgently through the rubble to find you. 
Everyone was on edge. It wasn't their fault you didn't react quickly enough. You were more than capable; maybe that's why the failure stung so much.
You let yourself down. You let them down.
You were spiraling into a dark place quickly. The guilt threatened to swallow you whole. Gojo was still nowhere to be seen. You didn't have the strength to call him. You’re not sure what you could even say. You’ve fucked up before, but never to this extent. Not to where a whole building collapsed. 
“Good morning. A tragic incident occurred last night when an abandoned school collapsed around 7 pm. Authorities are currently investigating the cause, and preliminary reports suggest that the collapse could have been due to a structural weakness—one of the many reasons why the school was abandoned in the first place. We will continue to monitor the situation as more information becomes available–"
Megumi gently grabs your phone and locks your screen. Wordlessly, he shakes his head before pocketing your device. You’re too exhausted to ask for it back. 
“Are you sure you’re okay, Sensei?” Yuji's voice was soft, the first voice to break the ice. You look up from your hands, unsure how long you’ve been lost in thought. You force a small smile as you gaze at the three kids. You were sitting across from them in the waiting area outside the council room. 
“I’m alright. Are you guys?"
“We’re all fine,” Megumi cuts in quickly. “We’re– we’re more than okay.”
“That's good,” you trail off. “That's really good.”
Uncertainty hung dangerously in the air. What happened now? You were okay, but for how long? 
You knew you were in for a lashing with all the collateral damage you caused. It was supposed to be a simple mission. This wasn't supposed to happen. You four were fine, but did anyone else get hurt? 
You flinch at your own thought. You don't think you could live with yourself if innocent lives were lost.
“Sensei?” Yuji's soft, unsure voice cuts in once more. When your eyes make contact, he smiles brightly. You can tell it’s forced. “After this, wanna go get something to eat? There’s this great sandwich shop down the street!”
“Y–yeah!” Nobara sits up straight after being less than conspicuously nudged by Yuji. “It’s pretty good. We went the other day–”
The council room door creaked open. The higher-ups were waiting, shrouded in shadows and faces hidden. Even if you couldn't see them, the tension was palpable. Even without seeing them directly, you could sense their anger, smell it as it rolled off of them in a quiet, unspoken fury. You glance at the kids once more, this time with a gentle, reassuring smile curling at your lips. 
Everything would be okay.  
-
Everything was, in fact, not okay. 
The air was heavy as you entered your office. Your limbs ached, your head throbbed, and every breath felt like dragging glass through your lungs. You had thought the worst of it was over, and slowly, you felt your body begin to shut down, but only when there were no prying eyes to see how you compensated for your injuries. Even after using RCT, you had a limp—your bones were mended but not quite right. Your head was no longer bleeding—but still, you weren't quite right. 
You dismiss it as exhaustion; after all, you had just learned RCT not too long ago. Maybe you missed something. However, this wasn’t anything you couldn't handle on your own. You could see Shoko, but why bother her? You’ve endured far worse. Dealing with a sore body and a headache for the next few days wasn’t out of your jurisdiction. 
When you open the door, a flickering lamplight reveals a tall frame standing by your desk. Even before your eyes dance upon his sharp and still silhouette, the air shifts—your soul already knows he is there. Satoru.
But, his eyes never meet yours; you weren’t blessed enough to see them, a bright blue illuminating in the absence of light. His eyes were covered with a familiar dark cloth. However, you didn’t need to see them to know that the usual warmth they held as he gazed upon you was gone. In its place was a coldness that turned your stomach.
“Satoru–”
“I know,” he says, voice clipped as he turns to face you. “I read the reports.” Your heart sinks as he haphazardly tosses the report down to your desk. 
You’re exhausted, unsure of where to even begin. So many questions floated in your weary mind. Where were you? When did you get here? Please, don’t be mad at me. 
It’s funny how all your dignity, poise, and strength to endure are gone with him. You already took one berating from the elders, and you’re not sure you could handle another. 
Not from him. 
“But, I want to hear it from you.” He stepped closer, his height making him all the more domineering. “What happened out there? And how the hell are my students caught up in all of this?”
“The report was wrong. It was a grade two, not three, but we handled that just fine. We cleared out the area and completed the mission, but we were ambushed. A grade one appeared, destroyed the pillars, and–” You hesitate, unable to form the words. “Well, you know what happened.” He’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. “I–I did everything I could, Satoru. The students were fine, but the curse got away.”
“Everything you could?" His voice echoes. "I don’t need excuses. Certainly not from you. You endangered them—all of them. They’re not even your students!” He snapped, his voice rising in a way you’ve never heard before.
You bite back the lump forming in your throat. “I thought you, out of anyone, would understand the circumstances.”
“...Understand?” He utters back, a quiet fury rolling off him in waves. 
 “I made sure that–”
“You failed,” he snaps, voice laced with malice. “Enough. Just stop it. You were reckless and went behind my back, and you let a pathetic grade one get the best of you.”
Your chest tightened, crumbling at the weight of his tone. “Went behind your back? I did no such thing.”
“They could have been hurt because of you!” You visibly flinch, his words carrying more weight than the debris that had buried you—broken bones and all. 
“I’m recommending you be demoted to grade two.” 
What?
“You can’t do that. Satoru, you can’t–”
“I can,” he said coldly. “and I will. You failed, and not only did you fail, you went behind my back and involved my students. Your recklessness caused this,” disdain coats his voice, and he sucks his teeth. “I was gone for two fucking seconds, and you damn near ruined everything. People could have died. My students could have been injured. So stop being a nuisance and just do as you're told from here on out.”
No. 
No, no, no, no. 
You fought for years to get to grade one. A woman with a name of no renown—this society was never in favor of you; the system was set up for you only to fail time and time again. For years, you were held at grade three, then grade two, all because of your name’s sake—all because you were a woman. You didn’t have the luxury of being as good as other sorcerers; you had the burden to be better. 
Even now, at grade one, they continue to undermine you and undervalue you. You knew you didn’t have room to make mistakes, for they would tarnish every bit of good you have done. You thought Satoru understood that. You thought he viewed you as an equal, someone strong enough to stand by him. You thought he valued you, respected you. 
You never thought a mistake, a stupid mistake, would lead to this. 
It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. 
“This has nothing to do with my rank. You don’t believe me. You don't trust me. After everything–”
Hearing his scornful laugh, your vision begins to blur. “Don’t make this personal. You fucked up, and now I have to clean up your mess.”
Your ears begin ringing. The pounding in your head becomes too much and threatens to crack your skull open once more.
“But it is, isn’t it?” You whisper. How could it not be personal with how he's been treating you for days? “You haven't been able to look at me in weeks. You speak to me as if I’ve become nothing but a burden to you—a nuisance. What did I do to deserve this?”
He remains silent, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth. Point proven.
Your heart painfully twists with each beat. “Do you even… care about me anymore?” You’re not sure why you say it, why the words slip past your lips, but they do.
He read the report and he hadn't even asked if you were okay. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but it makes your chest ache. You just wanted to go home, crawl in bed and hold him. However, you knew that wasn't in the cards right now.
“Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”
Your voice finally wavers before him, cracking as you press on, desperate for him to understand—desperate to have him by your side as he has been for so many years.
“You’re casting me aside like I’m... worthless."
It was cruelty, a quiet and deafening insult for him to demote you of your status—but more specifically, your place beside him. That hurt runs deep, to the point that feelings of betrayal start seeping into your veins, poisoning you, antagonizing you. Belittling you. It was a sharp dagger you never expected—searing with a hatred that threatened to cripple you. This wasn’t just about your position. He was a man of unchallenged stature, of the highest status and regard, lowering you, demeaning you with his every word, every action. 
When did things go so wrong?
Yet, even now, you question yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you taking this too personally? Were you being selfish?
Because he was right. Every word he's said so far was right. You failed. You put them in danger.
You stand there, a hollow feeling growing in your chest. The sting of Satoru’s words cut deeper than any blade you’ve faced. His jaw tightened, his gaze hard as steel and cold as ice. “You gave me what I never asked for.”
“Don't you dare!” You snap, finger trembling as you point his way with an accusatory jab. “Don’t you dare pretend this is nothing.  You know me better than anyone. How could I not take this personally? I’ve done nothing but stand by you, love you, trust you–”
“Like I said, I never asked for any of that,” he utters sharply, his carefully composed exterior shattering. “Whatever we were was nothing more than fucking convenience.” 
Suddenly, he stops, freezing at the onslaught of his own lethal words. His next words seemed to die in his throat. The damage was done. 
Exhausted, defeated, numb. His words hit you like a death blow. “... Convenience?” Echoing the very word that came from his lips—a sound you hardly recognize comes from your mouth, a small slip of the anguish tormenting and swelling in your body escapes. 
The necklace around your neck, the very one he had given you, seemed to pulse against your skin, warm and alive. It carried a piece of him, a piece of you, a guiding hand in the absence of light: a thread, an anchor—a way home. 
Suddenly, you hated it. Hated the way it sat so close to your heart, hated the warmth, his energy; you hated that, even now, his words cutting so deep, unraveling the fabric of your being, it comforted you, reaching for you. 
You yanked it off, the chain snapping in two as you held it in your trembling hands. 
He falters, his whole being frozen. “What are you doing?” he asked, quiet and tense, blanketed in uncertainty. 
“I don’t want it,��� you say, voice quivering, threatening to fail you at any moment. His energy—the only energy that blended so perfectly with yours—reached for you, and so did his trembling hands. Reflexively, you flinched away, retreating further into the room and further from him. “Don’t,” you shake your head. “Don’t touch me. Not with your hands, not with your energy. Don’t.”
Silent tears stream down your face. You are unable to look at him, and your breathing is shallow and unsteady. You open your hand, letting the necklace drop to the floor. The faint sound of metal hitting wood echoes in the suffocating silence of the room. 
There’s a soft knock on the door. It creaks, slightly opening. “... Y/n sensei?” came an unsure voice.
You stiffen, and suddenly, you can sense them, three nervous students standing outside your door. Too caught up with Satoru, you had entirely missed them. You clear your throat and dry your cheeks with the back of your hand before turning to the door. You walk over, opening the door wide enough to see them. 
“Sorry if we’re interrupting, but we just wanted to know if you still wanted to come out for dinner with us...” 
Fuck. How much did they hear?
You take a breath, and it’s shakier than you anticipated. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. Let me grab my jacket, okay.”
Yuji only offers an unsure smile. Norbora has a hard time even looking at you, while Megumis's eyes are solid and unyielding, glaring right past you. His hands were in his pockets, balled into tight fists.
You don’t know what to do other than quickly turning. Within a few ushered strides, you were at your desk, grabbing your coat off your desk chair; you’re careful to avoid Gojo, who manages to plaster on that big fucking grin. 
“Heard you guys were up to no good while I was away.”
“We were fine,” Megumi interjects before Yuji could open his mouth. “More than fine.” 
“Y–yeah, everything ended up being just fine. Y/n-sensei made sure of that,” Nobara awkwardly adds, shifting her weight on her feet. 
“Ah,” Gojo nods. “Well, make sure you get some rest tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow! You guys will be training with the second years!” 
You hated how he could act as if everything was alright while you were fighting back tears. It was another jab, a suckerpunch to the gut. 
You just needed to get out of there. 
-
After dinner with the kids, you headed out on your own the following day. You went home, stuffing some clothes in a bag before spending the night at a cheap motel. Before getting with Satoru, you always floated from place to place, never truly settling. Those days, all you carried on you was your backpack. You didn’t have a home or many possessions you could call your own. You just had yourself.  
I guess old habits die hard. 
Megumi was the first to text you: I went to Gojo's house today and didn’t see you. 
All good! I’ve been busy running errands.
Nobara text you sometime after.
Hey Sensei!! Let me know if you’re available today! Let’s go shopping!
You responded rather quickly. Sorry, I’m not around today. Maybe ask Maki? Or maybe Yuji and Megumi would like to tag along.
But guys suck :(
Then, there was Yuji: Hey, Sensei! Let me know if you want ramen! The gang and I got you since you covered for us the other night! I even got coupons! 
You weren’t sure what to say. You always covered for their meals (no exceptions), but you knew they were just trying to be kind. You double-tapped and hearted the message. 
You appreciated them more than anything, but frankly, it was a bit embarrassing. You never meant for them to overhear you and Satrou that night in your office, and you were never one for pity. If it were anyone else, you would have called them out and told them off. However, you wouldn’t dream of doing that to the kids. They were trying to support you in the only way they knew how, but it wasn’t their responsibility to worry about you. 
Surprisingly, Shoko was the next person to contact you. You never stopped by my office. I’m assuming you’re alright?  
Smiling gently, you responded. Yeah, no injuries to report. 
A building collapsed on you.
You scoff, imagining her deadpan expression. Heavenly restriction, remember?
That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. 
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Yeesh. Just meet me at the bar you like downtown. 
That’s where you are now, Shoko’s favorite bar, tossing back your third shot. ”Take it easy. I don’t feel like dragging you home tonight.”
“Ah. I’m alright, Shoko.”
“You don’t look it.” 
“Neither do you with those bags under your eyes.”
She brings her drink to her lips, mumbling “touché” before taking a swig. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Vivid memories pressed to the front of your mind of the building collapsing. “Satoru is demoting me. After the elders ripped into me, I found him waiting for me in my office.”
“He– what? Jeez,” she took another sip of sake. “Out of everything, I didn’t expect that.” 
“I– we haven’t been doing too good. I’m not sure if there even is an us after last night.”
“Huh. He did seem a little out of it today.”
“Somehow, I kinda doubt that.” There’s a beat of silence, and you swirl the liquid in your cup. 
“If it means anything, he asked me about you. Asked if you were alright.” 
You smile a bit sardonically.  If Satoru really wanted to find you, you knew he could, as he had the means to do so. From here, you were only about five miles away from his estate. It’s not like you were too for his eyes to see.  Suddenly, that thought bothers you, and you find yourself almost subconsciously concealing your cursed energy.  
“Is that why you texted me?”
She gives you a weird look. “Partially. I had my own concerns.” 
“Like what?”
“If I’m being honest with you, you’re not great at RCT. I wanted to check and make sure everything was alright. It eventually catches up with you if you don’t do it correctly. I’ve seen it cause irreparable damage before.”  
“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”
“You should come to my office tomorrow so I can check–”
“I think I’m gonna quit.”
“…what?”
“I mean, that’s what they really want, right?”
“If you do that, they’ll find the easiest excuse to label you as a traitor. A cursed user.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Since day one, they’ve been trying to paint me as a villain.” 
“So don’t give them what they want,” Shoko bites back. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Listen, I can’t stop you. You are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day, but you don’t need to do this. You made a mistake.”
“I’m just tired,” you tell her truthfully. “For months, I’ve been pretending, going through the motions. I've been miserable. Megumi hasn’t wanted me around much. He’s older now, and he doesn’t need me anymore–”
“Of course he does,” Shoko cuts you off. “He’s still a kid.”
“And I’m not his mother,” you retort bitterly. “Then, there’s Satoru. He’s been so distant.  He used to always be in my corner and make everything better, but I don’t even have that now. Now, all of the jujutsu society thinks I’m a liability. He thinks I’m a liability. Maybe it’s why he’s grown to resent me so much.”
“Please. Just stop talking,” Shoko remarks, overwhelmed with how quickly you were talking. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of conversations like these, but at least she listened. “I’m here if you ever need anyone. And please, don’t let this fester. I would rather not lose another friend.” She takes a large gulp this time, finishing her drink before gesturing for a refill. “Tsk. Satoru is complicated—I get it—but he wouldn’t want you to leave. Neither would Megumi. That kid loves you. Maybe you and Gojo just need a break.”
A break? Ha. That was one way of putting it. However, it already felt much more like a breakup, and its permanence frightened you. Like many other things in your relationship, it was never voiced but certainly felt. 
“Yeah,” you say softly, body buzzing as you down your fourth shot. “Maybe you’re right.”
-
You start walking home after having drinks with Shoko. It was a long walk, and you took your time. You weren’t in a rush to head home to potential chaos. The thought of staying at a hotel crossed your mind, but you had nothing to change into. Frankly, it didn’t matter where you went either. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep any better. 
Though, it’s not like you were going back home to anything good. You were suspended without pay; you couldn’t go near the school grounds or exercise any curses—a stipulation you rolled your eyes at. If they thought just a few measly words would stop you from exercising a curse, they would be more idiotic than you thought. 
Still, maybe it’s good to take some time off. Maybe you should stay at the hotel. If you were lucky, they’d have a washer and dryer. 
Then, your phone starts to ring—a unique ringtone that a white-haired idiot assigned to his contact one day after you let him “borrow” your phone. He even changed his contact photo; years later, you never had the heart to change it. 
Your heart aches when you see the contact photo of him, his goofy smile and gorgeous eyes peeking over his black shades. You answered hesitantly after a few rings. 
“Hello?”
“Heyyy,” you hear, his voice light and cheery yet, lacking its usual spark. “Where are you? I know I missed dinner the other night so I picked up your favorite on my way home!” 
Back to normal? Just like that?
You take a breath, reeling in your emotions. It wasn’t normal, per se, but you could tell he was trying, stepping cautiously over the ice he knew could shatter at any moment. 
“I’m not home, right now.”
“Huuuh?” You can hear the slight whine in his voice, and you can imagine him pouting like a small child. You expect him to carry on with his theatrics, but he hesitates. “When do you think you’ll be home then?”
“Uh, I don’t really know,” you trail off, unable to keep up his faux mirth and bravado. 
 “Well, if you don’t want to sleep next to me tonight, I can just take the guest bedroom!” For a moment, he sounds hopeful.
Honestly, he’s just making your head spin. 
“Honestly, I think it’s best if I stay out of the house for a little while, Gojo.”
There’s a beat of silence before you hear his nervous laughter. “Gojo?” he remarks dejectedly. “Can’t remember the last time you called me that.”
You were unsure what to say; you hadn’t even realized you initially referred to him by his last name until he pointed it out. You want to tell him sorry—for everything, but your tongue tenses in your mouth, and your throat threatens to close up. You hated it when he got like this, and typically, you’d do anything to make him smile again. 
But you’re hurt, and he caused that hurt. 
“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he adds quickly, unable to withstand your silence. 
“What’s there to talk about?” You ask softly. “What done is done. I messed up.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It can’t be undone now. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Your stomach drops your heart twists and aches. Was he going to officially end things with you? A bitter, more cruel half of you whispers—you weren’t even officially together to begin with. However, none of that even matters; he has too much of you, too many pieces of your frail heart in the palm of his hands. You were irrevocably his, but was he ever yours? 
Just a few weeks ago, you thought you would have an entirely different answer than the one you have now. You're too afraid to face him or the truth. You were guilt-ridden, your pride and dignity torn to shreds. Hearing that he no longer wishes to be with you would be too much. 
Honestly? 
You’re not sure how you’d react. If you’d sob, if you’d remain stoic, or if you’d flip a table and trash every one of your possessions. You’re at wit's end, and the level of fallout threatening to break free from you was immeasurable. 
So, you finalize what you had been contemplating just five minutes ago. “I think I’m going to stay at a hotel, Gojo. I need space. Time to think.” 
“I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other,” he says lowly, his voice reverberating through the phone. You shiver. “It doesn’t feel right.”
You hated this. You fucking hated this. 
Your chest tightens, and your knees weaken. You wanted to give in. He always had that power over you. He ruled your heart so effortlessly. You yearned for him, your heart singing a million love songs, beckoning him back to you. 
But you couldn’t. You were too mad. You felt cast aside as if you were nothing but an afterthought—after all these years. Yet again, you feel the foundation of your home cracking, and your knees go weak yet again. You take a shuddering breath right before repeating the exact words he threw at you just a few nights prior—words that so effortlessly dismantled your spirit. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
-   
You’ve always had a habit of running. It was easier for you than most. You figured you’d go back to that cheap motel in Tokyo, but you were too restless. Too angry. Feelings of betrayal ran deep, and the guilt nipped away at you until there was only a void. 
Before you could leave, though, you call a number you knew by heart. Stepping onto the train and holding your phone to your ear, it rings. For a moment, you assume he’s asleep. It was getting late, but after the fifth ring, the line clicked. A groggy voice peaks through. 
“Sensei? What’s going on?”
“Megumi,” you breathe out. “Hi. Sorry to wake you.”
“It’s fine.”
“Nozomi 1, departing from Tokyo and heading to Kyoto, will depart shortly. Please be careful of your footing while boarding. Please refrain from using mobile phone inside the train–“
“You’re leaving?” The tiredness in his voice is replaced by something else you can’t quite place. 
“Only for a short while. It’s not like I’ll be working anytime soon,” you chuckled nervously. “But I just wanted to let you know. It didn’t feel right leaving without speaking to you first.” 
“Oh,” is all he can muster up at first. “I– when will you be back?”
“I’m not sure,” you answer him honestly. “A few days, maybe.” 
“Well… Can we visit you? I’d go alone, but I think Yuji and Nobara would kill me if I did.” 
Oh. You hadn’t expected that. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Um, yeah. When I figure out where I’m staying, I’ll let you know.”
He sounds worried. “You don’t know where you’re staying yet?”
You snicker. “Ha, this is, uh, kinda an impromptu thing.” 
“… and you’re sure alright?”
“Yes, yes, I’m alright. I just wanted to tell you.”
You can tell he’s not exactly satisfied, but he isn’t one to stop you. “Well, text me where you’ll be staying in a few hours. You should probably hang up now, though, and figure it out.”
You smile softly to yourself. He always was a kind boy—kinder than he’d ever reveal. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Megumi.”
“Night.. I’ll call you later. Be safe.”
When you hang up, you feel a bit better. 
The first night was hard—really hard. Sleeping away from Satoru was incredibly difficult, but so were his sharp words that relentlessly bounced around in your mind.  You found no peace by your window, watching the last of that day's sunlight slipping away behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the dead trees covered in snow.
You could almost feel his presence, like the cast of your shadow on a wall—following you, mirroring your every move. Your phone never rang with his ringtone, your phone never buzzed with a new text. Yet you stared at the shadows for a bit longer, a bit more intensely, waiting for two blue eyes to illuminate the space. They never did. 
Kyoto's stillness seemed to reflect your own, waiting for something to change, waiting for something dead and wilted to bloom once more. 
However, even all the way over in Kyoto, bad luck seems to follow you like the plague. You were walking to a small corner market to grab something to eat when you felt the disturbance in the air—tasted it on your tongue. You hoped that surge of cursed energy wasn’t what you thought it was. You would have loved to be proven wrong, but your instincts were keen like a hound trained to hunt. 
A curse womb opened right above a Kyoto High school. 
You were definitely getting fired after this. 
You knew a cursed object was most likely responsible for this. Considering it happened at a school, you were more than willing to bet a strong cursed object was placed there, most likely intended to ward off any other strong curses that might otherwise appear in the area. You assumed the seal broke, probably after hundreds of years of suppressing the power of the object. You’ve dealt with a case like that before.
You couldn’t have been more wrong. 
Three stupid students—ghost hunting of all things—removed the seal. The decorated white cloth tightly wrapped around a black skull was torn, and its viscous cursed energy soared, tinting the sky black. 
“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you hissed under your breath when you slammed open the classroom door. “This way, c’mon!” You didn’t have to tell them twice. Book it, and you stay by their side for as long as you can. You had to put up your veil, but only after they were far enough. 
You got impatient, however, especially towards the kid who had been recording everything up until now, where you crushed his phone in your hand. 
“Wha– hey! You're gonna pay for that!”
“What the hell is more important? Recording or your fucking lives? Shut up and run!” 
The air suddenly cracks with a tension that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s here. You could feel it—the dark, oppressive presence creeping across the courtyard, lurking. You yourself could see it with your eyes, but you felt it. 
Your senses were better than most. It was partially why you and Yuji got along and trained together so well. You were just like him when you were younger. Granted, he wasn’t born with cursed energy like you were, but your heavenly restrictions were nearly identical. 
You stop running when you reach the edge of the courtyard, but those three kids carry on in a scram. Holding the cursed object in your hands, you raise the skull in the air. It takes a considerable amount of force, but you crush the skull, black dust coating your hand. There’s a hollow screech, and you hope that’s the end of it. 
Of course, your bad luck persists. 
Typically, destroying the cursed object that’s created a cursed womb kills it or at least nullifies it. The exception is when the curse is an S-grade; those wombs are damn near impenetrable. 
Destroying the object seemed only to irritate the curse as it began crawling out of a bloody sac. 
You hold up your fist, index, and pointer finger together, pointing to the sky along with your thumb. A crimson veil pours down, covering the entirety of the school. However, you sense three others within your veil just as you seal off the area. 
“Yo, Y/n sensei!! What the hell are you doing here, loca!” A deep laugh echoes across the courtyard. 
Christ. You knew that voice from anywhere. 
You glance over your shoulder and see a few unexpected faces. Utahime and two other students—Miwa and Todo who looks way happier than he should be, considering the circumstances. 
The newly born curse loomed menacingly overhead, its red eyes gleaming like coals in a dying fire. It was tall, with protruding joints that snapped into place. Its black and sleek hair extended beyond its long, contorted body. Its face was painted white and cracked as if crafted of aged porcelain. Its kimono was white, stained with splashes of red and black goo. You stood firmly in place, fire crackling at your fingertips, your breath steady but sharp in the cold night air. Todo and Miwa joined your side quickly, and Utahime offered you a firm nod from the sidelines. She was entrusting you with her students.  
Quickly, the courtyard became a battlefield, filled with the crackle of burning energy and the hum of raw power. 
The curse lunged, zipping through the air. You were faster, your body twisting and moving with fluid grace. You raised your hand to strike, a jet of flame bursting forward, crackling against the air. The curse shrieked as the fire seared its back, black smoke rising from its melted skin. 
It recovered too quickly for your liking. It rolled through the flames like water through a sieve, reforming and lunging again, its claws gleaming.
Your senses were on fire—every shift in the air, every sound, every movement was magnified. You could hear the heartbeat of the curse, the faintest tremor of its form as it coiled to strike. You could smell the thick, sour scent of decay that clung to it like an ancient smog. And you could feel it—the deep, heavy weight of power pressing down on you, making your muscles tighten and strain against the oncoming attack.
The curse moved to strike again, but you were already there, rolling beneath it, body twisting in a perfect arc, and feet hitting the ground in a spring-loaded motion that sent you leaping upward. Your fist, wreathed in fire, crashed into the creature’s chest.
The explosion of heat sent the curse reeling, but it was only a momentary distraction. It retaliated, slashing the air with a massive, clawed hand. Three energized strikes were headed your way. You reacted with seconds to spare, but Miwa stood directly in the line of fire. You knew her simple domain wouldn’t be summoned fast enough, but she didn’t. It would be a miscalculation that ended her life. 
The claws tore through your side, then whipped down in a sickening arc, ripping clean through your arm. The pain came in an instant—a blinding, searing agony that burned through your body. You didn't even have time to scream.
You staggered back, a cry escaping Miwa’s lips as she looked at the bloody stump where your arm used to be. Blood poured and squirted from the wound, but there was no time for that. 
"Get back!" you shouted to the blue-haired girl, voice raw. She wasn’t nearly ready for this; Utahime gravity overestimated her abilities or underestimated the cursed strength. Regardless, the girl was too distraught to do anything at this moment. 
There’s a rush, and you suddenly realize you are outside the heat of battle. Todo went in, guns blazing, but you could only waste so much time. Todo was strong, way above his current ranking, in your opinion, but it was only a matter of time before that curse cut him down, too. 
Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused, drawing from the reserves settled deep within your core. Your energy surged, and tendrils of fire spiraled around the wound, filling the air with intense heat. 
“Sensei! Are you alri–" Miwa gasped, her feet coming to a haunt as she watched in awe and terror as your arm began to regenerate—pulsing with energy. The flesh knitted itself together, bone and sinew reforming in a frenzy. 
But the process wasn't easy and certainly didn’t come without a price to pay. Your body screamed, the regeneration draining your reserves. You were already weakened, and the battle had just begun. Tsk. 
Todo found his way back over to you two, panting heavily. “How are you doing over there, Sensei?”
"Clap," you say, voice strained. "Now." He looked at you, bug-eyed, but he nodded. He didn't hesitate. 
He brought his hands together in a sharp clap, and everything shifted. “Alright! Let’s dance!”
In an instant, you found yourself on the other side of the curse. You inhaled deeply, heart pounding, immediately launching yourself back into the fight.
The curse roared in confusion, disoriented, but it was too late. You were already in motion. Your feet hit the ground in a fluid motion, and with a vicious snap of your wrist, fire erupted once again. This time, it formed into a massive whip of flame that lashed through the air.
The curse hissed as the whip wrapped around its neck, and you pulled with your whole body. Never losing your grip, muscles straining, you move forward, wrapping the flames over your arm again and again, pulling tighter and tighter until you smelt the pungent odor of the burning flesh around its neck. You wrapped the whip around your arm one last time before turning your body and pulling the whip from over your shoulder, viscously yanking and slamming the curse to the ground and into submission. 
The curse struggled, its body writhing, but it was weakened. Miwa went for the opening, summoning her New Shadow Style: Simple domain. She’s gotten better since the tournament, and you acknowledge with a grave chuckle as she instantly draws her blade, slicing the curse directly across its chest cavity. She cost you an arm, but deep down, you knew she had the conviction to win and succeed. 
Todo doesn’t wait. Another clap. Another shift. You and Todo swapped places with the curse itself this time, and the curse had no time to react. He goes for a punch, cracking the curse with a quick jab, followed by a right hook. He claps again. The moment the curse materialized in front of you, disoriented, you surged forward, throwing everything you had left into one final strike.
It twisted in anguish, its body crumbling to the ground before its remains turned into ash.
Then, there was nothing.
The air grew still. The ground beneath you is scorched but calm. You sucked your teeth, silently berating yourself. 
You hated using your technique. Frankly, you opted not to unless you absolutely needed to, which was the main reason why people hardly knew about it. It wreaked havoc, leaving nothing but indomitable infernos that refused to be quenched like normal flames. They left nothing destruction in their wake—hungry to consume and spread. However, you’ve gotten better at controlling it—you’ll give yourself that. The only thing burned here today was the grass in the courtyard. 
You stood there for a moment, panting, your body trembling with exhaustion as you collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. “Y–you did it!” Miwa cheered. “I had no idea you knew RCT. Thank you for helping me back there.”
“What the– Miwa, we won! Show some conviction!” Todo cut in, flexing his biceps. 
“He’s right,” you managed a weak smile as you worked on catching your breath and easing your fast-beating heart. You collapse to the ground, still gaining your breath. "We did it."
You hear footsteps approaching from behind. Tilting your head, you see Utahime standing directly above you. 
“Oh. Hi ‘hime.” 
She smiles a bit, but her face remains hardened. You straighten up a bit, catching on to her attitude. Something wasn’t right. 
“You guys did a good job. However, another problem has arisen across the city.” 
“Huh? Another one?” Miwa asked, brows tugging inward. She shifts her weight from one hip to the other. “That's like the fifth one today...”
They continue on in their conversation as you drop your veil, sniff the air, and concentrate on your surroundings. A sense of foreboding strikes you under the dark ambiance of the sky. Even after killing that S-grade, things don’t feel right. 
“Thanks for joining us,” Utahime says, drawing back your attention. “I nearly had to call for backup.”
You scoff, glancing up at her from the ground. “Something doesn't feel right, Utahime.” She nods, agreeing with your observation. “When did the reports come flooding in?”
“About an hour ago now.”
“Hm,” you wonder, thinking back to when you first found the cursed womb. “That’s about the same time I first sensed the presence of the cursed womb. They’re most likely connected.”
“That's what I thought. The presence of the cursed womb must have irritated some of the curses in the city, most likely because they were drawn to the energy fluctuations the cursed womb caused. It's good you were here. We're stretched thin right now. If you don’t mind staying, we could use your help. The other students are out on missions across the city, and things just keep getting worse.” 
You smile up at her before pushing yourself back up on your two feet, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Sure, let’s get going–” but as you stand, it feels as if a bolt of lightning strikes you down or as if your chest has been cracked open by a sledgehammer. The agony was too great to even scream as you fell to your knees and crashed back into the ground. 
It was lights out. 
-
It was quiet. Dark—a vast, unending expanse of nothingness that swallowed you whole. An endless drift. It would have almost been peaceful if not for the faint pull at the edges of your awareness, like an anchor trying to tether to something you couldn’t see. 
But then came the first sound. 
You heard voices—muffled cries. Please wake up, said one voice. Please stay with me, came another. 
Pain began to throb somewhere in the background, dull and distant. Disembodied as if it belonged to someone else. 
Don’t you dare leave me. The voice was sharp, demanding, cracking under the weight of fear. You knew that voice and remembered all the sweet things it used to whisper to you. Your heart takes a painful lurch. You can hear its occasional beat in your ears. We need you. I need you. 
Oddly, you were cold.
You were drifting again, further and further. The anchor was slipping. You were sinking, your head hardly above water, when another muffled voice broke through—whimpering, sobbing. Your heart lurches painfully.
Mom, please don’t go.
The words pierce through the nothingness, shattering it all to bits and pieces. The words pull at you, a lifeline you hadn’t known you clung to and needed. Images begin to flash, and suddenly, the voices are no longer just voices. Your heart suddenly burns as though the memory of life itself is fighting its way back into you. 
Your eyelids were heavy, limbs weak, unresponsive—cold. You were so cold, but it wasn’t enough to stop you from crawling out of a black pit that threatened to swallow you whole. There’s a faint sensation of pressure, a hand tightly gripping yours. 
Light begins bleeding into the edges of your awareness. You sucked in a deep breath, lungs empty and greedy. 
Then, your eyes fluttered open.  
You blinked a few times, realizing how hard it was to breathe. Breathing was supposed to be an automatic response, but you had to force it, each breath dragging along the back of your throat like sandpaper. You’re weak and shivering as you use most of your energy to sit up. You were in an empty room, you realized—the sharp smell of sanitizer permeating your nose. 
You push yourself out of bed, knees buckling under your weight. You catch yourself, gathering whatever bits of strength you have left. Your teeth clattered. You were freezing. Shaking, you wrapped the white blanket over your shoulders, gripping it tight before you trudged towards the door.
The hall was mostly empty, all except for a sleeping boy slouched over in a chair beside your door. Your heart squeezes. 
“Megumi,” you whispered his name. You stare at him for a moment, unable to bite back the tears that nip at your dry eyes. 
You wrapped the blanket around him, tucking it gently around him. However, he flinches, jumping straight up in his chair. “S-Sorry,” you tell him quickly with a watery smile. “You looked cold.” 
“You…” the word was a raw and weak whisper. His eyes widened. It took a moment for recognition to settle in, but once it did, he spoke again. “You’re awake.” He stood up from his chair, and you stepped back, offering him space. “You’re awake,” he repeated again. 
Then, you start to wonder just how long you’ve been out of it. Days? Weeks? The thought of months terrifies you, but before you can even go down that loophole, he’s hugging you tightly. “You’re awake,” he says once more, his voice breaking. 
However long it was, he’s right. You’re awake. You’re here, living and breathing. You wrap your arms around his torso, patting and rubbing his back soothingly. “Yup… I’m here. I’m awake.” 
You let him be the one to pull away, letting him take however long he needs. You enjoyed it regardless. You couldn’t remember the last time you hugged him. 
When he pulls away, his eyes are red. He sniffs a bit, backing up and taking the blanket off his shoulders. This time, he’s the one wrapping the fabric around you. He’s frowning a bit as he does. “... you’re the one that’s cold,” he notes quietly. 
“What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” He asks softly, brows furrowing. 
You shook your head. No. Frankly, you didn’t remember much of anything right now. “I was on my way with Yuji and Nobara. We got on the train after you let me know where you were staying.” That’s right. You texted Megumi when you figured out where you’d be staying. You thought they’d come over sometime in the following days. You had no idea they were rushing to see you on the next available train. 
He places his hands awkwardly on your shoulder before gently guiding you to the chair he was sitting in moments ago. As you go to sit, your body seems to forget how to move for a moment, and you lose your balance. He catches you quickly, carefully helping you down into the chair. “When we got to Kyoto, we realized quickly how bad things were over there.   We started helping out at the Kyoto school, dealing with the curses that had been lingering in the area where the cursed womb opened up. Eventually, we ran into Todo and Miwa. They told us what happened.” He grunts, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you. 
You’re silent for a moment. “How long was I out for?”
“Pushing four days now.” 
The memories strike you like a fright train. “Are you okay? Is everyone alright?” You hadn’t realized you had reached for his cheek. 
He grabs your wrist, thumb gently caressing the back of your hand before pulling your hand away, guiding it back to your lap. He moves the blanket until it's covering you again.  “We’re all fine. Everything’s been dealt with. Yuji and Nobara went down to the cafe to grab some lunch. They’ll be thrilled when they come back.”
You tilt your head. “Why didn’t you go with them?”
He smiles a bit. “I didn’t want to leave you unattended.”
You don’t know what to think. You’re just happy you’re back. Happy because he was happy. You always hated it when he worried about you. You never believed it was his job to do so. However, he stayed by your side and protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself. 
You wiggle your toes and roll your shoulders before standing again. “You shouldn’t be standing–”
“I’m alright, I promise,” you tell him, dismissing his concern. “I just want to walk around, okay?”
He stares at you intently, unsure, but he seems to have no energy to argue with you. “... alright,” he relents. 
He follows you closely as you drag your feet across the floor. You don’t know where you are walking, but you want to stretch your legs and regain a sense of your body. You are weak, but you need to move. 
You ask the question you were too hesitant to ask: “What about Gojo?”
He huffs. “He left a little while ago. Said he’d be back shortly,” he scoffs. “Bullshit if you ask me.”
“Megumi,” you sigh his name with a soft reprimand. 
“He should be here,” he responds disgruntledly. “He should be by your side, and he’s not."
You stay quiet. You’re not exactly sure what to say to him when you agree. Maybe Gojo was done. Whatever this was, whatever relationship you had—maybe he didn’t want you anymore. You look ahead, fighting your own body that threatened to collapse at any moment. You could feel Megumi’s eyes on you, but you didn’t have the heart to look at him right now.
You were afraid you would sob if you did. 
Though you had never walked these halls before, the hospital's layout was quite easy to catch on to. After taking a fourth right turn, you see your room in the distance. A stubborn part of you says to keep going and keep walking, but the exhaustion is catching up to you quickly. If Megumi hadn’t been by your side, cautious eyes scanning you, you might have kept going until you passed out. You realize that the strength you had was nearly depleted. Only trickles of your cursed energy remained, and it would be a long while before you gained it back. 
You hear footsteps behind you. Quick and ushered. Megumi turns before you, his whole frame tensing.  He sucks his teeth and clicks his tongue. “So he finally shows up.” He speaks in a sardonic tone, loud enough for anyone in the hallways to hear.
Satoru comes running from around the corner then, taking deep breaths. Your brows slightly pinch together in confusion. “S–Satoru,” you stutter, walking closer. “When did you get here?”  He looks disheveled. Alarmed. Was he just running? 
It was hard trying to figure out what he was feeling or experiencing when that black eyeband covered his eyes. However, you noticed the bouquet in his hands, a delicate combination of soft and tender hues: pale pink and roses, white peonies, deep pink lilies, and baby’s breath delicately wrapped along sprigs of greenery. 
You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat with the others?”
“But–”
“I’ll be alright,” you explain to him in a soft tone.
He hesitates, torn between staying and leaving.  He was unsure if he should leave you to handle this alone, but after a moment, he backed down, probably realizing he shouldn’t stand between the two of you and what needed to happen. With an irate glance shot at Gojo, he turns, pocketing his hands as he makes his way to the stairs. 
Only when the door shuts do you look at Satoru again. 
He stays unusually quiet, his face unreadable. Frankly, it was rather unsettling. You had no idea what was going through his mind. “I–I’m sorry!” you blurt out the first words that crash to the surface of your mind the moment you see him in his entirety. There was no hope of holding back. After days spent away from him, lost in his absence, and days dancing on the edge of death, the words tumble out of you before you can stop them—unbidden, unstoppable. “For everything. Y–You must have been stressed with work and other things. My fuck up only added to your plate. I get it, ya know? It's selfish of me, even now, to rely on you so much when there’s a whole world that needs you. They are not my students, and I put them in danger.” Quickly, the tears gather in your waterline again, but you blink them away. “I–I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll get out of your way, and you won’t have to deal with me bothering you any longer–”
���Can I touch you?” The question comes suddenly, softly, and almost hesitantly. 
You blink a few times, puzzled, but then, you unravel, folding inward under the weight of his voice. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he still holding onto what you had said that night? Was he haunted by the barriers broken and the others so carelessly assembled? 
He still wanted you? 
You didn’t want him to let you go. Not yet. Not ever.
Like a dam breaking, you surged forward, closing the space between you two. Seconds later, you feel his resolve crumble. He crushes you to his chest, flowers falling to the floor. His arms enveloped you with a force that robbed you of breath, your feet nearly coming off the ground as you both stumble backward. Trembling, he clung to you as if you were an anchor in a world that threatened to tear him apart. There were no words—the unspoken agony and grief were far too overwhelming to put into words—if there even were words for it. 
I’m sorry. I love you. I’m glad you’re okay.  You felt it all with him. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, hear its frantic rhythm match your own.
His hands were shaking, one tangling in your hair, the other wrapping entirely around your frame and squeezing your hip. He buries his face into your neck, and his hot breath is ragged and uneven as he inhales your scent. “I thought–” he swallows, shaking his head. “I didn’t know where you were—for a second time.”
Your cursed energy was low, more depleted than it had ever been. It explains why you were so weak, so frail. When he saw your empty bed, he must’ve panicked. He ran to you, anxiously following the weak traces of your presence. 
Your fingers tangle in his hair, and the familiar silk of his eyeband rubs against your skin. You gently tug at the fabric with the tips of your fingers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he stills as you slip the black band from his face. He lifts his head just enough to rest it against yours. They were that same stunning shade of azure—bright and impossibly vivid, glowing softly as if they carried the remnants of a forgotten star. Captivating, otherworldly, yet achingly human—something he’d often forget from time to time. 
“You promised,” he murmurs, voice broken. “You promised.”  
“What are you talking about?” you ask just as brokenly. 
Suddenly, one of his hands grasps your neck, and you choke on your words. He doesn’t squeeze tight, but the look on his face is enough to make you gasp. “I couldn’t feel you. I couldn’t feel you anymore,” he says achingly. 
Your chest tightens, nails slightly digging into his forearm. You open your mouth to speak, failing more times than succeeding. You wanted to speak, but the words lodged in your mouth. 
“I–I don’t understand.”
“You’re not wearing it anymore,” he murmurs, his nose brushing softly against your cheek. The necklace you always wore—his gift to you, the one that held a part of him, a part of the two of you—was gone. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, an absence that gnawed at him like hunger, an emptiness he could never satisfy. 
His voice wasn’t angry, far from it. It wasn’t even harsh, but something in it—a quiet desperation—made the air between the two of you quiver. 
“You promised you’d never go where I couldn’t follow,” he whispers again. “Remember?” 
You nod in his hold, tightly pursing your lips together when a few tears escape, dripping from your eyes.  He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours again, gazing deep and unwavering into your eyes. I remember. His grip on your neck loosens until he removes his hand from your throat completely, gentle fingers pushing down your shirt's fabric. His fingers trace your skin, the empty spot where your necklace once laid. 
Then, it suddenly hits you. “Oh.”  
He could feel you as much as you felt him. If you were ever too far from him—out of the range of his sight, out from where his hands could reach for you, that necklace was a beacon, a beckoning, a lighthouse in the storm that guided you home—guided him home. 
You squeeze him tighter. You missed him. You really missed him. 
“How did you find me?” 
He takes a moment to breathe, trying to settle the rapid beat of his heart. “Utahime.” He wheezes out a pained laugh. “She called me panicking once you collapsed. I got there as quickly as I could.”  
You copy his laugh, albeit coughing a bit from the pain blooming in your ribs. You hated to admit it, but the longer you stood, the more your body began to hurt. “I should just heal myself and get this over with.”
“Don’t,” his grip tightens on you again. “you’re using it wrong. There’s damage, lots of it,” he tells you, wiping at the blood that had stained your skin at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Any more and–” his eyebrows furrowed deeply, the weight of grief and guilt tugging his features. The corner of his lips tightened. “Shoko operated on you for hours. You nearly died.”
He sees what others cannot, his gaze piercing the surface to something deeper, something raw. He sees the world through an entirely different lens, and right now, the sight of you seems to pain him dearly. 
For a moment, you wonder just how much damage is hidden within you and how much it must weigh on him to see it. “Shoko might have gotten you out of the woods, but she told me you’d need a few more rounds to get you back to normal.”
“That makes sense,” you murmur, allowing your entire body weight to ease into him. He accepts you with open arms. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or twenty.”
“I missed it,” he utters, voice thick with regret. “If I had just looked a bit closer, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I fucked up. I could’ve prevented this.” His careful grip on you tightens as if you’d slip away from him once more.  “But,” his tone softens. “You did so well. You took care of that cursed womb before I could even get to the scene.” Even through his pain and wallowing, his heart swells. He was proud of you. 
He bends down, grabbing the flowers he dropped before moving towards you again. “Oh gosh,” you hide your face into his neck as he reaches down, one arm hooking under your legs as he lifts you. You don’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m definitely fired, aren’t I?” 
He carefully guides you back into your room. He manages to toss your flowers on the counter by the window. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll handle it. ‘Kay?” He places you down on your bed, but he hesitates, not wanting to fully pull away. 
Your eyes flicker, recalling the night of your augment. You knew this was the reason behind his haunted expression. You recognized the torment because you, too, had felt it. “You’re mad,” he observes relatively quickly.
You didn’t want to bring it up. You weren't necessarily mad, not anymore, but even near death couldn’t make you forget the pain he had caused with words he so carelessly struck you down with. 
“What you said… Hurt me, Gojo,” you look down at your hands, feeling selfish for even bringing this up after nearly dying. However, you knew this conversation was inevitable.  “Even if you were right I felt cast aside. Useless. Why didn't you tell me you felt that way before?”
“No… don’t say that. I was being stupid. I over reacted. I know you'd always protect those kids and that's exactly what you did. You’re not weak or a nuisance, or... convenient.” you flinch at the word. “You’re far from that. I need you to know that.”
“...Then what am I?”
“Everything,” he shudders. “You’re everything.” His lips brush over your forehead, your cheeks, and eyelids, each kiss tender and lingering. But then he pauses, his smooth lips hovering just above yours. He’s always been so confident, so self-assured. You’re unsure how to react.
You were sitting on your bed, feet dangling just above the floor. He is leaning over you, one large and warm hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face gently. He was close, but not close enough. Even bent at the waist, his height keeps him just out of your reach unless he leans back down just a bit more…
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, giving him all the assurance you have to offer.
You were hurt, but you still wanted him.
You still loved him. 
His mouth was warm and soft—testing the waters and treading carefully. His grip on your thigh tightens until– 
He lets go. You feel the tension in his body dissipate, and finally, he allows himself to fully enjoy you—taste you. The kiss deepens, and you swear it brought life back into your frail body. He overwhelms you now in the most delicious way possible. Your toes curl, and your tight embrace eases. Your arms go weak, your hands moving to run down his chest, his taut muscles quivering in the wake of your touch.  Every moment was a promise, every brush of skin a new vow. No words were spoken, but you both heard everything that had been held back, everything that had been left unsaid. 
I’m sorry.
I love you. 
I love you.
I love you. 
He smiles against your lips, but you don’t stop or pull away, catching and nipping at his bottom lip. Then, you kiss him again, slotting his top lip between yours. “You really love me, huh? Hehe.”
Oh. You hadn’t realized you said it—whimpered murmurs against his lips. No wonder why he looked all dopey and smiley. 
“You’re not going to make me grovel for forgiveness?” He pecks your lips again. “This seems too easy. I know you’re still mad.”
You chase after his lips. “Of course, I’m still mad,” you mutter against him. “But I thought I would never see you again.” Even as he frowns, you pepper his lips with kisses. “Plus, it's not like you to grovel.”
“I would for. Only for you, of course.”
You giggle, nipping his lip a little harder. “Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d like to see that.”
Oh no. You’ve made a grave mistake. You knew you messed up again the second the words fell from your lips. There’s a glint in his eyes now. 
“Oh, my beautiful, angelic Queen! I know I have displeased you. Please accept my humble apologies!” You squeak at the suddenness of his actions. He sinks to his knees dramatically, and his palms meet the dirty floor, and so does his forehead. “I am at your mercy! I have failed you greatly, and I wish to make amends.”
You swat him on the back of his head, but it's not nearly enough to hurt him or deter him from whatever this is. “Gojo! Don’t bow like that! Get up!”
“But I can’t!” He whines. “You must forgive me! I will spend eternity on my knees if it means I can regain your favor, my perfect, beautiful, divine Queen. You alone rule this sinners heart!”  He inches forward on his knees, squeezing himself between your legs. His hands find homage on your waist as he nudges his face into your stomach.
Your eyes roll skyward. “Only you could apologize and insult me at the same time, Satoru,” you grumble, looking down at him before running your fingers through white stands. 
Suddenly, he looks up from this position, resting his chin right beneath your ribs, grinning ear to ear. “You called me Satoru~”
You feel your face flush, heat gushing to your cheeks and ears. “Shut up. You’re such an idiot. Can you get up now?”
“Nah,” he says lazily, burying his head into your stomach again. His voice comes out muffled. “I’m trying to make amends with my Queen. Let me, will ya?”
You ease, realizing you won't be able to stop him from doing what he wants. Even if it was a bit theatrical, he was doing his best—you know that because you know him. You let your nails gently graze his scalp as you continued to pat him. He hums, almost purrs, as your other hand finds his shoulder, squeezing him gently before running your fingers under his shirt, caressing his skull and the taut muscles in his back. A beat of silence passes, but you find yourself uncaring.
You had him back in your arms. That’s all that really mattered to you right now.
“Look, I know… I know I messed up,” he begins, voice so low, you nearly miss it. “I’m not great at this—saying the right things. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was stressed. I was fed up with the higher-ups and fed up with my missions, but that’s no excuse. If I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat. You deserve better than what I was giving you. I’m gonna try to be better… for you. For us.”  His words hang in the air a bit awkwardly, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It couldn’t be missed. He shifts a bit, moving to kiss your belly. Then, his large hand wrap around yours, guiding your hand closer to his lips. He kisses the back of your knuckles tenderly as if the act of his apology could never be enough.
“You want me to stay?”
He squeezes you tighter. “Of course I do. What would I be without you?”
“Hm. You’d still be Gojo Satoru. Even without me.” 
“I don’t want to imagine a life without you,” he mutters. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow. I've already told you that…”
“Don’t say that,” you whisper sweetly, patting his head. He nudges his head further into you. “The world will always need you.”
“I will always need you. So please… stop talking like this.” He pinches your side, making you squeak. Finally he looks up, an unimpressed expression gracing his features. “And don’t ever leave the city to get away from me. When you told me you were going to a hotel, I thought you meant in Tokyo.”
You chuckle nervously, looking elsewhere. “Yeah… Sorry about that.” 
“Next time, take a walk or something. I dunno, go touch some grass if you get tired of me.”
A small smile escaped you, followed by a quiet laugh that shook your shoulders. You pat his back three times before kneading him softly. “Okay, humble peasant. You've groveled for long enough. Now lay with me,” you demand him. “I want you to lay with me. I’m so tired.”
“Psh. I’d hardly fit on this bed.”
“Whatever,” you tell him, scooting over. “I’ll make room. Get in, string bean.”
He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”
 It’s a bit awkward at first with his lanky form, but he makes it work. It was a tight fit, and his feet slightly dangled off the bed, but he made no objections. With your back to his chest, he held you against him securely.
“You’re cold,” he observes out loud when you start playing with his fingers. It’s a bitter realization, a deafening one on his part. You know it bothers him, especially as he wraps the blanket around you tighter.
He tries not to let it show. However, he quickly becomes restless and you know he isn’t sated. He begins to move. “Let me go get you another blanket.”
“Nooo. Stay here.”
“Huh? But you’re freezing! And you’re never cold!”
“I’m already warming up!” You intervene with a small giggle, tugging him by his jacket. “Just shut up and lay with me, already.” He hesitates before unbuttoning his black jacket. When he was determined, there wasn’t any stopping a man like him, and right now, he was determined to get you warm.
He lays his jacket over you, spreading the fabric out, smoothing away all the wrinkles, and making sure you're covered. It might as well be a blanket with how long it was over you. Bonus points because it still carried him warmth and smelled like his cologne. A blend of earth and wood with a hint of something darker—smokey and smooth. You always loved the scent. Whenever he walked by, it brushed past you like a gentle breeze over still water, warm and inviting, with subtle notes of leather, musk, and vanilla. 
He grunts a bit before easing into the bed again. “My little icicle- ow,” you shot your elbow back, getting him right in the ribs. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He chuckles, before wrapping his arms over you one more. He brushes your hair from your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. He kisses you there once, twice, three times before saying something familiar. 
“I could sense when you left Tokyo. I didn’t know what to do. Even with my eyes, I couldn’t find you. You were just gone. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow." He kisses your neck. "Please.”
You turn around, searching for his lips. He melts into you once again, squeezing your side sweetly. “I promise,” you murmur. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” you say, voicing back the same promise he made you. He smiles faintly against your lips.  
When you woke up the next morning, your necklace was there. It was back where it belonged, sapphires resting gently over your steady beating heart—carrying Satoru’s silent promise.
Wherever you go, that’s where I follow. 
-
a/n: I honestly don't know how I feel about this but if you made it to the end I hope the nearly 18k was worth reading. If you couldn't tell its based off the song Die With A Smile. Honestly, I think I might have been happier by making this a bit longer and flushing out some of the scenes more, but I was trying new things and I was excited to post my first jjk post :) however its getting late now but if there's any typos or errors I notice later I'll edit as needed.
anyways, if you'd like to see more gojo x sorcerer!reader let me know! also I really hoped you liked the bits I added with Megumi (he's just a smol bean).
likes and reblogs are always appreciated! :p
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monstersholygrail · 8 months ago
Text
Dinner is served
Pairing: Minotaur husband x fem!reader — oral (f! receiving), horn stimulation, cum eating, aftercare
You always figured yourself to be a traditional person. You know, you wanted the husband, the house, the white picket fence. The whole nine yards.
You had also always gone for the traditional man. Big muscles, tough and strong, a protector and a provider. It was the type you always tended to gravitate toward.
Your ex had been that kind of person. The kind of man who expected dinner and a stiff drink waiting for him as soon as he got home. For a while you enjoyed it, taking care of someone. But eventually you realized that while you took care of him, he never took care of you.
Now you still prefer a nice traditional guy. Your new husband is just as traditional, preferring dinner to be ready and waiting as soon as he comes home.
Only now the meal is you.
Minotaur husband comes to walking into your shared home, hooves booming against the wood floors due to his size. He lifts his nose and breathes in a long whiff. A heavenly mixture of your scent and his comes rolling into his nose and he shudders.
Walking into the dining room he's disgruntled to find you not where he expected you to be. With his impatience simmering he calls out your name.
"Why isn't dinner on the table?" He adds, his voice rising in order for you to hear him, wherever you were off too. You come prancing in a moment later, the dress you're wearing providing him easy access.
"Sorry! It was a nightmare getting this thing on," you tease, falling into their waiting arms and rising onto your toes for a kiss. Your husband responds immediately with a fierce determination to consume you. His claws squeezing at your soft hips and pulling your small body into his ginormous stature. You shiver at the way he so easily surrounds you. How he could so easily crush you yet you've never felt safer than when you're in his arms. A smirk plays on his lips as you two break away.
"Well, get on up there," he says through gritted teeth in attempts to hide how eager he is to devour his meal. His hand slides down, giving your ass an appreciative slap. A small yelp leaves you as you fall to your feet.
Tossing him a scolding look, you head deeper into the dining room. Hopping up on the table and reclining. You watch your husband walk past you, his gaze very much intent on one thing. As he sits down at the head of the table, your legs automatically widen for him, resulting in a gruff snort of praise.
With his claws digging gently into your thighs, your husband dives right in, his long thick tongue splitting your folds open with ease. You cry out, gripping the table as he feasts on your cunt. His slobbering tongue lapping up your essence before delving deeply in your walls.
A short gasp of pleasure breaks through you and your hands shoot out, gripping the base of your husband's horns. Your Minotaur husband moans, hips jolting, and causing his bulge to nudge the underside of the table. You tighten your hold on his horns, shrieking as the table rattles below you.
"That's it. Hold on tight," your husband growls against your pussy, sending vibrations through your clit. You whimper loudly as he continues his feast with a feral vigor, tongue fucking you that he's been counting down the minutes till he could get between your legs. And you're sure he was.
His broad tongue reaches deep inside you, caressing your g-spot with every thrust. Your moans rise in frequency, another ripping out of you with every swipe of his tongue that consumes you.
Before you know it you're gushing on his tongue, using your grip on his horns to burry him in your pussy so you can grind on his face. Your husband grunts out his pleasure, making sure to swallow every bit of your release and lick up every drop he might've missed.
You shake against the table, your high still moving through you in waves. But your hands slide down to cup his dampened cheeks as he raises his head to look at you, gaze still sparking with lust.
His hands massage as your legs in attempts to calm the tremors. He looks over your weakened state and knows he should wait. Besides, he can't fuck you on a dining room table again. This is the tenth one he's bought in three months, the salespeople practically know him by name at this point.
"How about I start on the rest of dinner while you calm down, love?" He asks, the rumble in his voice filled to the brim with restrained need. He goes to stand up when he sees your pouting face.
"Take me with you?" You ask gently, your voice croaking slightly. Your husband's heart melts and there's no way he can deny you. Not that he'd ever decide to spend time away from you anyway when given the choice.
He scoops up your pliant body in his arms with ease. Your weight absolutely nothing to a man of his size. He keeps you huddled against the short fur of his body as he heads into the kitchen where he'll cook you both dinner as you sit all pretty on the counter. Only helping when you want.
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360iris · 2 months ago
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Feeling as though Rook is secondary to Neve? You shouldn’t, not really at least because Rook is irreplaceable for the same reasons people are holding animosity towards Neve.
‘Neve gets him without doing any of the hard work.’ Rook is the only person alive who could even be able to. That’s the whole point.
Saving Minrathous results in the Inner Demons quest never happening.
Meaning an unhealed Lucanis never makes peace with Spite.
Meaning he goes on to enter a relationship with a woman (to no fault of her own) who could never, and would never, force him to face his fears and give him the unyielding encouragement needed to live without compartmentalizing every important thing to ever happen to him.
Without Rook completing that quest— Lucanis remains chained down by his debilitating fear of disappointing Caterina, the shame of being made into an abomination against his will, the guilt of being the one who got off easier than Neve and the pain and anger Illario’s betrayal brought onto him.
“Thoughts live here. Ideas. Feelings.” Disappointment. Shame. Guilt. Betrayal. All of which Lucanis felt were too big, too messy to face.
Solavellan is Rookanis’ foil. Except Rook is if Lavellan had succeeded in persuading Solas to face his regrets.
And what was the crux of the replacement Fade prison Solas crafted for the Evanuris? It was a prison built on regret, and the only way to leave would be to face them. Which Ghilan’nan and Elgar’nan would never be able to do.
Spite says “Lucanis is here. Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.” But Rook can.
In his mind’s eye, Lucanis makes Caterina, Harding, Neve and Illario his jailers of negative emotions in a prison of his own creation.
And in all that inner turmoil, his idea of Illario says, “Rook, you’re too good to be here.”
Rook isn’t one of his jailers, not because they don’t matter enough compared to the others, but because Lucanis’ thoughts, ideas and feelings for Rook are too good.
Rook opens doors, they’re not a jailer who throws away the key. In Lucanis and Spite’s eyes, Rook is the key. They are a liberator, a hero, the only one he’ll listen to.
Love, understanding, the unwavering promise of companionship (platonic or romantic) despite the risk to themselves sets Lucanis free.
I’ve seen people who are disappointed in his storyline complain that it feels as though ‘Rook strong arms him into a committed relationship’ that he somehow ‘feels obligated to indulge’ and engage in as a result of saving Treviso. I believe these claims just end up ignoring the really good diamonds in the rough we’re given in terms of Rookanis relationship development.
A romanced!Lucanis gives way to lines like “I don’t know what Rook sees in me. I’m happy to just be around them.”
And paralleling scenes like when Caterina chastises a kneeling Illario with “A Dellamorte never kneels.” Only for Lucanis to later walk over to a post-Fade trapped Rook and literally kneel at their feet like they’re the only deity he cares to worship like this is Take Me To Church by Hozier.
And what is Rookanis as a ship, if not Rook teaching him it’s okay to assert himself, which leads to Lucanis reclaiming his humanity through an act of love? Just saying. Given time, and love, he turns into a Gomez Addams sort of romantic figure.
If Rook were associated as any feeling to Lucanis then they’d be love. Affection. A state of understanding. Purpose? Freedom?
Better yet, Rook could be determination. After all, Rook’s defining characteristic is that they ‘just can’t seem to quit’— in the face of the man they care about saying ‘give up on me, i’m damaged goods’ why wouldn’t they win him over in the end?
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weiweific · 2 months ago
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mark fic recs ₊✩‧₊
finally going through all my likes to put together a comprehensive of all of my fave mark fics! as a result, there's older and newer fics here - enjoy!!! (also most of these are smut lol)
(m) smut | (f) fluff | (a) angst
one shots
surviving no nut november by @domjaehyun | m | 28.8k one of my fave fics!!!, ft. haechan, college au
pretty little weapon by @lisired | m, slight a | 25.7k undercover cop!mark, crime/gang au author summary: A lifetime worth of adversity had brought you to Bloodlust. You joined them to escape your history, but with Mark Lee - an undercover narcotics agent with a secret to keep - comes the threat of being forced to confront your past. Old wounds are opened, but scars heal.
pretty boy by @ncteez | m | 9.3k nerdy & shy mark, college au author summary: Mark’s favorite thing to do is sit alone at the library and enjoy the knowledge that his university offers. In contrast, your favorite thing to do is go to parties and enjoy as much chaos as possible. However, upon realizing your grades have dropped drastically due to this lifestyle, you have no choice but to approach Mark for help. or the one where your new favorite thing to do is seduce the most inexperienced man you’ve ever met and watch how desperate he gets for you.
graphic by @hausofwoo | m, f | 6.6k college!au, spiderman obsessed mark!! <3 author summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you’ve even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.
on edge by @ncteez | m | 22.5k infidelity, ft. boyfriend doyoung author summary: Dating the strict, well-liked, and loving Doyoung came with its hurdles. Normally, the two of you could communicate and work through the downsides, but what if the newest downside of the relationship is learning that his little brother, Mark, has a bit of a thing for you?
flipside by @yutaholic | m | 21k underground racer au author summary: When your father moves you overseas for his job, you are determined to hate it until you discover the illegal street races happening after nightfall. Boys are quick to vie for your attention, but none catch your eye like Mark, who takes you on the ride of a lifetime.
with a little pixie dust by @sehunniepotwrites | f | 11.9k cutest best friends to lovers au author summary: There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)
watch me by @sluttyten | m | 14.6k neighbours au, voyeurism author summary: you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?
go with it by @seouljazzbar | m | 6k best friends to lovers au author summary: “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it
bad habits. by @mrkis | m, slight a? | 6.5k slight toxic behaviour, dealer!mark author summary: ❝you know you're my favourite.❞
this is (not) easy by @mrkis | m | 13.2k friends to lovers, fwb situation author summary: getting into a friends with benefits situation with your all time best friend was so (not) easy
nervously in love by @angelwonie | m, f | 5.2k established relationship author summary: despite his very obvious sexual attraction towards you, your boyfriend keeps holding himself back from sleeping with you. OR the three times you want to fuck mark lee and the one time you do.
real talk by @smileysuh | m | 19.4k restaurant au, coworkers to lovers author summary: “You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”
gelato by @hazyhae | m | 14.4k plug!mark, weed use, friends to strangers to lovers author summary: a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and you’ve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.
kiss u right now by @domjaehyun | m, f | 6.9k mark pining harddd author summary: in which mark just really wants to kiss you. alternative summary. five times mark wanted to kiss you and one time he actually does.
play with me by @domjaehyun | m, f | 4.6k weed use, best friends mark
series
sweet cream, cold brew by @lucyandthepen | m, f | 2 shot, 46.7k total college au, nerd!barista!mark, a very sweet fic with lots of pining <3 author summary: something about mark lee keeps you up at night, and you’re pretty sure that it isn’t the lingering smell of espresso on his shirt.
unholy by @sluttyten | m | 19 chapters supernatural au, poly!au featuring ten, yuta, winwin & mark author summary: you’re a religious good girl when one day you find yourself sucked into a dark world of myth, legend, and creatures of horror. You never believed they were real, but now there are demons, vampires, werewolves, and so much more. In the magic and in the seduction, you begin to lose who you were and discover who you are. And most confusing of all? You want every bit of it.
quarantine chronicles by @domjaehyun | m | 3 parts | 126.7k featuring jaehyun, johnny, jaemin & jungwoo author summary: fourteen days, five roommates, and five remarkably high sex drives. what could go wrong?
smashing the six by @yutaholic | m | 6 parts other parts feature jeno, johnny, jaehyun and haechan - kinda have to read all the other parts for it to make sense!!, college au author summary: there’s a notorious tradition at nct university - hookup with a player from each of the six athletic programs. bonus points awarded if you get any of them to fall in love with you. but don’t forget about neonet, nctu’s infamous social media app, where rumors get passed around like candy and no one is safe from having their business aired out for all to see.
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tojisbbg · 3 months ago
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𝙢𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚?
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❝fuck me like you mad at me, baby; i need a freak to drive me crazy!❞  
♡ sae itoshi ♡
wc: 14.5k
a/n: i love my nonchalant princess sm. the storyline is a bit long 'cause i got carried away lmao. but trust the process guys, it's good i promise ;)
reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3
content: sae itoshi x fem!reader, reader plays for blue lock (yes, what a queen!), eventual smut, sae is filthy lol, all acts are consensual, disclaimer: i have no knowledge on soccer or how the games work in general lmfao, porn with plot, not edited.
---
jealousy has never been a pretty look, nor has the toxic radiation of arrogance.
it's funny how men can be threatened to such miniscule things, afraid that it'll bruise their strikingly huge egos; bigger than their dicks!
yes, the world is unfair, and sadly women will never be seen as equals. unfortunately, we live in a time where what's in our pants determines our self-worth like some kind of auctioned price tag.
but, you weren't about to label yourself with a price tag stamped on you by a man.
and what better way to do that than being annoyingly damn good at something that was created for men.
the way soccer has deeply nestled itself in your veins was something that most definitely wasn't on your bingo card. you grew up in a small town where people were familiar with each other, being able to tell apart who was a neighbor and who was a stranger.
your dream was to graduate high school with honors and attend a prestigious university in a foreign country; following your passion of becoming an aspiring cardiologist.
but, of course, the criteria list was as big as your ambition. you were required to do a bunch of stuff, such as volunteering for community service, internships, maintaining your grades, and most importantly.... play a sport?!
if there's one thing you absolutely hated in the world, it would have to be playing sports. you weren't athletic at all and you felt limited because where you lived barely had any inclusivity for female players.
but, the university admissions office wanted an all-rounded student, so, you had no choice.
you begged your school's boys soccer coach to let you play. the old man was a tough cookie, hard to crack, but with enough pestering; he gave in. more so, he thought you'd be the one to give up and not show up on the second practice session.
but, to his surprise, you held your ground. in no time, your body went through a series of changes. you became more toned and lean, your strength and stamina gradually increased as well.
the guys on the team ridiculed you multiple times when you struggled to understand the rules or play strategy; but, they'd soon swallow their own words after noticing how in every game it always seemed like you had woken up as someone new.
your adaptability, stamina, improvisation and intuition resulted in you to easily climb up the ranks; replacing the team's captain who served for 2 years.
naturally, your school gained popularity for having such a strong soccer team, and you became the infamous ace card; even though you were the only female player on the team.
of course, you didn't really care about all that. after all, you were doing this in order to prepare a neat and tidy application to ship yourself somewhere else to pursue your dreams. so, you'd mindlessly played against other schools and ultimately; lead your team to victory.
win after win after win.
what you didn't expect was that a lady with short auburn hair has been eyeing from the very beginning; spectating like a creep.
your senior year of high school came by and you were a few months away from graduating. your applications have been submitted and you felt like someone freed you from the shackles of stress. you spent your eighteenth birthday with friends and family, of course, being teased by your relatives of how your body was becoming "more like a man" or whatever the hell that means.
spring had just begun and your acceptance letter has come in the mail. you eagerly opened it, practically screaming in happiness as you almost tripped down the flight of stairs to announce to your parents-
"i'm going to yale!"
you had finished your last soccer practice for the season. while you were about to head in the direction of your house, you saw a lady with short auburn hair approach you.
you tried to ignore her, maybe she was walking towards someone behind you? but, you couldn't hear anyone behind you. she politely smiled at you, almost as if she could read your mind.
"uh, can i help you?" you asked, confused.
"you're y/n, right?" she confirmed, making you cock an eyebrow.
"yes, that would be me." you answered, a bit taken back from her sudden acknowledgment of your existence.
"i've been watching you for quite some time now, and i must say, you are a fine piece of talent for the world of soccer!" she enthusiastically praised, making you look at her with a dumbfounded expression.
"uhm, thank you?....creepy." you awkwardly expressed your gratitude, while mumbling the last part. but, it seems that she very loud and clearly heard you, chuckling at your words.
"listen, i've been watching the most talented soccer players in different parts of japan to recruit. my dream is to create the best soccer team in japan that will win the world cup. so, i created the blue lock project." she passionately explained.
"nice." you blandly responded, making her stare at you like you have two heads.
"are you not getting it? i'm recruiting you to the blue lock project, y/n." she frowned, but her words were still registering in your head.
blue lock project?
world cup?
this must be some joke. so, you laughed at her face like it was one.
"i tried to put past the whole creepy stalking you did on me but this is the most absurd thing you've said so far in our short interaction. you're asking me, a woman, to play in your all-men soccer team that you're planning to perfect for the world cup? listen, lady, i think you need to go home and take a nice nap to clear your head." you scoffed, readjusting your duffel bag as you prepared to walk off, only to be halted as she grabbed your wrist.
"wait! please, just think about it! i know... i know what you're thinking and i get it. us women, we don't get these kinds of opportunities and when we do, there's always some level of competition and gender-bias. but, as a woman myself, whose ambition is to craft the perfect japanese soccer team, i want a woman to play in it. i want a woman to win the world cup! please, i'm requesting you, reconsider." she begged, making your mouth slightly drop.
you sigh heavily, looking at her with stern eyes.
"i'm sorry, but, you'll have to achieve that dream with someone else. i'm not cut out for this life, soccer isn't even my dream. besides, i'm going to america in a few months to attend university there and become a doctor in the future. i hope you can find another woman to play in your team. good luck." you offered a small apologetic smile, making her eyes glimmer with disappointment as she watched you walk away.
a few weeks had passed and you'd just graduated. your flight to america was quickly approaching, so you were busy packing. you suddenly heard a knock at your bedroom door, which cracked open to reveal your mom.
"sweetheart, someone by the name of anri teieri is looking for you." you mom informed you, making you furrow your eyebrows.
"who now? i've never heard of that name in my life." you responded, making her shrug and she ushered you to come downstairs and figure it out.
so, you followed behind her only to be horrified to see the same lady from a few weeks back.
"you again?!" you gasped, speed walking to the door.
"ah, sorry for the unannounced vis-"
"lady! this whole stalking thing is really getting out of hand! i-i mean, how did you even get my address?! god, i feel like i'm being watched like a hawk! last warning or else i'll report you next time!" you threatened, absolutely baffled. her eyes widened, quickly holding her hands up as surrender.
"please, hear me out. i'm not stalking you! i was escorted here by your coach. i... i wanted you to reconsider!" she expressed, her face displaying desperation.
"what part of what i said to you back then don't you understand? i don't have a passion for soccer." you glared, making her face turn to a frown.
"you can't be good at something if there's no passion to drive you! and you... god, you're damn amazing! your goals, your precision; it's unmatched! y/n, please, it's not only that i want you... no, i need you on my team." she persuaded, making your sigh in annoyance.
"even if i wanted to, i can't. it's too late, i already confirmed my spot at the university and my flight is this weekend." you informed her, trying to make peace.
"that's okay! i'll have my team call your university to place you on a guaranteed waitlist, your spot will still be secured. please, just play for the recruitment matches in blue lock. i promise, if you're eliminated; then you can fall back on this. we'll even pay for your tuition cost and flight expenses." she tries to negotiate and you let out a defeated grumble.
"fucking hell, fine, fine. i'll do it." you agreed, making her eyes light up.
"yes! thank you! thank you so much, y/n." she smiled brightly, digging through her purse before pulling out a small card.
"that's the address to the blue lock facility. the mock matches will be taking place this weekend. i'll see you then, y/n." she hands you the card, making you hum.
the hell did you just get into?
---
so, luck has a weird way of working out, and it turns out that you were able to make it out of the recruitment matches. you were officially on blue lock's team.
well, that happened about four months ago. so far, you're still not sure if it was worth quitting and falling back on your safety option, which was still laid on the table by anri.
"jeez, i thought that the only time a woman would've given me a hard time was after i got married." isagi teased, making you chuckle as you laid on the indoor feild.
"hope you don't get married any time soon, your future wife is gonna have a hard time in social spaces when her husband is getting cancelled every two to five business days." you smirked, making him gasp.
"y/n! i thought we were gonna move past that." he huffed, making you laugh.
"what? about the fact that you become a slur machine when you get pissy?" you egg further, making him roll his eyes before cracking a smile.
"but seriously though, those were some killer goals you made today. especially the far distance one you did, man, it got me sweating! how'd you do it?!" his freakishly big blue eyes peered at you, making you rub the back of your neck as you tried to recall that moment.
"uh... don't know, honestly. it just felt right at that moment and my legs moved on its own to score, i saw the opening and knew it was time." you tried your best to explain in order to give him the most accurate answer possible.
"so what you're saying is... you play based on intuition?" isagi's eyes widened, but, his shock only gained a mere shrug from you.
"guess so." you replied, making him let out a dry chuckle.
"fuck, you're more goated than i anticipated." his eyes glimmered with some odd sparks of a mix of inspiration but at the same time a hint of envy.
"now you're just buttering me up, if you think i'm gonna give you the charred sides of my steak today, it's not happening." you stuck your tongue out, making him let out a dramatic sigh.
"well, it was worth the try." he joked, making you playfully jab his side.
after practice and training sessions for the day ended, everyone had dinner as per usual. you sat with pretty much whoever you felt like you wanted to be around with that day. you were good friends with majority of the blue lock members, keeping a low profile and not really interested in creating unnecessary beef.
isagi wanted to be the best striker? great.
reo? awesome.
nagi? spectacular.
rin? fantastic.
you couldn't give two flying fucks about becoming the world's best striker. you were pretty much shoved into the whole situation by anri's big (creepy) puppy eyes. your friends knew about your whole recruitment process, earning you a mix of bustles of laughter along with some of them weirdly having more admiration towards you.
in short, you had no interest in becoming the best striker. it required too much thinking, too many friendship break ups, and so on.
as long as blue lock makes it to the world cup and wins, everything's peachy because anri got what she wanted from you.
dinner was over and it was still quite early for bed. you decided to go to the shared lounge space, where a big tv was installed in the middle of the room. you were bored and thought maybe you'd watch a movie or rewatch old match; whatever the hell was more interesting than being in the four walls of your shared room with nagi, yuki and rin.
you walked into the lounge area, only to be surprised by seeing all three of your roommates present.
"so now we're having group meetings without me?" you playfully snark, making yuki chuckle.
"me and nagi had a feeling you'd use your imaginary sixth eye to sense us here." he joked, making you laugh.
"they're actually my spidey senses, get it right. you guys being together always means being up to no good." you said before squishing yourself before rin and yuki, as nagi opted out to sit on the carpeted floor in front of your legs.
"yeah, we were coming up with strategies on how demolish the U-20 team." nagi lazily added onto the conversation, making you hum.
"oh, those guys. who's even on that team anyways? i was kinda asleep when ego was talking about it." you sheepishly smiled, making rin scoff.
"seriously? this game is an important debut for blue lock, and you're out here sleeping in meetings? dumbass." rin nagged, making you roll your eyes.
"jeez, sorry mr. perfect, i got tired 'kay? now stop leaving me in the dark and tell me more information about this team." you looked at the pair of teal eyes, trying to count how many under lashes he had in the meanwhile.
"it's japan's national team that's composed of the best japanese soccer players that are under the age of twenty. one them being the biggest pests in my life, itoshi sae." rin enlightened you, and you watched a slight darkened shift in his eyes as he mentioned the foreign name to you.
"itoshi sae? he shares your last name, your older brother?" you asked mindlessly, as you thought out loud.
"what do you think, smartypants?" rin deadpanned, giving you an obvious look, making you chuckle.
"sorry, i didn't wanna assume. listen, your family trauma is yours, buddy; i'm not here to mediate or play therapist, so you can be assured i won't dig further in. but, regardless, he's an opponent. so, just like everyone else, i'm gonna try my best to make sure we win." you offered an encouraging smile.
"whatever, this game is just a stepping stone for me. i'll prove to him just how good i am and make him eat his words." he spoke through gritted teeth.
after about an hour of socializing with your roommates, it was getting late and there was early morning training the following morning as per usual. so, you told your roommates to head back without you and you'd come a bit later; so you bid them goodnight.
after being alone in the lounge, you decided to do some research on this special specimen the entire blue lock facility has been bustling about; itoshi sae.
and with each click of a new article, interview or soccer match; you were horrified and mesmerized at the same time.
how can a human being be so cruel, brash, cocky... but so fluid, sharp and agile? he's worse than a criminal.
the way he shits on japanese soccer.
the way he's convinced that the best striker has yet to be born, let alone in japan.
the way he fucking plays... it's almost arousing; making adrenaline pump through your body as blood rushes all around your blood vessels.
what is this feeling?
this new profound inspiration, ambition and drive you're feeling?
god, why did you wanna suddenly have itoshi sae kneeling in front of you on the damn feild?!
you turned off the tv and decided to call it a night. while you were walking through the hallway in the direction of your room, you see a sleepy rin walking towards you.
"rin." you call out, making him look at you with half-lidded eyes.
"huh? jeez, you still didn't sleep? whatever, i don't have time for your jokes, i gotta piss real bad." rin tried to cut the conversation short, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving.
"wait. you need to hear me, rin. i don't know if you consider me as a friend or foe, not that i care, but i want you to know that i share the same vision as you." you looked at him with determined eyes, making him cock an eyebrow.
"the hell are you talking about, y/n?" he asked, confused.
"i don't know what kind of gold your brother is hiding that people want so bad. everyone is meat riding him, but i just don’t get it. yes, he has exceptional skills. but, in my eyes, he's just another nuisance of a midfielder who likes to show off." you sprinkled in some insults, but for some reason, that seemed to bother rin a little.
"listen, i hate that prick, but don't water down his play. he played in spain’s youth team and he’s competed against national teams. he’s not just any midfielder, he’s a prodigy, whether i like to admit it or not." rin weirdly defended (?) his brother.
"so he’s got a taste that soccer exists outside of japan, big deal. he’ll be tasting my ass when i crush him during the game." you smirked, making his eyes widen.
"do you know how much weight your words need to have to make a claim like that? you're so naive. anyone who wants to crush itoshi sae has to become the world's best striker; and that's my goal." he glared.
"rin, i don't need to become the world's best striker to crush your brother; 'cause i already am." you bodly stated, not even understanding yourself and where this confidence came from. but, rin looked rather shocked before an unknowing grin tugged on his lips.
without a doubt, talent runs in the itoshi family. both rin and sae possess a strong talent for soccer. although rin knows that he hasn’t leveled with sae yet, he was still very strong. 
that was until you came along. 
you waltzed your way onto the field, as if it was your personal ballroom floor and you danced with the players. you predicted everyone’s moves, while yours remained a mystery. 
rin could still remember how you painfully defeated him in one of the selections and to rub it in his face, you selected him on your team, basically calling him your bitch in other words. 
ouch. 
people underestimated your abilities because you were a woman, but many people in this same facility didn’t even have an ounce of your skill.
 (cough igaguri cough)
"i see, so this is your ego. i'll be looking forward to your play, y/n, and then we'll see if you can live up to your words or eat them." rin darkly chuckled, making you hum.
"night night, rin." you waved at him, deciding to release him from your shackles so he could go pee.
"yeah, yeah, g'night." he half-waved back, before you both went opposite directions.
suddenly, soccer became something that now intoxicated your mind.
---
"y/n!" you heard the familiar high-pitched voice, finishing putting on your jersey shirt as you turned around.
"oh, anri." you gave her a small wave, watching her approach you.
"ready for the game? i know maybe you didn't expect to come this far, but trust me, i envisioned this for you. listen, i know my desires of having you in the blue lock project was selfish of me, but you truly are a precious gem to us." anri spoke with a gentle voice, her words very powerful and encouraging.
of course, the auburn haired woman was expecting some kind of snarky remark or maybe even your eyes rolling at her; your typical responses because you didn't care much about the blue lock project or soccer to begin with.
what she didn't expect was for you to crack a smile, making her eyes widen.
"y'know, at times, i felt like purposely failing the training stages or mock matches; just so i could get out of here through elimination. but, for some odd reason, i couldn't. failure is not a part of my nature, anri. yes, i was forced into this, but it's 'cause i'm damn good at what i do. i was brought here with no internal purpose or passion for soccer, but, things changed over night. quite literally." you decided to give her a slice of your heart to offer some of your true emotions.
"this is different, y/n." her expression and tone was nothing less than pure shock.
"i found meaning in my place here at blue lock. i want to play the kind of soccer that doesn't just make me win, but, makes my blood course through my veins in excitement. i want to feel alive when playing it. now, i found someone who just might let me have that." you grin at her, brushing your hair. anri gave you a puzzled look, trying to think of who could possibly change your heart like this.
"who?" she asked, curiosity pouring out of her eyes.
"itoshi sae." you smirk.
---
“so hungry- ow! ow! ow!” you screamed in pain, trying to kick away nagi, who was helping you stretch out your legs before the game. the match would start in about tenish minutes. you were sprawled on the ground, both of your legs being parted into a split to help your muscles stretch. 
“almost done, stop being such a hassle.” nagi smacked your calves, making you glare at him as you continued to whine and fuss from the burn traveling all over your legs. thankfully, the torture was soon over. 
“alright you dusted lumps of talent, today’s match could be life changing for all of you if victory is brought onto blue lock. get into your positions and good luck to you all.” ego spoke and the doors opened, everyone walking outside into the large stadium. 
you heard people cheering at the top of their lungs, looking around to see the majority wearing and holding merch that branded itoshi sae’s name. you snorted in disbelief, rolling your eyes. 
“ass kissers.” you mumbled to yourself before continuing to walk to your place. you waited for the other team to come out and just on cue, they walked in. you quietely observed each one of them as you familiarized yourself with their traits. 
the person whom you’ve been waiting for finally arrived onto your dance floor, u-20′s number ten, itoshi sae. he felt your intense stare on him, turning his eyes to now look right back at you. you gave him a smirk before waving your hand at him, earning a cocked eyebrow from him as he just rolled his eyes at you before looking away. 
“how rude.” you huffed to yourself and before you knew it, the game began.
you ran to the center where the ball was freely rolling and even though a bunch of other players were running like a herd of buffalos at the ball, you knew they couldn’t get it. 
“you see the ball? well, now you don’t!” you giggled as you placed your foot in front of the ball before turning your feet, making the ball rotate as you kicked it backwards. 
as the ball was now running in the opposite direction, you swiftly jumped over aiku’s feet, running to chase the ball as your feet was bumping with it. you happily hummed, your eyes still aware of your surroundings as you noticed sendou and aiku now at your sides. 
“hey, pretty lady! that wasn’t very nice of you.” you look over at aiku who was coming towards you, extending his annoying long legs to overpower your movements. 
"bite me, snake." you smirked before noticing isagi at your peripheral vision, kicking the ball right between sendou's legs to pass it to your friend.
you panted, trying to catch your breath as you watched isagi getting in position as he tried to make the direct shot, only for it to be struck down. your eyes widened as you saw the player with blonde hair and pink tips use his head to stop the goal from going in. 
you read his name on his shirt, shidou. 
“what the hell.” you furrowed your eyebrows, running towards the previous formation as shidou passed the ball to the auburn haired male. sae surpressed isagi and chigiri’s speed and then with one quick motion, the ball hit the net. 
“that fucking blonde cockroach.” you heard rin swear under his breath, sweat drizzling down the sides of his face. 
this was going to be interesting. 
the match continued on and u-20 was in the lead. your legs practically felt like jelly, looking at the score board with read 3-3. majority of the goals were made by shidou or sae on the u-20 team, they were devouring everyone and anything in their way. 
as for blue lock, the first goal was made nagi, followed by barou and then isagi. both teams were now tied and slowly the 90 minute clock was running out; as there was only 20 minutes left.
this was the last chance, within those 20 minutes, a goal will be made and that team will take home victory.
fuck, you felt like throwing up.
you were getting pissed off, mainly because of the fact that the only person holding everyone back was rin. you knew that there was some kind of drama going on between the itoshi brothers, but rin wasn’t playing in the right state of mind. 
“rin, pass!” you yelled, watching him go berserk as he had his tongue out and was drooling. rin looked at you with a clouded look before snickering. 
“out of my fucking way, dumbass.” he shoved you away, rejecting to pass the ball to you when you were at a perfect range to shoot. you saw that his main goal was to go head on head with his brother, but that was ultimately a bad idea because sae was protected by shidou as back up. 
“y/n! you okay?” you heard reo ask as he ran besides you. 
“yeah, i’m fine. but, i don’t think rin is.” you breathed out, trying to catch up to rin who was running in full spped. suddenly, in an attempt to go around shidou, he accidentally kicked his leg when the both of them tried to kick the ball. 
“fuck.” you cursed, hearing the whistle blow. 
“itoshi rin, yellow card.” 
“idiot.” you murmured under your breath as you took this as a chance to steal the ball from rin. you were now in the middle of the feild and the goal was still in a pretty far distance for you to shoot. 
suddenly, you felt an arm over your chest in an attempt to block and delay your movement. you looked over to your side and your heart jumped in your chest as you met with the striking teal orbs of the star of the show; the player you've been looking forward to play against so much that you couldn't get a wink of sleep.
itoshi sae.
“my, my! didn’t your mommy teach you not to touch a woman without her permission? you’re naughty, sae.” you teased, trying your best to keep your leg ahead of his. you knew that sae’s main skill was his sharp shooting range and that if he somehow got control over the ball right now, it’d be game over. 
you watched over his moves through his game recordings numerous amount of times to predict his play style.
shamelessly, your eyes watched how his meaty and juicy thighs flexed while he ran. you couldn't help the feeling of your stomach tightening, as having such a handsome guy all up on you made your panties twist.
“shut it, you little minx.” sae grumbled, and just as you felt his legs coming to swing faster, you used your right foot to kick the ball to the side. 
“you-” he looked at you with wide eyes, only to receive a cocky smile. 
“see ya!” you finally able to escape him as your main concern was now to get past shidou who was guarding your shooting point. 
"so we meet again, girl. blue lock's ace, a woman, who's been taking the soccer world by storm." you heard shidou cackle as he hovered side to side. you chuckled, hitting him with fast dribbles.
“yeah and you’re about to find out why.” you grinned, kicking the ball directly upwards before leaping into the air, lightly swinging your feet at a calculated angle with a gentle impact. it was enough to make the ball fly past his shoulder, and you quickly ran around the distracted male to catch up with the ball.
the hardest obstacle was down.
"shit, you're cool as fuck, girl." shidou muttered under his breath, still in disbelief from the move you just pulled to move past his block.
in the distance, sae watched you like a hawk, amazed by your game tactic. 
it almost seemed as if you weren’t human as no one in this entire universe could’ve predicted you to do that. 
not even the prodigy himself. 
there was no way in hell any player could've passed that block with shidou and sendou cornering you.
damn, you literally defied the laws of physics.
you were still at a pretty far range to shoot, but, the goal was swarming with dangerous players who were firm to not let you have that opening.
"ah, how annoying." you sighed.
of course, your moves annoyed sae as he was now lunging towards you, trying to stop you from advancing any further. the auburn haired male was pissed, no, beyond pissed as he ran besides you.
“can’t get enough of me? you get me so excited, sae!” you exclaimed, watching him frown as he struggled to predict when the ball was going to move left or right based on your footwork. 
"just what are you, woman?! i've never met a player like you!" sae angrily spoke, panting while he tried to take control over the ball. you smirked, feeling like your heart was about to combust just from being acknowledged by him.
"are you falling in love with me?" you asked with a cheeky smirk.
"fucking brat." he scoffed.
“i’ll call this goal, ‘if i score, then sae gets to fuck this hole’, ‘kay?” you taunted and then what happened next was beyond shocking. 
you were in no position to shoot and strike a goal, the range was still far and the goal was blocked. shidou was advancing and you were slowly getting cornered with sae on your side and sendou advancing towards your other side.
but, it felt right.
no, no, it is right. this was the perfect timing, the perfect position-
the perfect moment to score a goal.
if you can't find an opening on the field, look above and create your own, that's your play style.
you diagonally cut through his run, making the tip of your feet scoop the ball as you kicked it in the air. another jump and now you were in the air, as you spun and swerved your body to the left, giving the ball a powerful kick. 
your eyes watched the ball zoom past the goal keeper’s head, hitting the net as you came back down on the ground. sae blinked dumbfoundedly at you, trying to process what the hell just happened. 
the crowd roared with cheers.
you collapsed on the ground, breathing heavy as the whistle blew, time was up and blue lock scored the winning goal thanks to you. before you could even register your win, you were swooped off the ground by your teammates as they huddled while lifting you in the air, a tsunami of praises and congratulations was showered on you.
“hm, wait. i’ll be back.” you patted nagi’s shoulder to usher him to put you down, as he carefully placed you back on the ground. 
you walked over to u-20′s players who were sitting on the grassy field, faces expressing scowls and sadness from their bitter defeat. yet, you saw sae standing unbothered as shidou was blabbering to him about some random nonsense, before noticing you approaching them. 
“oh, would you look at who came to pay us a visit.” shidou sneered, giving you narrowed eyes as you shrugged. 
“i'm not interested in you, blondie.” you snapped at him, making him slightly irritated by how you spoke to him.
sae didn’t want to become involved with this little feud you had going on with shidou, silently watching you both fuss and fight over today’s match. he had to admit, watching you play had riled him up. 
both sexually and mentally. 
the announcers were urgently instructing all players to evacuate the field as the game has been over since fifteen minutes ago. you heard your team members call your name, so you decided not to waste more time. 
"before i forget to keep my promise that i made with rin.” you remembered, your lips curling upwards cheekily. you placed your index and middle finger on sae’s lips as if you were hushing him, before bringing those two fingers to tap your butt cheek. 
“choo~” you smooched the air, watching sae’s jaw drop. shidou could slowly feel his blood boil and swore that if you weren’t a woman, then he would've long broke out into a fist fight with you. 
"bye-bye." you waved at sae before running the opposite direction to where your friends were standing. 
---
you entered the backstage of the stadium for only player entry. you were excited to finally get out of your uniform and take a cold shower after such an intense game. curious eyes were scanning for blue lock's locker room as you hummed a little tune, until someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into some room. 
“what the f-” you yelped, only to have your words be muffled as the person clamped their hand over your mouth. you looked up and saw that it was sae, looking down at you with sharp teal eyes. 
“well, well, well. just the person i've been waiting for.” he snarked, his voice sending chills down your spine. you realized that you were in u-20's locker room with him. your hands quickly came up to peel his hand off of your mouth. 
“the hell is wrong with you? someone might come inside and get the wrong idea.” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to turn your heels and leave the bathroom. however, with one swift motion, you were now pinned against the door as sae caged you between his arms. 
"you've been annoying the shit out of me ever since i've known about your existence. i've watched the recorded tapes of your mock games at blue lock and though the other players never stood out to me... you were always the odd one out. the way you'd play on the field like you had no fucking clue the hell you were doing but at the same time; it felt like you outsmarted everyone. i can't believe i fell into that trap today even after analyzing you to the core." he bitterly spat out, making you look at him with bored eyes.
"listen, mr. prodigy, i get it that this might be your first loss; but taking it out on me won't change the scores." you nonchalantly replied, somehow making his skin burn in anger even more.
"you’ve got some real talent, I’m not gonna deny that. but your little hat-tricks are a bit immature, aren’t they?” he questioned, making you shrug.
"as long as my team's winning, i don't care." you answered, making him chuckle, the corner of his lips lifting up slightly at your bold proclamation.
"hah! that’s a dangerous mindset. arrogance isn’t always a good look for a player. but i gotta admit, it fits you.” sae sneered, a smirk etched on his lips.
"confidence not arrogance, don't get it twisted." you corrected him, shooting a glare at him.
“oh, really? confidence, hm? or maybe you’re just in denial about being a little arrogant?” he continued to taunt you, making you darkly chuckle.
"go back to school and learn the difference, sae. i can tell you're lacking up here since you went to spain so early. poor you." you pouted, jabbing at his temple.
"yeah? let's talk about you, miss. yale. you wanted to become a doctor, no? only to end up as ego's puppet for blue lock. poor you." sae mocked your words, his insult made your jaw lock.
"how the fuck do you know that?" you said through gritted teeth, his face glimmering with amusement.
"i have a good sense of every player's background to know how much of a pain in my ass they're gonna be during a game." he cockily remarked, making you roll your eyes.
"oh please, you're like the soccer princess, always getting his way. you stupid dumb brat, always wanting stuff and getting it 'cause you're a lump of talent who went international as a youth. you whisked away shidou from our team, who's gonna be your next BL victim?" you scoffed, shoving him off of you to place some distance between you two.
"excuse me? that’s a bit rich coming from you. i do have talent, yes, but i’ve worked hard for it. you don’t know what i had to go through to get where i am now, so don’t act like you know everything about me." sae’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of annoyance at your harsh words.
"uh-huh. so, you cried to your management that you wouldn't play in u-20 against BL unless you could pick whichever BL player you want to join you? how lame. you think you're the best?" you asked, voice laced with irritation from how much he was pissing you off.
"i didn’t ‘cry to my management’, they just know what i have to offer. and yes, i do think i’m the best. i’ve proven it on the field time after time.” he stepped closer to you, now hovering above you with his annoyingly tall height.
damn the itoshi brothers for inheriting such good genes.
"i heard it with my own ears. when ego and your managers were having that meeting, i happened to pass by the conference room. you're quite the brat. aren't you supposed to be the older itoshi?" you poked fun at him, giggling a little at the end.
"you… you eavesdropped on the meeting? and you’re still throwing a fit? how immature can you be? it was a strategic decision and you know it. picking the right players to my advantage is part of the game. you’re just mad that i chose shidou.” sae scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"mad? hah! don't make me laugh. you could have the pink tip blonde freak for all i care! listen, itoshi, i could win with or without shidou being on my team, got it? i'm damn fucking good at what i do, 'cause if i wasn't, then my ass would've been halfway across the globe by now. i'm the muse to this whole orchestra out of all you mediocre artists. strategic decision? seems more like a cry for help. what are you? five? picking and trading toys? please, give me a break. i'd rather quit soccer than have you make me your bitch." you angrily spewed at him, making his eyes narrow at your words.
sae is stunned into silence for a moment, taken aback by your fierce and fiery declaration. he takes a moment to process your words, before responding with a sharp edge to his voice.
"you got an awfully talkative mouth, huh? ever thought of putting that mouth to some good use than spewing all this bullshit?" he harshly squished your cheeks together with his hand, making you wince a little.
"sorry that i can't match your brattiness, it's not in my nature to act like a lukewarm spoiled brat." your words were slightly muffled, but it rang clear in his ears, especially the familiar word you picked up most likely from his younger brother.
"lukewarm, hm? did my shit of a little brother teach you that? you seem to be close to him, having the nerve to approach me after the game and pull that little stunt of yours to keep the so-called promise you made to him. what kinda promise? that you'd make me kiss your ass?" sae cocked an eyebrow, peering down at you as you couldn't help but count his under lashes.
"it was just a stupid joke, you don't have to act like i shoved the damn soccer ball up your ass." you rolled your eyes, making him let out a dry chuckle.
"nah, it's not that. it's just... you seem to be a woman of your words; but you're forgetting the promise you made to me." he smirked at you, his eyes darkening with lust.
"what?" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion momentarily.
you tried to recall what you even said to him. when you’re on the field, you tend to spew out random shit from your mind and mouth, not thinking twice about it. 
“you scored the winning goal, didn’t you?” sae helped you remember, his hands coming down to wrap around your waist before he pressed himself on you. 
“i’ll call this goal ‘if i score, then sae gets to fuck this hole’, ‘kay?”
your words rang in your mind loud and clear, your eyes widening in shock as you realized what you’ve done. sae noticed you expression, his smirk widening as he knew that you were all bark and no bite. 
but, that’s what made you seem more alluring to him. 
“whimping out, sweetheart?” he said, a fake pout forming on his lips. what he didn’t expect is your arms wrapping around his neck before harshly pulling him towards your face. you crashed your lips on him, roughly kissing the soft-pillow like flesh. 
“you said it, i’m a woman of my words, sae. besides, not everyone gets the chance to fuck the world’s best striker, y'know. so, you’re welcome.” you grinned against his lips before playfully biting down on his lower lip. 
"you vixen." he whispered against your lips, warm breath fanning over yours before he locked you in another searing kiss. your fingers weaved through his soft auburn hair, following the rhythm of his lips. sae's hand was still cupping your jaw, keeping you in place as he tilted his face slightly to the side, the new angle allowing him to kiss you deeper.
you felt his thigh intrude between your legs, spreading you open as he rubbed his muscular quad against your clothed pussy. the small friction alone was providing enough stimulation to your throbbing clit that made you gasp a small moan; making him smirk against your lips before cheekily using the provided entrance to slip his tongue inside your mouth.
you felt the wet muscle gently poking yours occasionally before slowly wrapping around your tongue. the wet sounds of your mixed salivas and mingling tongues followed by the smooch noise echoed throughout the empty locker room; making your pussy drip with arousal.
your head was spinning, both from sae's intoxicating cologne along with the heated kiss. your face was flushed and your brain was practically turned into mush.
you sucked on his bottom lip before giving it a gentle nibble. the both of you soon pulled away, breathing heavy from the lack of oxygen due to the breath-taking makeout session you just had; a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips.
fuck, he looked so sexy like this.
sae's hair was dishevealed, cheeks tinted with a slight pink, teal eyes half-liddedly staring at yours like a sly siren and his lips plump from the intense kissing.
he leaned forwards, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your jawline before moving down to your neck. your mouth was slightly agape, soft whimpers ocassionally slipping out of your lips as you felt him kiss and lick the soft flesh of your neck. he gently bit down before suckling the area, making your breath hitch.
"h-hey! you're gonna leave a mark." you stuttered, but sae couldn't find it in him to care. in fact, the thought of him marking you up everywhere sent blood straight to his cock; making him impossibly even harder than he already was.
"so? i don't see the problem. what if i want all the other players to know i claimed you as mine?" he spoke in a low tone, almost as soft and alluring as a whisper. you could feel him rub the bridge of his nose against your neck; sending goosebumps all over your body.
"i don't belong to anyone." you meekly responded, though you tried to sound as stern as possible; obviously failing to do so. sae let out a dry chuckle, finding your answer a bit amusing.
"oh really? i'm hurt. you pulled out so many cool tricks from your sleeve during the game, flirted with me on the field, saying lewd things to me before scoring, promised my little brother to have me kiss your ass... all of that just for me to notice you, no?" he teased, his hands going south as he traced the outline of your hips before harshly pushing them down, making you grind against his thigh.
"f-fuck." you moaned, feeling yourself getting wetter by his actions. however, sae wasn't complaining, seeing how your facial expressions were twisting with pleasure made his mind fog up with lust.
"bet you were thinking about this while playing on the field. imagining all sort of naughty things you'd want me to do to you, hm? god, never would've expected blue lock's ace to be... such a slut." he snickered, his hands moving behinds to give your ass a firm squeeze followed by a harsh spank; making you yelp.
"i wasn't!" you tried to defend yourself, finding a convincing voice by shooing away your horny thoughts.
"you sure about that, princess?" sae grins, his hand cupping your clothed pussy before using his slender fingers to rub against your slit. he could feel your wetness, making him scoff.
"you're dripping and still have the nerve to lie to my face? there's two things i hate in this world. number one is losing and the second thing is liars; two things which you already violated. i should punish you, no?" he darkly chuckled, before pulling you back into a mind-blowing kiss.
"wha.." you tried to comprehend what his words meant, but it seemed that he preferred to show you.
"strip." sae mumbled under his breath, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. you swallowed harshly, trying to clear your head and maybe push him away.
you knew this was wrong!
it was one thing teasing and riling each other up on the field, but fucking your enemy? what would your team members think if they ever found out?
holy shit, what would rin think?!
but, fuck, it felt so right.
you couldn't deny the fact that sae made you feel so hot and bothered, both on and off the field. and the way he was towering over you with his staggering height and angelic yet demanding voice.
you were under his spell; unable to resist anymore... not that you were in the first place.
you grabbed the hem of your jersey before peeling it off of your body, a small sheen of sweat covering your body made your skin glisten under the dim lights of the air-conditioned locker room. you threw your shirt to the side before sliding off your shorts; the last article of uniform meeting the same fate as your jersey on the floor.
you now stood exposed in your half-naked glory; in a pair of baby blue laced panties with a matching bra to go with it. sae's eyes followed your movements with striking anticipation, trained on your body as he shamelessly drank in the sight of your beauty.
you were perfect in every shape and form.
your body was lean and fit, lacking muscle mass unlike other players; but you were toned. his eyes focused on how your tits sat so prettily within the cups of your bra, making his hands itch to hold them instead. his eyes trailed down, being able to see your beautiful plump round ass even from the side; he wanted to touch the soft bare flesh so bad.
after all, it was his biggest fetish.
sae took slow strides towards you, predatory eyes never leaving your body as he hovered above you. he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes while his other hand danced along your spine; pulling you close to him.
you smelled so feminine and sweet; like a subtle peach scent.
"you have no idea what you do to me and it's driving me insane because i wanna ruin you." he confessed, making you give him a sly smirk.
"then what's stopping you?" you boldly replied, and it seemed as if the gears in his brain stopped working.
"damn right." without another word, he grabbed the back of your thighs and swiftly lifted you up in his arms. you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms lacing around his neck as you kissed the side of his neck and peppered his face with soft kisses. he chuckled, giving your ass a light spank while walking over to the bench, sitting down while you straddled his lap.
you noticed he was still fully clothed, making you pout. he cocked an eyebrow in confusion at your expression.
"why am i the only one naked? take off your clothes too." you huffed out, making him laugh.
"how rude of me. why don't you take the honors of stripping me then, princess." he rubbed the palm of his hand along your sides, making a shiver run down your spine.
you nod obediently, you hand reaching down with fingers hooking under the hem of his jersey. you lifted the article of clothing above his head, revealing more and more of his extremely toned and muscular body with each heightened inch of the fabric. you threw away the shirt to the side, eager hands now touching the soft flesh of his bare chest. your eyes shamelessly wandered, noticing how defined his abs were, his pecs looked so juicy and plump, broad shoulders and his biceps were so fucking thick it made you wonder how it'd feel for them to lock you in a headlock.
you scooted off his lap, standing up before grabbing his wrist to pull him off the bench and follow your steps. you grabbed the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down; now leaving him in his calvin klein boxers; your eyes going down and noticing the prominent bulge inbetween his thick muscular thighs.
fuck, you just knew he was long and thick from how big the bulge was.
your mouth was salivating, wanting... no, needing a taste of him. you were about to drop down to your knees, only to be halted by sae as he grabbed your hands.
"not yet. bad girls don't deserve my cock in their mouth without paying for their punishment first." sae grinned, pulling you back on the bench as he sat down.
"bend over." he blurted, patting his thigh. your eyes widened, wondering just what was up his sleeve.
you gulped, crawling over his lap as you used the palm of your hands to support you, as you were now bent over his thighs. his palm gently caressed the dome of your ass, you shuddered as you felt his feather-like touches.
"what a beautiful ass you have, darling." he lewdly complimented, making your knees weak as your panties dampened from his words.
"t-thanks.." you squealed when you felt a tight slap on your cheek, making you jolt. sae smirked at your reaction, squeezing the abused flesh afterwards.
"i knew you were gonna be an interesting player, just by the shape of this pretty little ass of yours." sae spoke in a seductive tone, making you clear your throat as you looked back at him.
"seems more like an excuse for you to be a pervert." you snarked, earning another harsh spank on your ass cheek; making you wince.
"careful with that mouth of yours, princess. pervert or not, yours is hard to miss when you're flaunting it to me." he scoffed, groping the supple fat in his palms.
"now, let's see how much you really know about me." sae smirks before leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your ass; making you gasp at the soft gesture.
"huh?" you breathed out.
"what's the number on my jersey?" he suddenly questioned, making you give him a puzzled look.
"10." you responded, making him smile.
"good, that's exactly how many times i'm gonna spank this sweet ass of yours. so, better keep count in case i accidentally miscount." sae sadistically smirked at you, playfully biting your ass cheek before giving it a wet smooch; making you tremble and his ministrations didn't even start.
you were facing away from him, heart pounding in your chest and then came the first impact.
smack!
it was a tight spank, making your body jolt as the pain spread into a sadistic pleasure across your body.
"one." you muttered, swallowing down a moan.
"keep hiding your moans and i'll double it." he threatened, making your eyes widen as you shook your head.
then came the second slap, making your thighs clench as the impact sent shock-waves right between your legs. you whimpered in pain and pleasure, closing your eyes as your knees shook beneath you. god, you were aching for him to touch you, even if it meant this.
"t-two." you breathed out.
"good." sae teasingly praised, rubbing his palm on the now warm surface of your ass cheek, making you shake.
but, it didn't last long until the third spank came down on you.
then the fourth... fifth... sixth... seventh... eighth... ninth...
each slap getting slightly louder and harder, making you moan like a bitch in heat as your skin tingled from the harsh impact. you were heaving, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to muster the strength to keep yourself lifted and not collapse on his thighs.
"last one, gotta make it count, right?" you could feel him sadistically smirk, patting the bruised flesh.
sae slapped your ass once more, making you gasp as you felt him squeeze the supple fat of your cheek right afterwards before giving it a few gentle spanks all around; making you cry out.
"ten!" you cried, looking back at him with a dazed look, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.
sae took a moment to drink in the sight in front of him. your back arched, ass in his face as the bruised red-plump flesh was warm against the palm of his hand, your begging face and disheaveled state; it made him wanna toy around with you even more.
"what a good girl you are, y/n." he peppered feather like kisses on your ass, making you bite your lips as you tried to contain yourself.
"please.. please, stop teasing. i-i can't anymore." you embarrassingly begged him, making him grin.
"you can't? how unfortunate. i guess we should stop then." sae suddenly proclaimed, shrugging as he pulled you up to sit on the bench, the cold material of the hard wood making contact with your warm spanked ass made you wince as it stung. but, you were quick to wrap your hand around his bicep, stopping him.
"n-no! that's not what i meant." you licked your lips, crawling back on his lap as you kissed his jaw.
"then tell me what you want, princess." he whispered in your ear, playfully biting your earlobe, sending chills all over your body.
"touch me... i want you to touch me, sae. i need you so bad." you cupped his face, looking into his glimmering teal eyes. it was a bad habit, but you couldn't help but count his damn under lashes.
"yeah? want me to play with that naughty pussy of yours, hm? bet she's dripping for me." he lewdly spoke, making you nod as your brain was no longer in your head but your pussy.
"m-mhm, so wet for you, sae. need you to touch it, pretty please?" you kissed his neck, before giving it a gentle bite followed by a teasing kitten lick.
"okay, since you asked so nicely, cariño." sae gave you a boyish smile, the spanish term of endearment slipping off his tongue so seductively.
he placed his hands on the sides of your waist, gently turning you around so that your back was against his chest. sae leaned down, kissing down your neck till he reached your collarbone, licking your skin before biting down gently.
you gasped, your hand going behind his head to find purchase in his hair. his hands came up, roughly pushing the cups of your bra down, making your tits spill out. his eyes widened, mouth salivating at the site of your perky nipples swelling from being neglected.
"you're driving me insane." sae cursed under his breath, his hands now cupping your tits as he gave them both a gentle squeeze. you moaned from the sudden fondling, breathing becoming irregular.
he rolled your buds between his index and thumb, giving them both a slight pinch; making you swallow hard. you squirmed in his hold, getting a bit antsy.
"patience." he warned, making you whine.
sae's slender fingers moved down, ghosting along your hips before hooking under the waistband of your panties. with one swift motion, he pulled the laced fabric down your legs, lightly throwing them to the side.
your breath hitched at the sudden exposure, cold air hitting you right between your legs, making you automatically clench your thighs together. however, your actions displeased the auburn haired male, making him slap your thigh.
"you want me to touch you or no? spead your legs, girl." sae commanded, making you shyly widen the gap, but not fast enough as his patience was wearing thin.
he opened his legs a little wider, forcing your own to follow in suit as your legs were drapped over his. a satisfied smirk ghosted on his lips as he peered down.
"spread your lips open, cariño, let me see her." sae took your hand, guiding it to your wet cunt.
you followed his order, using your index and middle finger to spread your pussy open, making him shamelessly look at the mess between your legs. your wetness was coating your slit, webbing on your sopping folds as he could see your swollen clit peaking out.
"hmm... beautiful, such a pretty pussy. give her a little spank." he kissed the side of your head, your eyes widening at his request.
"huh?" you stammered, making him glare at you.
"go on, spank her. 'cause if i do it, then it won't stop at one." sae threatened, making you swallow the lump in your throat. your hand shakily hovered above your dripping cunt before giving it a wet slap, making you jolt from the impact, a moan escaping your throat.
"another one." he egged further, and you followed.
"ngh, sae." you slurred out his name, leaning against his chest as your heart raced.
his hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side to give him access to your lips. sae crashed his lips onto yours, knocking the wind from your lungs. his free hand trailed downwards, grazing against your hand that was inbetween your thighs.
sae replaced your fingers with his, the pad of his index finger gently caressing your clit. you moaned in his mouth, feeling his finger run up and down your wet slit. he began to rub your clit at a leisurely pace, making your eyes roll back from the stimulation.
he was so good at multitasking, ensuring that his lips continued to mold onto yours; tongues dancing in a fierce battle. he sucked and licked your lips, not giving you time to breathe.
without warning, you felt the tip of his finger brushing against your hole. you gasped, feeling it protrude in the tight opening.
"s-sae!" you moaned out his name, feeling him thrust his finger in, your warm wet walls clamping down on his digit.
"shit, you're so tight. how you gonna fit the real deal, princess?" he chuckled, thrusting his finger back and forth to loosen you up before adding a second one.
you didn't really have a long history of sexual partners, you weren't a virgin, but your experience in sex was still pretty lowly average. of course, you'd masturbate and get yourself off.
but, you never really had the chance to do it after entering blue lock because privacy was very limited when you're sharing rooms and bathrooms with other players.
sae scissored his fingers in and out, your slippery walls making it a little easier for him to glide his digits inside. the room was filled with the wet sounds of him fucking his fingers into your hole; your legs trembling and you breathed heavily while moaning his name.
"sae! f-fuck, oh my god... hnghh-" you felt his pace increase, his free hand massaging your tits, pinching the neglected pebble.
the whole scene looked like something straight out of a porno.
you're spread out on his lap, his hand inbetween your thighs as three of his fingers were working their way fucking in and out of your messy whole, your juices leaking out onto the bench, tits splayed out while being fondled with his hand; while his lips ocassionally pulled you into sloppy kisses.
"w-wait! fuck, it's too much!" you cried out, your hand shooting down to grab at his wrist, but the pressure you applied was nothing compared to his strength.
"you can take it. come on, cariño, make a mess for me." sae encouraged, keeping the brutal pace of his fingers as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. you felt the tightening sensation in your core, face heating up as your eyes shut tight; knees growing week as you cried out in pleasure.
what both you and sae didn't expect was that you squirted everywhere.
"there we go." he praised, slowly thrusting his digits in and out now, his hand drenched in your juices which were now dripping down your thighs and onto the bench.
"god damn..." you mumbled under your breath, trying to calm down from the high. you were still dazed out, feeling the loss of contact as he pulled his finger out; wet and webbed with your cum as you looked up at him.
sae gave you a sly smirk, bringing his cum covered fingers to his lips before pushing them in his mouth, sucking your juices off. your eyes widened at his actions.
"so sweet." he commented, watching your eyes cloud with lust.
"have a taste, princess." sae's fingers cupped your wet cunt, running his fingers against your slit to get them wet again, making you wimper as he grazed against your sensitive clit. he brought his hand up to your lips, watching you open your mouth as he shoved his fingers in, pressing his digits down on your tongue while you suckled them; tasting yourself.
"you're so cute when your mouth isn't yapping nonstop. i knew we could put that mouth to some better use." he snickered from above you, making you roll your eyes and you playfully bit down on his fingers.
"heh, as expected... always so feisty." he grinned, leaning down to press a soft yet teasing kiss on your lips. you smirked into the kiss, a cheeky finger going down to hook under the waistband of his boxers, slinging it against his stomach; earning a groan from his lips.
"off." you blurted out, making him chuckle.
"eager are we?" he taunted, watching you stand up and wait for him to slip out of his boxers.
once he did, god, you weren't expecting any less.
you oggled at the sight, he was fucking hung to say the least; standing at least a good eight inches. his cock was long and thick, balls hanging heavy and his blush colored tip oozed with beads of precum. your mouth watered and without any hesitation, you dropped to your knees.
your hand was barely able to wrap around his girth, holding onto his hard cock firmly. you saw his jaw clench, shuddering under your touch as you began to slide your hands up and down his shaft. you thumbed at leaky tip, spreading the oozing precum before bringing your thumb up to your lips, licking it while looking up at the gorgeous man before you.
"fuckin' tease." sae grumbled, his hand pushing away the loose strands of hair cascading on your face, tucking it behind your ear to get a good look at your pretty face. he unclasped your bra before throwing it over to the side, hating how it was getting in the way.
a single vein ran up the underside of his cock, your tongue tracing its outline before wrapping your lips around the tip of his dick. your tongue circled around the sensitive flesh before shoving more of his length down your throat. a guttural moan escaped his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled your head closer.
"fuckkkk... just like that, pretty girl." he groaned out, looking down at you bobbing up and down his hard cock. of course, he was so big that you couldn't fit all of it in your mouth. so, whatever was left behind, you made sure to have your hand do the pleasing.
sae felt like his dick was gonna burst any moment, never feeling this kind of intense pleasure before; and he's had his fair share of experience with women.
but you? no, you were different.
you knew how to push his buttons, how to rile him up, how to toy with him... fuck, you knew him.
the way you twisted your hands along the base of his shaft, fondling with his balls ocassionally, while your mouth was doing wonders. the way your wet muscle suckled and licked his tip, your throat tightening as you swallowed his dick; it drove him to the edge.
"god, you're so perfect. so good, s-shit, i'm gonna cum." sae moaned, grabbing the sides of your head as he began to thrust his hips forwards, throat fucking you. your eyes widened, grabbing onto his thighs as you tried to match his rhythm, gagging on his length as tears welled in your eyes.
"fuck, fuck, fuck! take it, shit, take it all." he breathed heavily, pushing your mouth as far as you could take him, holding you there as his cock twitched in your mouth; sticky white ropes of cum painting your throat.
you swallowed as much as you could, releasing his cock with a lewd pop, but he wasn't done cumming.
fuck, he cums so much.
sae jerked his cock on top of your face, the warm liquid coating your cheeks as you closed your eyes, some of it dripping down to the valley between your tits.
you opened your eyes with a fucked out expression, lazily smirking as you scooped some of his cum from your tits before sucking it off your finger. sae watched you with his mouth slightly open, his slightly limp cock now hardening again.
"god, you dirty fuckin' girl." he lowly chuckled, using his thumb to smear his cum on your cheek before scooping some and placing his thumb on your tongue.
"yummy." you giggled, licking his thumb.
"c'mere." sae pulled you up, tapping the underside of your thigh to usher you to jump. you followed, feeling his arms hooking under your thighs to securely hold you; your legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck.
you felt his dick sliding between your folds, making you whimper as he walked further inside the locker room towards where the showers were. he opened one of the stalls, stepping in before locking the door behind him.
sae turned on the water, the warm water running down both of your bodies. his hands came up to cup your face, slowly washing away your cum-stained face as his fingers gently rubbed against your skin.
"you're so pretty, princess. even when you're covered in my cum." sae smirked, making you chuckle.
"yeah?" you smiled, a soft blush creeping up to your cheeks. he hummed in response, leaning down to press soft kisses on the wet skin of your tits, before popping one of them in his mouth.
"sae.." you softly breathed out, pulling him closer as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, suckling gently while cupping your ass.
"okay, no more of these games. i need you, y/n." he confessed, releasing your nipple from his mouth before pinning you on the wall. sae lifted one of your thighs, taking a hold of his cock as he began to rub the tip of it along your slit.
"fuckkk.." you cursed, the delicious feeling on his tip brushing against your clit provided you with so much pleasurable stimulation. despite the warm water, sae could feel your slick coating his cock with every push and grind of his meaty cock between your glistening folds.
the tip of his dick poked at your entrance, making your breath hitch. sae began to slowly push the tip in, making you wince in pain as he released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.
"g-god, you gotta relax, cariño. you're so damn tight." sae groaned, gently thrusting his tip in and out of your hole. you moaned against the flesh of his neck, pleasure pumping in your veins. suddenly, he pulled out completely before with one swift and hard thurst; ramming in his whole length, making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure.
"shhh... it's okay, pretty girl. look at you taking me so well, how slutty." he reassured you in the most lewd way possible, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he began to quicken the pace of his thrusts. you could feel his cock swelling with blood inside your velvety slick walls, the single vein deliciously rubbing your insides.
"nghh, sae! f-faster, please." you begged, your mind clouded in a fucked out haze as you couldn't even form coherent sentences. however, sae was equally as consumed in pleasure as you, giving into your requests as his grip on you was firm, fucking into you at a brutal speed.
the room was filled by gasping breaths, the wet slapping noises of skin going pap! pap! pap! and of course the combined harmonization of you two horny fucks moaning.
suddenly, the locker room door flung open, followed by the noisy chatter of his teammates.
your eyes widened as you looked at sae, who had stopped his movement and had an almost copy-paste expression as you.
"huh? the shower is still going." aiku took note as footsteps drew closer to the showers.
red alarms went off in both of your heads as sae quickly lifted you in his arms, trying to erase the evidence of having another person in the stall with him.
"who's in there?" sendo asked, making sae roll his eyes.
"it's me, you half-witted monkey." sae calmly replied, rolling his eyes when he heard aiku cackle at his comment.
"no wonder why we missed you, little genius." aiku teased, making sae huff out in annoyance.
you were praying to god that they left soon because you were still quite literally impaled on sae's hard cock, clinging onto him for dear life so that your legs aren't spotted beneath the stall.
"you think you're so high and mighty, huh? mr. prodigy. but, just so you know, i've been a long-term player on this team and i've devised many plans with aiku! so have some respect." sendo snickered, his voice echoing in the locker room.
you felt sae shift, his cock rubbing against your walls from the movement making you bite down on your lower lip to contain the moan that was itching to leave your throat. he noticed, an evil smirk tugging at his lips.
"yeah? and what good was brought during today's game under your useless leadership?" sae taunted, now rocking his hips back and forth, lightly swinging you forwards as your eyes widened at his movements.
the tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot, making your eyes screw shut as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.
"what did you say to me, you freak?! the scores of today's game was out of our control! nobody could've predicted that weird girl's movements." sendo complained, anger projecting towards you.
"blaming your incompetence on someone else's skills is not a good look, captain's ass-kisser. maybe you should look at your own faults before dragging person b." he defended your name, continuing to thrust in you slow but hard, making you bite down on his shoulder as your nails dug in his back.
sae let out a low breathy moan, which was muffled under the sound of the pouring shower; only allowing you to hear it by your ear.
"hey, hey, stop. no more fighting, guys. what's done is done, we can't change the scores. that girl has some powerful talent, no one can deny it; and it must be true if the prodigy himself admits it. anyways, we're gonna be on the bus, so finish your shower soon." aiku mediated and soon the both of them left as their footsteps disappeared; the locker room door slamming shut.
you lifted your head and faced the older itoshi, a glare shooting at him. however, he didn't seem to be bothered as he gave you a small grin.
"you think this is funny?! your team members were literally on the other side of this stall door, sae! we could've gotten caught." you nagged, making him roll his eyes.
"relax, they didn't see anything. now, let's continue where we left off." he settled you down, his dick slipping out of you as he turned you around. your tits were now pressed against the wall, his flushes body pressed against your back as you felt him grind his cock against your ass, a cheeky hand coming down to grope the supple fat before giving it a small slap.
"p-put it in." you whined, still a bit pissed off from getting cockblocked by his stupid team members.
sae chuckled at your impatience, but decided to not tease you on it. in one fluid motion, he thrusted his cock inside your wet hole.
"hnghh.. sae.." you moaned, feeling him fondling with your tits while pressing feather light kisses on the expanse of your shoulder. his thrusts were much more sharper and faster than before as he grew desperate to chase that feeling before you both got walked-in on.
your cunt was wet and dripping onto his shaft, the sheer length of his thick cock was gliding smoothly in and out of your warm walls. sae could feel you clamp down on him, hugging his dick as he continued to fuck you at a brutal pace.
"fuckkk, feels so good." he moaned next to your ear, his hand coming up to cup your face and tilt it back, leaning down to pull you into a sloppy kiss full of tongue and the clash of teeth.
his tip grazed your g-spot, making your knees tremble as you cried out in pleasure. your core tightened, feeling his cock twitching in your pussy, indicating that he was close.
"shit, gonna cum... you want that? want me to fill you up? stuff you to the brim and make you my bitch?" sae groaned, pressing ocassional kisses on the sides of your jaw.
"yes! yes! fuck, please, make me your bitch. cum inside of me!" you begged, face contorting in pleasure as you began to see white, eyes screwed shut as you panted.
you were so close, feeling like you were gonna burst. sae's free hand came down, rubbing your clit to add onto the stimulation, making you shake.
"cum for me, cariño." he whispered as he continued to fuck into you, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing throughout the showers. a guttural moan ripped out of your throat as you creamed all over his cock, drenching his shaft in your fluids before feeling him momentarily speed up his thrusts; sending you into overstimulation. a ring of white cream forming at the base of his dick.
"s-sae! too much, oh my-" you cried out, before feeling his warm and sticky cum coating your walls, fucking it deep inside you. the sensation alone was enough to make chills run down your spine. sae held you close, his grip on your firm and tight as he held you in place, sloppily and lazily shoving his cum deeper into your wet cunt.
"fuck... god damn, you're something." he panted, swallowing hard before pulling you into a soft kiss.
yeah, scoring that goal was definitely worth it.
---
after you both cleaned up and finished actually showering, you realized that all your shit was in the locker room designated for blue lock. you sighed in annoyance as you stepped out of the stall, body wrapped in a towel as sae was still naked with only a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.
"i'm so screwed. i don't even have my clothes to wear back outside." you grumbled, making him look in your direction.
"blue lock's locker room is right next door, just run there." sae suggested, making you roll your eyes.
"wow, thank you so much, genius. there's like cameras everywhere in the halls and my team members might still be there." you rolled your eyes, hearing him chuckle.
"yeah, then i guess you are screwed." he smirked, making you glare at him.
"and who's fault is that?"
"not mine."
"you pulled me in here and actually screwed me. now i'm double screwed, you horny fuck!"
"and? don't say you didn't want it as bad as i did."
"well at least i have self-control."
"right, says the one who was slobbing on my dick."
"sae!"
your face was now covered in a blush from his crude words, watching him dry his body before reaching for his clothes. you took this as an opportunity to slap his ass.
spank!
"did you just-" his jaw dropped, looking at you with wide eyes as you stood there giggling.
"serves you right." you stuck out your tongue and you saw his eyes darken as an evil smirk tugged on his lips.
"oh, so you wanna play like that, huh? seems like ten wasn't enough for you? c'mere." he began to walk closer to you, making your heart drop as you quickly clutched onto your towel and ran as fast as you could out of the locker room; faintly hearing his chuckle echoing behind you.
"fucking psycho." you breathed out in slight fear, the door slamming behind you as you walked towards blue lock's locker room. that was until-
"oh, y/n! what are you doing out here?" anri's voice rang clear in your head as she stepped out of blue lock's locker room. you began to panic, what the hell were you supposed to say?!
"o-oh, anri! what are you doing here?" you nervously laughed, making her cock an eyebrow.
"i was doing a final check and realized everyone else is on the bus except you. mind telling me what's going on?" she pointed her pen at your clearly naked form.
"o-oh, yeah, uhm. our locker room was full 'cause the guys were showering, so i decided to use u-20's since their team started loading their buses first and it was empty." you explained and just because god's timing had to be so precise; sae fucking walked out.
he noticed you getting interrogated, thinning his lips to prevent himself from laughing his ass of at you.
you noticed him from the corner of your vision, glaring at him as he snorted. anri saw him, the both of them doing a mutual bow before he left, looking back you with a smirk.
that fucking piece of sh-
"y/n?" anri called out again.
"h-huh?" you refocused yourself on her.
"then why are you still naked?" she asked.
"ah, right, i forgot to take my clothes with me." you tried to sound as convincing as possible.
"uh-huh. and i suppose those marks are from the game?" she smirked, pointing her pen at your chest and neck, heat rushing to your face.
"a-anri, i can explain! it's not what you think, i promise." you horribly lied, making her chuckle.
"right... anyways, go get changed and meet us on the bus. by the way, that was an amazing goal. blue lock couldn't have won without you. so, yeah, you deserved to treat yourself." anri winked at you, making you internally scream in embarrassment.
she was your manager for fucks sake!
"ahahah, right... i'm gonna go get dressed. see you in a bit." you quickly excused yourself to get dress.
fuck you, sae itoshi.
literally.
---
after returning back to the blue lock facility, you were drained both from the game earlier and your little session with the soccer prodigy. all the players were called in the conference hall as ego gave his motivational speeches along with announcing the international teams everyone will be assigned to.
"oh, shit. bastard munchen? that's in germany, no? pretty cool, isagi." you commented, making him chuckle.
"yeah, i'm so excited! noel noa is on that team, he's my favorite." isagi eagerly replied, making you smile.
you watched your name appear on the screen and right below you was bachira.
"oh, we're gonna be together, y/n! fc barcha in spain." bachira exclaimed as he high-fived you, happy to have a close friend go with him.
"spain? oh shit..." you gulped, realizing that you'll be seeing more than just one familiar face there.
meanwhile...
"sae! sit down, have some refreshments." sae's manager smiled, his voice dripping with money hunger as the auburn hair male rolled his eyes.
"i literally just got off my flight, i couldn't even take a fucking piss yet." he grumbled, sitting on the couch with his legs crossed. the poor auburn haired male was tired and it didn't help that he had to sit inbetween the most annoying fucking people ever to exist: sendo and aiku.
unfortunately, while you both were too busy in hornyland, it completely slipped out of both his and your mind that both his clothes and your clothes were scattered on the floor.
so, in short, yeah; they both knew you two were fucking in the showers.
"hey, since when did you wear baby blue laced panties under your uniform, little genius?"
"what?"
"your shit was all over the floor along with a pair of bra and panties, dumbass. you fucked that crazy chick from blue lock, didn't you?!"
"well, you know, your contract is expiring soon with new gen xl. you'll be renewing it, right?" the old man nervously laughed, making sae sigh.
"well, no shit. but you could've waited a few more days or something." sae snatched the paper from the table, clicking the pen and before signing, the old fat man said something that caught his ears.
"well, you know, you got an offer to play under fc barcha. they're adding members of blue lock in that team to prepare for the u-20 world cup." he informed, making sae look up in curiosity.
"blue lock members? do you know who?" sae asked, now wanting to know more.
"ah, well, i don't have the list on the top of my head. but, i know the girl that scored the winning goal for the last game is playing on the team. shit, sorry for bringing that up." the man apologized, realizing that the topic of losing might still be a small wound on the prodigy.
but, sae couldn't be bothered any less. a smirk ghosted on his lips as he threw his pen on the table.
"cancel it." sae declared, ripping the contract in his hand, making his manager's eyes widen.
"s-sae! what are you doing?!" the man panicked, not understanding where this sudden change in heart was coming from.
"i'm accepting the offer to play in fc barcha."
---
you were just about to get comfortable in your bed, though the annoying sound of nagi's snoring was ticking you off. nonetheless, your body was too tired and drained to pay too much mind to such small things.
that was until your phone buzzed.
"the fuck.." you huffed in annoyance, grabbing the device before unlocking it, seeing that it was a message from an unknown number. a gasp leaving your lips as your eyes widened when reading it.
unknown number: see you in fc barcha, cariño.
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crushmeeren · 5 months ago
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MEN WHO ARE SECRETLY PUSSY HOUNDS. (✿˶˘ ³˘)
⋆ ft. izuku, tamaki, megumi, tobio 𓌹-𓌺
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࣪ . ˖˙ 𖥦 I kind of hate this…… and I made it way too long on accident. But once I started I wanted so badly to finish it, so….. please enjoy while I crawl into a hole. (՞߹ - ߹՞)
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Izuku never fails to stand tall in the face of whatever comes his way. The man is an unyielding force in his resolve if he believes in what he’s doing.
Such a statement is simply a fact of life. It’s like declaring that the sky is blue, grass is green, and Midoriya Izuku happens to be the single most determined man you’d ever met.
He’s clever, wicked smart and, as he’s gotten older, he’s managed to get a handle on his nervous stuttering and rambling.
Hell, if you watched him in an interview now, you wouldn’t think to associate him with the humiliating first interview he’d had right out of school that managed to make him go viral overnight. The comments were not kind.
So, as calm and well spoken as Izuku is today, you never expected him to be such a….. such a pussy hound for you. It’s the best way you can describe it.
Izuku fucking loves that tight little pussy of yours in such a gut wrenching manner that he day dreams about it often enough it’s resulted in Bakugou smacking him upside the head to “pay fucking attention,” more than once during department meetings.
The scenarios that run rampant through his mind are more than enough to send all his blood rushing below his bellybutton while he’s at his desk. With the way his stomach clenches and the ache that burns and nags at him to just get. inside. your. fucking. pussy. — well, he’s sure his briefs are sticking to the tip of his cock in the most lewd way.
So, Izuku takes a long lunch.
Just like that, as soon as he gets home, Izuku becomes the stuttering, blushing, babbling mess he was not so long ago. He strides into your kitchen, snaking his arms around your waist and groans when he smells the sweet vanilla scent of your lotion on your neck.
You easily let him grip your hips and lift you up onto the edge of the counter, fingers slipping into your soft sleep shorts and tugging them down and off your ankles. Izuku kisses you frantically, shoving his pants to mid thigh and allowing his cock to bob free and smack his stomach.
He shivers, giving you the prettiest high pitched whine that shoots straight to your pussy when his heavy dick starts stretching you a bit too eagerly. His lips part and his cheeks blossom with a blush so intense you’re sure steam will come from his ears as he bottoms out.
It’s too much too quickly and when you hiss, sinking your nails into his shoulders, all he can do is bury his face in your throat and whimper in apology. You can tell he’s desperate when his voice starts to shake and his hips thrust in shallow motions controlled by a mind of their own.
He babbles, “M’sorry princess, m’so sorry! Your pussy’s so good squeezing my cock, I can’t stay still. God — oh my god, please please let me fuck you!”
It’s fruitless to resist his begging. So suffice to say, you let your blubbering, stupidly hot, pussy hound of a husband use you until you’re both curling your toes and seeing stars.
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Tamaki is shy on a good day.
He blushes bubblegum pink, he stammers, he avoids eye contact to the absolute best of his ability during interviews. Of course, he does manage to put on a more approachable front to face the public. If only to show impressionable children that if he can be brave, then they can, but still he struggles with his own anxiety.
It’s only common sense that everyone assumes you’re the more dominate one in the bedroom, and well, they aren’t wrong, per se.
But, there are two sides to every coin, and Tamaki is nothing if not a pussy hound for you.
Granted, his inner dog only comes out every so often, and even then he’s still a desperate puppy who seems to wiggle his way into having control.
And tonight, that’s where you find yourself.
Tamaki swears he can’t help it.
“T-Tamaki, stop!” You push at his shoulders, the warmth of his slick chest presses firmly against your tits and it does not help your resolve in any way. “Let me finish washing my hair at least,” you protest weakly, steam curling up into the air around you both, blanketing the shower in a fog.
Tamaki whines childishly into your throat, sucking at the hollow of it until you shudder in his hold. His fingers tighten on your hips, thumbs tracing the bone softly.
“Please pretty girl, I need you so bad. I wanna feel your pussy sucking on my cock. I’ve wanted it all day,” he pleads against your collarbone, voice pitching higher, dragging out the words at the end as he complains continuously.
He’s been at this for almost the entirety of your mutual shower and, really, it’s not as if you don’t want to have sex with him, you just wanted to finish cleaning off first! Decidedly, you lace your fingers in his drenched purple hair and yank until he pulls back and meets your gaze.
His face is a pretty rosy pink and his eyes are so hooded they’re almost shut, no trace of your shy husband to be found as he stares you down with a searing heat.
Within a heart beat of your agreement he spins you, pushing a hand into the middle of your back and tugging on your hip until your ass is sticking out. You yelp, catching yourself with palms meeting cool tile.
His cock is full and jumps steadily when he rolls his hips to drag it over the lips of your pussy, gasping softly and hanging onto your waist with an iron grip until his weeping tip catches. Then he’s sliding inside and stretching you out completely with one sharp thrust.
One low moan of his name and Tamaki’s wrenching you back to meet each desperate push of his hips. The smack of your skin is so loud it makes your face burn, and the force of it pulls you up onto your toes to keep your balance. This man’s got you biting your fingers just to keep yourself grounded.
Your poor husband’s been so worked up all day that when his panting turns into stuttered breaths and cut off whimpers after about three minutes, you’re not surprised.
“Oh, oh god, I’m gonna cum baby, wanna cum inside. Please can I?” He pleads, eyes glued to where his cock disappears inside your pussy and returns even shinier than before.
He’s crying out, shoving his dick to the root inside you and stuffing you full before you finish nodding yes.
But, it doesn’t bother you much that he finished so fast. Soon after, a soft, warm tongue starts playing with your clit, lazily eating your pussy until you’re licked clean of his release and squirting on his face.
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Megumi pretends to be aloof. He pretends that he’s cool, collected, and apathetic. As if nothing ruffles his feathers, and to give him credit, he can be those things.
Yet, he’s also much more. Once you sneak past his prickly exterior, Megumi is the kind of guy who cares so violently that he has to pretend he doesn’t or it’ll tear him to shreds. Actions speak louder than words with him.
Most people aren’t privy to the softer side of your sweet husband and he maintains his uncaring attitude to the majority nonetheless. Like it’s some kind of secret.
So you’re sure people would be unfathomably shocked to find that Megumi can and has, on several occasions, dissolved into a messy, needy, unraveled pussy hound when it comes to you.
When Megumi falls into this sort of mood, he really lets go. He’s been sending you increasingly toe curling texts and pictures all day while you were at work and you just knew what was coming once you returned home.
You find the dark haired man sitting on your couch, shorts and briefs shoved to his thighs and t-shirt rumpled at his collar bone. Slender fingers curl tightly around his cock, jerking himself off slowly, a delicious peachy blush trailing from his cheeks to his nipples.
His head raises up when he spots you, eyes heavy and smoldering when he reaches a hand out to you and makes a grabbing motion.
“C’mere baby, want you so bad,” he murmurs pitifully, hips rolling up to meet his hand when he drags it back down his shaft. You raise an eyebrow in amusement and he pushes out his lower lip.
“You need it that bad Megumi?” You tease, sauntering over to the couch to get a better look at him. He scowls in return but his hand never leaves his cock, thumb swiping over the head which makes him bite harshly onto his lower lip.
He sinks down a little lower into the couch, brows pinched together to emphasize his pretty little pout. “Don’t be mean. Just ride me.” He pauses, eyeing you. “Please.”
“Awfully demanding for someone who needs my pussy so badly, aren’t you?” The smug smile on your face makes Megumi huff indignantly.
You don’t waste much more time teasing after that, too riled up from all the nasty texts he’d sent you throughout the day.
You strip off your clothes until you’re bare. Megumi kicks off his shorts and yanks his shirt off in similar fashion, tossing them aside carelessly. You crawl onto the couch and straddle his lap, raising on your knees and steadying him at the base until you smoothly sit all the way down on his cock.
Megumi’s hands fly to your waist, head tossing backwards and eyes rolling back with a throaty moan when he finally gets the unrelenting tight squeeze on his dick that he’s been longing for since he woke up this morning.
You thread a hand through the hair at the base of his skull and pull until he looks you straight in the eye. He looks pussy drunk already with his glassy eyes and pink cheeks, jaw hanging open as his chest heaves. To think, you haven’t even moved yet.
You ride him slowly at first, listening to his bitten off gasps each time you sit back down. When you start to pick up the pace, Megumi’s eyes widen and his nails pinch your hips.
Megumi pleads with you to no avail. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels amazing princess, I can’t.” His voice takes on the whiny quality that you adore. “Please, s-slow down baby or I’m gonna cum.”
You don’t slow down. You kiss him sweetly, brace a hand on one shoulder, tangle the other in his hair again and fuck him until his breaths are shuddering remnants of a sob and he’s limp on the couch beneath you.
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Tobio, without sugar coating it, is arrogant. Don’t get it wrong, he absolutely can back that confidence up with the seemingly natural intelligence he has when it comes to volleyball, but he’s clueless with relationships. Not to mention he has zero filter.
But he’s kind. He’s sweet, and you love Tobio so much for trying his very best to understand the ins and outs of what it means to be a good boyfriend to you. He becomes such an easygoing version of himself when he’s alone with you and you get more enamored with him by the day.
That’s why you’re sure people, mainly Hinata, would pay good money for the information that “the king” is a desperate fiend for you. Your very own personal pussy hound.
Tobio commands the court, but he melts into the mattress and becomes something akin to putty when you have sex.
Your usually indifferent boyfriend has been persistently begging you all night to sit on his face and now that you are, you wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.
“Jesus Tobio, you’re so good at eating pussy — fuck,” you praise, voice slipping into a whine as you roll your hips to drag your swollen clit over his velvet tongue. Your fingers tangle in silky black hair and pull until Tobio’s eyes flutter shut with a husky moan.
One of his hands slide from your hip to your ass and he spanks you harshly, grabbing a handful before he moves it down to squeeze the base of his cock.
You keep your heavy lidded gaze on his pretty face, chest rising and falling with choked off gasps the closer you get to cumming. Tobio licks lazily at your pussy, pushing his tongue inside you and then sucking on your clit.
He cracks open his eyes and his stare makes you feel as if warm honey rushes through your veins instead of blood. His cotton candy pink cheeks paint him as the picture of pussy drunk between your thighs, whimpering when you yank on his hair that much rougher.
It doesn’t take much more for you to cum with a shiver and then Tobio’s wildly shoving you down his body until his heavy cock is nestled against your pussy.
“Baby please,” Tobio whines, large hands kneading your ass and spreading you until cool air brushes over you. “I was good yeah? So let me put my cock inside you.”
“Why should I? You’re already about to cum, aren’t you Tobio? Just from eating a little pussy.” You can’t resist the urge to tease him, tone dripping in condescension and a wolfish grin tugging at your lips.
He glances at the wall with a frown, blush roaring back to life with a vengeance but the cock twitching rhythmically between your thighs contradicts his petty actions.
“You’re gonna cum as soon as you get inside of me.”
Your boyfriend shoots you a halfhearted glare. “No, I’m not.”
Tobio, in fact, does cum the instant you sit all the way down on his cock. His voice cracks when he does, a sweet cry of your name falling from his lips.
Lucky for you, he stays rock hard afterwards, and he only looks a little dazed. Tobio flips you both and fucks you until your pussy is raw and he has nothing left to give.
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floatyflowers · 1 year ago
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Dark Platonic! Fire Nation Royal Family x Non-bender Reader
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Part 2
With Ozai:
At first he didn't accept the fact that you, his youngest child, is a non-bender, and ignored your existence.
That was until he noticed how his older brother, Iroh, spends time with you, Ozai got extremely jealous.
And decided to spend time with you, only to realize that you are his favorite child, and felt like an actual father.
Yes, you can't firebend nor do you even have the ability to protect yourself.
But why would you need to protect yourself when your father is going to be the Phoenix king of the fire nation?
Ozai will burn down the world for you.
"You, my sweet child, will grow up in the presence of a very powerful father"
With Ursa:
When Ursa found out that you couldn't bend, she became overprotective of you to the point of paranoia.
Since childhood, she refused to allow you to play with anyone except Zuko.
One time, one of her handmaidens scolded you harshly for playing outside without your mother's permission which resulted in you bursting into tears.
The next day, that handmaiden was fired and Ursa made sure that she gets no other jobs.
While thinking of escaping, she thought to take you with her.
However, Ozai has forbidden that from happening.
"When you find out the truth, promise to come find me"
With Azulon
While still alive, he made sure you had the best education and guards.
Azulon also made sure to have you believe that the fire nation is without mistakes or faults.
He tried manipulating you into believing that just your loyalty to your people is enough duty.
However, you are kind, too kind.
Yet, he Azulon didn't hate you for it even if he considered a weak trait to have in the royal family.
He also still has the flower crown you made him stored away safely so it doesn't rot.
It is rumored that the last word he muttered was your name.
With Iroh
Uncle Iroh isn't really as possessive as the other characters, but he focuses on advising you from time to time.
You enjoy drinking tea with him and gossiping about everything.
Even though, Ozai has forbidden him from speaking with you, you would sneak behind your father's back to drink tea with him.
After the loss of his son in the war, Lu Ten, Iroh felt depressed.
Yet you managed to comfort him with your cheerfulness and playful attitude.
It reminded him of his son.
"The best quality in a princess is her kindness, something which your sister clearly lacks"
With Zuko
Zuko thought you would be like Azula but you have proven him wrong.
You are kind, gentle, and nurturing just like your and his mother.
That's why Zuko always found himself by your side, being your playmate...being your protecter.
His mother told him that it's his duty to protect you from danger considering that he is your older brother.
Even though Azula has never hurt you, but Zuko was always wary of her, especially after his mother disappeared.
When Ozai challenged him to an Agni Kai, you were the first to cry out and plead with him to let Zuko off, but Ozai felt jealous of your relationship with Zuko and was determined to teach his son a lesson.
However when your brother got banished, Zuko took you with him in secret not wanting you to be left with Azula.
"I know the journey will take long but once I restore my honor we can return home together"
With Azula
Azula was extremely jealous when you were born, thinking that you will take all the attention from her.
But she realized that you deserve all the attention.
You didn't treat her like a monster, you weren't scared of her.
Instead you showed her love and called her 'big sister'
You would cling to her as a toddler, whenever there was lightning, you would secretly sneak to her room and sleep beside her.
"How can you be scared of lightning, we control it, silly"
Mai and Ty Lee saw how Azula softens whenever you are around.
And when Azula discovered that you have left with Zuko, she destroyed everything in her way and burned a few servants.
"She's mine, and only MINE"
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pucksandpower · 5 months ago
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Paddock Princess
Formula 1 (literally half the grid) x Vettel!Reader
Summary: when the drivers find out that you’re planning to have a baby all by yourself, they offer to help out by playing sperm roulette … the results are surprisingly wholesome
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The buzz of excitement fills the air as the paddock comes to life on a sunny morning. Drivers, team personnel, and media representatives mill about, but there’s a palpable sense of anticipation among a particular group of racers gathered near the Ferrari motorhome.
Max leans against the sleek red structure, his eyes darting around nervously. “Has anyone seen her yet?” He asks, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not yet. But she should be here soon, right?”
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Lando chimes in, bouncing on his toes. “It’s like something out of a movie.”
Carlos nods in agreement, a grin spreading across his face. “A very strange movie, but I’m here for it.”
George glances at his watch, his brow furrowed. “She’s usually here by now. You don’t think she’s having second thoughts, do you?”
“No way,” Oscar says confidently. “You know her. Once she sets her mind to something, that’s it.”
Lewis, standing slightly apart from the younger drivers, offers a reassuring smile. “Oscar’s right. She’s one of the most determined people I know. If this is what she wants, she’ll see it through.”
Logan, the newest addition to the group, shifts nervously. “I still can’t believe you guys talked me into this. My mom would freak if she knew.”
Alex pats him on the shoulder. “Relax, mate. It’s all anonymous, remember? Besides, think of how happy she’ll be.”
Fernando, leaning against a nearby barrier, nods sagely. “Exactly. We’re doing this for her, because she deserves it.”
Lance, who’s been quiet until now, suddenly straightens up. “Heads up, guys. I think I see her coming.”
The group falls silent as you approach, your press pass swinging from your neck and a warm smile on your face. “Morning, boys,” you greet them cheerfully. “Why do you all look like you’re up to something?”
Max clears his throat, trying to sound casual. “Us? Never. Just, uh, enjoying the nice weather.”
You raise an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. And I suppose you’re all gathered here by pure coincidence?”
Charles steps forward, his charm on full display. “Can’t we just be happy to see our favorite reporter?”
You laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along. But seriously, what’s going on? You’re all acting weird.”
The drivers exchange glances, silently debating who should speak first. Finally, Lewis takes the lead.
“We heard about your decision,” he says gently. “About wanting to have a baby.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t realize ... I mean, I only told a couple of people.”
Lando grins sheepishly. “Word travels fast in the paddock. Especially when it’s about you.”
You look around at the group, a mix of emotions playing across your face. “Okay, so you know. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all acting like you’re planning a heist.”
Carlos steps forward, his expression earnest. “We want to help.”
You blink, confusion evident in your eyes. “Help? How?”
George takes a deep breath before plunging in. “We’ve all agreed to donate sperm. To give you options, you know?”
Your jaw drops, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “You ... what?”
Oscar jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We know you said you were thinking about using a sperm bank, but we thought, well, why not use someone you actually know?”
“And trust,” Alex adds quickly.
You look around at the group, your expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something that might be amusement. “Let me get this straight. All of you,” you gesture at the assembled drivers, “want to donate sperm so I can have a baby?”
They nod in unison, and you can’t help but laugh. “This is ... I don’t even know what to say. It’s incredibly sweet, but also completely insane.”
Fernando steps forward, his expression serious. “We know it’s unconventional. But you’re important to all of us. We want to support you in any way we can.”
You shake your head, still trying to process the situation. “I appreciate that, truly. But guys, this is a huge decision. It’s not just about me having a baby. One of you would be a father.”
Max nods, his face set in determination. “We’ve thought about that. A lot, actually.”
“And we’re okay with it,” Lando adds. “Whatever level of involvement you want, we’ll respect that.”
You look at them, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Wait a minute. How exactly would this work? I can’t exactly pick one of you. That would be ...”
“Awkward,” Lance finishes for you. “We know. That’s why we came up with a plan.”
Logan, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “We’d all donate, and then the clinic would mix the samples together.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. “So it would be like ... artificial insemination roulette?”
Carlos grins. “Exactly! That way, no one knows who the father is. It could be any of us.”
You shake your head, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. “This is absolutely crazy. You know that, right?”
Lewis steps closer, his expression gentle. “Maybe. But we all care about you. We want you to be happy, and we know how much you want this.”
You look around at the group, taking in their earnest expressions. “I don’t know what to say. This is ... a lot to process.”
George nods understandingly. “Of course it is. We don’t expect you to decide right now. Just ... think about it, okay?”
You nod slowly, still looking a bit dazed. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But guys, this is a huge thing you’re offering. Are you sure you’ve really thought it through?”
Alex speaks up, his voice calm and reassuring. “We have. We’ve talked about it a lot, actually. We know it’s not a decision to make lightly.”
“But we’re all in agreement,” Oscar adds. “If this is what you want, we want to help make it happen.”
You take a deep breath, looking around at the group. “I need some time to think about this. It’s ... a lot to take in.”
Max nods, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”
As you turn to walk away, still looking a bit shell-shocked, the drivers watch you go with a mix of hope and anxiety.
“Do you think she’ll go for it?” Lando asks, nervously fidgeting with his sleeve.
Charles shrugs, his eyes still following your retreating figure. “I don’t know. It’s a big decision.”
“We’ve done our part,” Fernando says sagely. “Now it’s up to her.”
The group falls into a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the potential consequences of their offer.
Several days pass, and the paddock is abuzz with speculation. The drivers have managed to keep their offer under wraps, but your contemplative mood hasn’t gone unnoticed.
You find yourself cornered by the group once again, this time in a quiet corner of the paddock after qualifying.
“So,” Max says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Have you, uh, given any thought to our offer?”
You look around at the expectant faces surrounding you and take a deep breath. “I have, actually. I’ve thought about little else, to be honest.”
The tension in the air is palpable as they wait for your decision.
“I’m still not sure this is the right thing to do,” you begin, and you can see their faces fall. “But ... I can’t deny that the idea has a certain appeal.”
Hope blossoms in their expressions, and you can’t help but smile at their eagerness.
“Before I say yes,” you continue, holding up a hand to stave off their excitement, “I need to know that you’ve all really thought this through. This isn’t just about me having a baby. One of you will be a father, even if we don’t know which one.”
Lewis nods solemnly. “We understand. We’ve talked about it a lot, believe me.”
“And you’re all okay with the possibility of having a child out there that you might never know is yours?” You press.
They exchange glances before nodding in unison.
“We know it’s not a conventional situation,” Charles says. “But we’re all willing to accept whatever comes of this.”
You look at each of them in turn, searching their faces for any sign of doubt. Finding none, you take a deep breath.
“Okay,” you say finally. “If you’re all sure about this ... then yes. I’d be honored to accept your offer.”
The reaction is immediate and overwhelming. Cheers erupt from the group, and before you know it, you’re engulfed in a group hug.
“This is going to be amazing,” Lando exclaims, his face lit up with excitement.
“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” Alex adds, his smile warm and sincere.
As the excitement dies down, practical considerations start to surface.
“So, how do we do this?” Oscar asks. “Do we all just show up at the clinic or ...”
You can’t help but laugh at the mental image. “I think it might be best if we handle this discreetly. I’ll talk to the clinic and set everything up. They can give you instructions on how to make your ... contributions.”
George nods, looking relieved. “That sounds like a good plan. We don’t want this getting out to the media.”
“Agreed,” you say firmly. “This stays between us. No one else needs to know the details.”
The group nods in agreement, and you feel a wave of affection for these men who are willing to go to such lengths for you.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” you say, shaking your head in wonder.
Fernando smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Believe it. In a few months, you could be on your way to motherhood.”
The reality of the situation starts to sink in, and you feel a mix of excitement and nerves. “This is going to change everything, isn’t it?”
“Change can be good,” Carlos says, giving you a reassuring smile. “And you won’t be alone. We’ll all be here to support you.”
You look around at the group, feeling overwhelmed by their support and affection. “Thank you. All of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this.”
Max grins, lightening the mood. “Well, naming the kid after me would be a good start.”
The group erupts in laughter, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Nice try, Verstappen. But I think we’ll be steering clear of any names that might give away paternity.”
As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the group. The magnitude of what you’ve all agreed to hangs in the air, but it’s accompanied by a sense of excitement and possibility.
“So,” Lance says, breaking the silence. “I guess the next step is to set up appointments at the clinic?”
You nod, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement in your stomach. “Yeah, I’ll get that sorted out and let you all know the details.”
“And then ...” Logan trails off, looking a bit overwhelmed.
“And then we wait,” Lewis finishes for him. “And hope for the best.”
You look around at the group of men surrounding you, each one ready to potentially become a father for your sake. It’s an unconventional situation, to say the least, but as you take in their supportive smiles and excited eyes, you can’t help but feel that you’re embarking on something truly special.
“Well, boys,” you say, a smile spreading across your face. “I guess we’re really doing this. Let Operation Make A Baby commence.”
***
The hospital waiting room crackles with nervous energy as eleven Formula 1 drivers pace, fidget, and attempt to distract themselves. The air is thick with anticipation, and every time the door opens, heads snap up in unison, hoping for news.
Max runs a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. “How long has it been now?” He asks, his voice tight with tension.
George checks his watch. “About six hours since we got here. But labor can take a while, especially for first-time mothers.”
“I still can’t believe this is really happening,” Lando says, his leg bouncing incessantly. “One of us is about to become a father.”
Charles nods, his eyes fixed on the door. “It’s surreal. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this was all a dream.”
“Not a dream, mate,” Alex says, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Very much real.”
The door swings open, and a nurse steps out. The drivers collectively hold their breath, but she merely smiles apologetically and heads down the hallway.
Carlos groans. “This waiting is killing me. How are we supposed to just sit here?”
“We could place bets on who the father is,” Logan suggests with a nervous laugh.
Lewis shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We agreed we wouldn’t try to figure it out, remember?”
“Lewis is right,” Fernando says sagely. “What matters is that the baby and the mother are healthy.”
Oscar nods in agreement. “Exactly. We’re all in this together, regardless of biology.”
Lance, who’s been quietly observing until now, speaks up. “Do you think she’s scared? I mean, we’re all nervous wrecks out here, and we’re not the ones giving birth.”
The group falls silent, contemplating Lance’s words. It’s a sobering thought, reminding them of the magnitude of what’s happening just beyond those doors.
“She’s strong,” Max says finally, his voice filled with admiration. “Stronger than all of us put together. She’ll be fine.”
As if on cue, the door swings open again, and this time, a doctor steps out. The drivers scramble to their feet, forming a semicircle around her.
“Gentlemen,” the doctor says, a smile playing at her lips. “I’m happy to inform you that both mother and baby are doing well. It’s a healthy baby girl.”
A collective cheer erupts from the group, followed by a flurry of hugs and backslaps. The tension that’s been building for hours finally breaks, replaced by jubilant relief.
“When can we see them?” Charles asks eagerly.
The doctor holds up a hand. “The mother is resting now, but she’s asked to see you all in about an hour. She wants you to meet the baby together.”
As the doctor leaves, the drivers look at each other, a mix of excitement and nerves on their faces.
“A girl,” Lando says, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “We have a daughter.”
“She has a daughter,” Lewis gently corrects. “We’re ... well, I’m not sure what we are exactly.”
“We’re family,” Fernando says firmly. “All of us and the little one.”
The next hour passes in a blur of excited chatter and speculation. Finally, a nurse appears to escort them to the private room where you and the baby are waiting.
As they file into the room, the sight that greets them renders them momentarily speechless. You’re propped up in the bed, looking tired but radiant, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.
You look up as they enter, a soft smile on your face. “Hey, guys. Come meet your daughter.”
The drivers approach cautiously, as if afraid they might break the spell. You adjust the blanket, revealing a tiny face with rosebud lips and a button nose.
“She’s beautiful,” Max breathes, his eyes wide with wonder.
“She’s perfect,” Charles adds, his voice choked with emotion.
You beam at them, your eyes shining. “Want to hold her?”
After a moment of hesitation, Lewis steps forward. With practiced ease, he gently takes the baby from you, cradling her carefully in his arms.
“Hello, little one,” he coos softly. “Welcome to the world.”
The other drivers crowd around, each wanting a closer look. As Lewis passes the baby to Carlos, the scrutiny intensifies.
“Is it just me, or does she have Max’s nose?” Lando asks, peering closely at the tiny face.
Max leans in, his brow furrowed. “I don’t see it. But those ears ... they look like yours, Lando.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Boys, she’s about one hour old. I think it’s a bit early to be playing guess the father, don’t you?”
The drivers have the grace to look sheepish, but their curiosity is far from satisfied.
As the baby is passed from driver to driver, the observations continue.
“She has a strong grip,” Alex notes as tiny fingers wrap around his thumb. “Definitely going to be a racer.”
“Look at those long eyelashes,” Oscar marvels. “Those have to be from Charles.”
Charles preens a bit at this, while the others roll their eyes good-naturedly.
When it’s Fernando’s turn to hold the baby, he studies her with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he says slowly, “I think she has your smile.”
You raise an eyebrow. “She hasn’t even smiled yet.”
He shakes his head, a mysterious smile on his face. “Trust me. I can tell.”
As the baby makes her way back to you, the drivers settle into chairs around the room, their eyes never leaving the tiny bundle.
“So,” George says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you thought about names?”
You nod, looking down at your daughter. “I have, actually. I was thinking ... Nessa. It means miracle. I thought it was fitting, given how she came into our lives.”
“Nessa,” Logan repeats, testing the name. “I like it. It’s beautiful.”
The others murmur their agreement, and you feel a wave of relief. Naming a baby is hard enough without having to consider the opinions of eleven potential fathers.
“Nessa it is, then,” you say, smiling down at the sleeping infant.
Lance, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “Can I ask ... how are you feeling? About all of this, I mean.”
You take a moment to consider the question. “Honestly? I’m overwhelmed. Excited, terrified, grateful ... all at once. But mostly, I’m just in awe. Of her, of this whole situation, of all of you.”
The drivers exchange glances, a mix of emotions playing across their faces.
“We’re the ones who should be in awe of you,” Carlos says softly. “You’ve given us an incredible gift.”
“He’s right,” Max adds. “No matter which one of us is her biological father, we’re all going to love her. And you.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you. All of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
As if sensing the emotional moment, Nessa chooses that moment to wake up, her tiny face scrunching up as she lets out a wail.
“Oh boy,” Lando says, his eyes wide. “That’s quite a set of lungs she’s got there.”
You laugh, adjusting Nessa in your arms. “Well, she is a paddock baby. Got to make herself heard over those engines somehow.”
As you soothe the baby, the drivers watch in fascination. It’s clear that despite their earlier bravado, the reality of a newborn is a bit daunting.
“So, uh, what happens now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
You look up from Nessa, who’s settled back into sleep. “Well, we’ll be here for a couple more days. After that ... I guess we figure it out as we go along.”
Lewis nods thoughtfully. “We’ll need to work out a schedule. Make sure you have support, especially during race weekends.”
“And we’ll need to baby-proof our garages,” Alex adds. “Can’t have her crawling into a stack of tires.”
The conversation turns to practical matters — childcare arrangements, safety considerations, and how to balance their racing careers with their new roles as ... well, whatever they are to Nessa.
As they talk, you can’t help but marvel at the scene. Eleven of the world’s most elite drivers, discussing diaper brands and the merits of various baby carriers with the same intensity they usually reserve for tire strategies and aerodynamics.
“You know,” you say, interrupting a heated debate about the best brand of baby formula, “I think Nessa might be the luckiest baby in the world.”
The drivers pause, looking at you quizzically.
You smile, looking around at each of them. “She’s got eleven of the most dedicated, passionate, and competitive men in the world looking out for her. Plus, she’s guaranteed to have the coolest bring your parent to school day ever.”
The room erupts in laughter, the tension of the day finally breaking.
“Just wait until she’s old enough to drive,” Max says with a grin. “We’ll have her in a kart before she can walk.”
“Oh no,” you groan, though you’re smiling. “I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”
“Eleven monsters,” Charles corrects with a wink. “Don’t forget, we’re all in this together.”
As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the room. Nessa sleeps peacefully in your arms, blissfully unaware of the extraordinary circumstances of her birth and the unique family she’s been born into.
Fernando breaks the silence. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “in many ways, this little one embodies the spirit of Formula 1.”
The others look at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Think about it,” he continues. “She’s the product of competition, of pushing boundaries, of taking risks. But she’s also about teamwork, about coming together for a common goal. Just like us on the track.”
The drivers nod, considering Fernando’s words.
“Plus,” Logan adds with a grin, “she’s already got a better sleep schedule than most of us during a race weekend.”
Another round of laughter fills the room, and you feel a surge of affection for these men who have become so much more than colleagues or even friends.
As visiting hours come to an end and the nurses start to shoo the drivers out, there’s a reluctance to leave. Each of them takes a moment to say goodbye to Nessa, promising to return soon.
Before they go, Lewis gathers everyone into a tight circle around your bed.
“I think we need to make a pact,” he says solemnly. “No matter what happens, no matter how our careers go or how life changes, we stick together for Nessa. She’s part of all of us now.”
The drivers nod in agreement, their faces serious.
“For Nessa,” Max says, placing his hand in the center of the circle.
One by one, the others follow suit, until all eleven hands are stacked together.
“For Nessa,” they chorus, and in that moment, you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you and your daughter will never face them alone.
As the drivers file out, casting longing glances back at the sleeping baby, you settle back against your pillows, exhausted but content.
Looking down at Nessa’s peaceful face, you whisper, “Welcome to the world, little one. You’ve got quite the adventure ahead of you.”
And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but smile at the thought of the unconventional but loving family waiting just outside those hospital doors, ready to take on the world for the tiny girl in your arms.
***
The paddock rushes with activity as teams prepare for the upcoming race weekend. But between the usual hustle and bustle, an unusual sight catches everyone’s attention: you, pushing a stroller with a now six-month-old Nessa, surrounded by a protective circle of drivers.
Max hovers close, his eyes darting around warily. “Are you sure this was a good idea? Bringing her to the track?”
You laugh, adjusting Nessa’s sun hat. “Max, she’s been coming to races since she was born. This is nothing new.”
“Yeah, but now she’s old enough to attract attention,” Charles points out, cooing at Nessa as she gurgles happily.
Lando nods in agreement. “People are starting to ask questions. Did you see that article in Autosport last week?”
You sigh, remembering the speculative piece about Nessa’s parentage. “I saw it. But we knew this day would come eventually.”
As the group makes their way through the paddock, heads turn and whispers follow. The sight of eleven of the world’s top drivers fawning over one baby is certainly not an everyday occurrence.
Carlos leans in, speaking softly. “Maybe we should have come up with a cover story. You know, pick one of us to pretend to be the father.”
George shakes his head. “No, we agreed from the start — no lies. We’re all in this together, remember?”
“Easier said than done,” Logan mutters, noticing a group of journalists eyeing them curiously.
As they approach the Mercedes garage, Lewis spots a familiar face and freezes. “Uh, guys? We might have a problem.”
The others follow his gaze to see your older brother, striding purposefully towards the group. His expression is a mix of confusion and growing anger.
“Seb!” You exclaim, trying to sound casual. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Switzerland.”
Sebastian ignores your greeting, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. “What’s going on here?” He demands, his gaze sweeping over the assembled drivers.
The group exchanges nervous glances, each silently hoping someone else will take the lead.
Finally, Fernando steps forward, ever the diplomat. “Sebastian, my friend. It’s good to see you. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private?”
But Sebastian is having none of it. His eyes lock onto Lewis, who instinctively takes a step back. “Lewis?” He says, his voice dangerously quiet. “Care to explain why you and half the grid are hovering around my sister and a baby?”
Lewis swallows hard, looking to the others for support. Finding none, he takes a deep breath. “Seb, it’s not what you think. Well, it is, but also it isn’t. You see-”
“Lewis?” Sebastian explodes, his face reddening. “I thought better of you!”
The outburst draws even more attention, and you can see team personnel and journalists alike straining to hear what’s happening.
Lewis, caught off guard by Sebastian’s reaction, blurts out, “In my defense, I thought I would get to fuck her!”
A collective gasp goes up from the group, and you bury your face in your hands, mortified.
Sebastian’s eyes widen in shock and fury. “Tha- what? How would that make it better?”
Realizing his mistake, Lewis backpedals frantically. “No, no, that came out wrong! I didn’t mean-”
But Sebastian is beyond listening. He lunges forward, only to be held back by Alex and Oscar.
“Let me go!” Sebastian growls, struggling against their grip. “I’m going to kill him!”
Nessa, startled by the commotion, begins to cry. The sound seems to snap everyone back to reality.
“Enough!” You shout, your voice cutting through the chaos. “All of you, into the motorhome. Now!”
Chastened, the drivers file into the nearby Red Bull motorhome, with Alex and Oscar still keeping a firm grip on Sebastian. You follow, pushing Nessa’s stroller and trying to soothe her.
Once inside, with the door firmly closed against prying eyes and ears, you turn to face the group. Sebastian stands at one end, still glaring daggers at Lewis, who’s wisely put Max and Charles between them.
“Alright,” you say, your voice tight with frustration. “I guess it’s time we explained everything.”
Over the next hour, you and the drivers take turns recounting the story — from your decision to have a baby, to their unconventional offer, to Nessa’s birth and the months since. Sebastian listens in stunned silence, his expression cycling through disbelief, confusion, and finally, grudging understanding.
When the tale is finished, Sebastian slumps into a chair, running a hand over his face. “So let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You,” he points at you, “decided to have a baby on your own. And you lot,” he gestures at the drivers, “thought the best solution was to play some kind of ... paternity lottery?”
Lance nods hesitantly. “When you put it like that, it does sound a bit mad.”
“A bit?” Sebastian laughs incredulously. “It’s completely insane!”
“But it worked,” Carlos points out, gently rocking Nessa, who has calmed down and is now contentedly chewing on his finger. “Look at her, Seb. She’s perfect.”
Sebastian’s expression softens as he looks at his niece. “She is beautiful,” he admits. Then, turning back to the group, he adds sternly, “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you all took advantage of my sister!”
“They didn’t take advantage of me,” you interject firmly. “This was my choice. They were just ... supporting me.”
“By offering to impregnate you?” Sebastian retorts, his protective big brother instincts in full force.
George steps forward, his expression earnest. “Sebastian, I know how this looks. But we care about your sister. All of us. We just wanted to help make her dream come true.”
“And create the world’s most confusing family tree in the process,” Logan mutters, earning a sharp elbow from Lando.
Sebastian sighs, looking around at the assembled drivers. “I still can’t believe you all agreed to this. Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? The media frenzy when this gets out?”
Fernando shrugs philosophically. “Life is full of challenges. This is just another one.”
“Easy for you to say,” Max grumbles. “You’re basically past retirement age. Some of us still have our whole careers ahead of us.”
The room falls silent as the reality of their situation sinks in. The secret they’ve managed to keep for over a year is on the verge of exploding into the public eye.
“So what do we do now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
You look down at Nessa, who’s drifted off to sleep in Carlos’ arms, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. “We tell the truth,” you say firmly. “Or at least, as much of it as we’re comfortable sharing.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly does that mean?”
Lewis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet since his earlier outburst, speaks up. “We could say that we all agreed to help you have a child, but keep the details private. No need to mention the ... um, method.”
“You mean the part where you thought you would get to fuck her?” Sebastian growls, causing Lewis to wince.
“I really am sorry about that,” Lewis says sheepishly. “It came out all wrong.”
You shake your head, exasperated. “Focus, boys. We need a plan.”
Over the next hour, the group hashes out a strategy. They decide to release a joint statement explaining that you had chosen to become a single mother, and that the drivers, as your close friends, had offered their support. The exact nature of that support would remain private.
As they finalize the details, Sebastian watches the interactions with growing amazement. The way the drivers instinctively work together, finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating potential issues, speaks to a bond that goes beyond mere friendship or even shared paternity.
“You know,” he says finally, interrupting a debate about whether to use the phrase ‘unconventional family’ in their statement, “I think I owe you all an apology.”
The room falls silent, all eyes turning to Sebastian.
He continues, his voice softer now. “I reacted badly earlier. But seeing you all now, how you’ve come together for my sister and for Nessa ... it’s actually kind of beautiful.”
You feel tears pricking at your eyes as you move to hug your brother. “Thank you, Seb. That means a lot.”
As you pull away, Sebastian turns to address the group. “But let me make one thing clear,” he says, his tone becoming stern once more. “If any of you ever hurt my sister or my niece, you’ll have me to answer to. Understood?”
The drivers nod solemnly, a mixture of respect and residual fear in their eyes.
“Good,” Sebastian says, a small smile finally breaking through. “Now, who’s going to let me hold my niece?”
As Carlos carefully transfers the sleeping Nessa to Sebastian’s arms, the tension in the room finally dissipates. Watching your brother coo over your daughter, surrounded by the unconventional family you’ve built, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.
“Well,” Lando says, breaking the moment, “I guess the hardest part’s over. Now we just have to explain this to the rest of the world.”
Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Mate, I think that might actually be the easy part. It’s raising her that’s going to be the real challenge.”
As the group dissolves into laughter, discussing potential future scenarios (“Who’s going to teach her to drive?” “All of us, obviously!” “God help us all.”), you can’t help but marvel at the strange and wonderful turn your life has taken.
Looking around at the men who have become so much more than colleagues or friends — who have become family in the truest sense of the word — you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. And really, with a support system like this, how can you possibly fail?
As the laughter and chatter continue around you, Nessa stirs in Sebastian’s arms, her tiny hand reaching out. Without hesitation, eleven hands reach back, each driver gently touching a finger or offering a thumb for her to grasp.
In that moment, watching the most competitive men in motorsport melt over one tiny girl, you know that no matter what the future holds, Nessa will never lack for love, support, or, undoubtedly, speed.
***
The sun beats down on the jam-packed karting track, the air thick with the scent of fuel and the buzz of excitement. Amid the crowd of nervous parents and eager young racers, one group stands out: eleven men, a mix of current and former Formula 1 drivers, clustered around a small kart where an eight-year-old girl sits, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her face a mask of determination.
“Remember, Nessa,” Max says, kneeling beside the kart to look the girl in the eye, “smooth on the throttle, late on the brakes.”
Charles leans in from the other side. “But not too late, mon chou. You don’t want to lock up in the corners.”
“And watch your lines,” Lewis adds, adjusting Nessa’s helmet. “The racing line isn’t always the optimal when you’re being pressured.”
Nessa nods solemnly, taking in every word. “I know, I know. We’ve been over this a million times.”
Lando grins, ruffling her hair. “That’s our girl. You’ve got this, kiddo.”
Around them, other parents and children stare in disbelief. Whispers ripple through the crowd as people recognize the famous faces surrounding the young racer.
“Is that really Lewis Hamilton?” One mother hisses to her husband.
“And Max Verstappen!” The man replies, his eyes wide. “What are they doing here?”
A nearby father shakes his head in amazement. “I heard rumors about that kid, but I didn’t believe them. How can she have so many ... well, fathers?”
Meanwhile, you stand slightly apart from the group, watching the scene with a mix of pride and amusement. Your brother sidles up beside you.
“You know,” he says with a wry smile, “when I imagined my niece’s first race, I didn’t quite picture this circus.”
You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh come on, you love it. Besides, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”
As if to prove your point, Sebastian’s eyes narrow as he spots Carlos making a last-minute adjustment to Nessa’s kart. “Hey!” He calls out, striding over. “What are you doing to her suspension?”
Carlos looks up, startled. “Just a small tweak. The track’s a bit bumpy on turn three.”
“It’s fine as it is,” George interjects, crouching down to inspect the kart. “Any softer and she’ll lose responsiveness in the chicane.”
“Actually,” Fernando chimes in, “a slight adjustment might help. But not too much, Carlos.”
As the debate over suspension settings intensifies, Alex notices Nessa’s growing nervousness. He kneels beside her, speaking softly. “Hey, little racer. How are you feeling?”
Nessa bites her lip, her eyes darting between her arguing fathers and the other young racers preparing for the race. “What if I let them down?” She whispers. “They’re all so excited.”
Alex’s expression softens. “Oh, Nessa. You could never let us down. We’re proud of you no matter what happens out there.”
“He’s right,” Oscar adds, overhearing the conversation. “We’re here because we love you, not because we expect you to win.”
“Although winning would be nice,” Logan quips, earning a chorus of groans and eye-rolls from the others.
“What Logan means,” Lance says, shooting a glare at his fellow driver, “is that we want you to do your best and, most importantly, have fun.”
Nessa nods, a small smile finally breaking through her nervous expression. “Okay. I’ll try.”
As the call comes for racers to take their positions, the group reluctantly steps back, allowing Nessa to maneuver her kart to the starting line. You move forward, leaning in to give your daughter a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Remember,” you say softly, “you’re amazing, no matter what happens out there. And we love you more than anything.”
Nessa beams at you, her earlier nerves seeming to melt away. “I love you too. And all my dads,” she adds with a giggle, looking at the assembled drivers.
As you step back to join the others, the atmosphere around you changes. The playful bickering and nervous energy give way to a focused intensity that you recognize from countless race weekends. Eleven pairs of eyes are locked on the small figure in the pink and white kart, second row on the starting grid.
The lights begin their sequence, and you can almost feel the collective intake of breath from the men around you. Green! The karts surge forward, and Nessa makes a good start, holding her position into the first corner.
“That’s it, ma princesse!” Charles cheers, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Hold your line!”
“Watch your inside on turn two,” Max mutters, as if Nessa could hear him. “There’s space if you need it.”
As the race progresses, the commentary from the drivers becomes a constant stream, analyzing every move, every overtake, every defensive maneuver. Other parents cast bewildered glances their way, clearly overwhelmed by the level of scrutiny being applied to what they had assumed would be a casual children’s race.
Midway through the race, Nessa makes a bold move, diving down the inside of the leader into a tight hairpin. The karts touch slightly, and for a heart-stopping moment, it looks like both might spin.
“Steady!” Lewis calls out, his body tensing as if he could somehow influence the outcome through sheer will.
But Nessa manages to control the kart, emerging from the corner in the lead as the other driver runs wide.
The group erupts in cheers, their earlier promises of “it’s not about winning” seemingly forgotten in the heat of the moment.
“Did you see that move?” Lando exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was pure Norris!”
“Excuse me,” Charles interjects, a proud grin on his face, “I think you mean pure Leclerc. That finesse under pressure? All Ferrari.”
“Oh please,” George scoffs good-naturedly. “That was clearly a Russell special. Calculated risk with perfect execution.”
As the friendly argument over whose racing style Nessa has inherited continues, Sebastian leans in close to you. “You know,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation, “I’m starting to think we created a monster.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, we definitely did. But look how happy they all are.”
Indeed, as you watch the men who have become your family over the past eight years, you’re struck by the pure joy radiating from them. Their focus is entirely on Nessa, their own achievements and rivalries forgotten in their shared pride for this little girl who has somehow become the center of their world.
As the final lap approaches, Nessa is still in the lead, but with another driver close on her tail. The tension among the group reaches fever pitch.
“Come on, Nessa,” Fernando murmurs, his eyes never leaving the track. “You’ve got this. Stay focused.”
“Defend the inside line,” Carlos advises, as if she could hear him. “Don’t give them any space.”
The last corner approaches, and the second-place kart makes a desperate lunge for the inside line. For a moment, it looks like Nessa might be overtaken at the last second.
“No, no, no,” Alex mutters, his hands clenched into fists.
But Nessa holds her nerve, taking a slightly wider line and using her momentum to slingshot out of the corner and across the finish line, just ahead of her rival.
The eruption of cheers from the group of F1 drivers drowns out even the sound of the karts. They jump, hug each other, and pump their fists in the air as if Nessa had just won the World Drivers’ Championship.
As Nessa brings her kart to a stop in the pit area, she’s immediately surrounded by her fathers, each clamoring to be the first to congratulate her.
“That was incredible, little love!” Lewis exclaims, helping her out of the kart.
“You drove like a champion,” Max adds, his face split by an enormous grin.
“I’m so proud of you, mon petit champion,” Charles says, pulling her into a tight hug.
The other parents watch in amazement as Nessa is passed from one racing legend to another, each offering praise, analysis, and suggestions for improvement in equal measure.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” one father mutters to his wife. “How is this fair? That kid has a whole F1 pit crew!”
His wife shushes him, but nods in agreement, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold.
Meanwhile, you make your way through the crowd of excited drivers to reach your daughter. As you approach, the men part to let you through, their chatter dying down.
You kneel in front of Nessa, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” You ask softly.
Nessa’s face breaks into a wide grin. “That was amazing! Did you see when I overtook on the hairpin? And the last corner, I thought for sure he was going to pass me, but I remembered what Papa Fernando said about late apexes, and it worked!”
You laugh, pulling her into a hug. “I saw it all, baby. You were incredible.”
As you release her, Nessa looks around at the circle of beaming faces surrounding her. “Did I make you proud?” She asks, a hint of her earlier nervousness returning.
“Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Sebastian says, ruffling her hair affectionately.
“You exceeded all our expectations,” Fernando adds with a warm smile.
“And trust me,” Lando chimes in with a wink, “our expectations were pretty high to begin with.”
As Nessa basks in the praise and attention of her unconventional family, a race official approaches, looking slightly overwhelmed.
“Excuse me,” he says hesitantly, “but we need to do the podium ceremony now.”
The drivers reluctantly step back, allowing Nessa to follow the official to the makeshift podium. As she takes her place on the top step, her face beaming with pride, you find yourself surrounded by eleven grown men, each looking as proud as if they had just won a world championship themselves.
“You know,” Oscar says softly, his eyes never leaving Nessa as she receives her trophy, “I think we might be in trouble.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, turning to look at him.
He grins, a mixture of pride and mock fear in his eyes. “If she’s this good at eight, can you imagine what she’ll be like at eighteen? We might be out of jobs.”
The group chuckles, but there’s a note of truth in Oscar’s words. As you watch Nessa on the podium, her small hands raised in triumph, you can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this extraordinary little girl with her eleven F1 driver fathers.
But for now, as the sound of applause fills the air and you see the pure joy on Nessa’s face, you push those thoughts aside. There will be time enough for worrying about the future later. For now, you’re content to bask in this moment of triumph, surrounded by the most unconventional and wonderful family you could have ever imagined.
As Nessa runs back to the group, her trophy clutched tightly in her hands, she’s enveloped in a group hug that threatens to lift her off her feet. And in that moment, watching the pure love and pride radiating from these men who have given your daughter so much more than just their DNA, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, Nessa will always have the strongest support system imaginable.
After all, with her fathers in her corner, how can she possibly fail?
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