#I may ask him if I can borrow it at the start of the next school year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violettaskies · 7 months

Text

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right?

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking.

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register.

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order.

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.”

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone.

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —”

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.”

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly.

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?”

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.”

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel.

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers.

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library.

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head.

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly.

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully.

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man.

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?”

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas.

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed.

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your —

No.

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever.

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle.

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot.

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.”

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.”

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you.

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?”

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words.

What a dream.

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket.

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly.

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.”

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry.

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little.

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice.

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body.

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever.

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least.

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve.

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong.

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs.

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal.

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together.

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant.

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before.

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too.

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process.

You were about to become the death of him tonight.

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him.

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep.

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly.

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily.

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep.

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream.

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.”

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand.

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully.

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together.

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure.

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status.

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it.

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?”

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight.

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions.

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered.

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all.

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment.

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice.

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them.

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth.

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot.

“Y-yes, I would be.”

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.”

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone.

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle.

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.”

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure.

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind.

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him.

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly.

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him.

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts.

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again.

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down.

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.”

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before.

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted.

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly.

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever.

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours.

“More, please.”

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.”

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea.

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned.

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you.

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong.

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise.

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him.

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter.

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met.

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back.

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again.

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.”

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub.

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod.

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal.

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper.

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder.

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve.

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples.

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good.

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin.

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.”

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms.

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently.

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high.

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down.

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips.

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips,

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses.

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now.

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?”

Fuck.

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly.

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust.

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?”

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least.

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle.

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking.

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased.

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers.

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed.

“Let's use a little, Steve.”

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand.

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.”

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight.

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you.

Just the tip — you said the words before.

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out.

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of.

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in.

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size.

“Feels nice.”

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you.

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved.

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body.

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you.

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you.

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.”

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully.

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely. “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned.

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you.

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies.

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.”

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now.

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days.

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster.

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.”

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots.

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you.

And he did.

Good god, he did.

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously.

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve.

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you.

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way.

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays.

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you.

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process.

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again.

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs.

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze.

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips.

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked.

“Another day?”

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin.

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process.

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too.

-:-:-:-:-

5K notes · View notes

my-love-is-sunlight · 3 months

Text

one piece men react to you screaming their full name

ft. Ace, Zoro, Sanji

SFW, mentions of alcohol and smoking, gn reader

Masterlist

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Ace

“PORTGAS D. ACE” your voice resonates through all the walls, rooms and every nook and cranny from the Moby Dick. The mentioned stood frozen at the dinner table fork still full of food, he knew better than to run away

“What did you do now?” Marco asked eyes wide open

“Nothing!… that I remember” Ace scratched the back of his head trying to make memory of his recent activities, searching for whatever may had upset you

Marco laughed in disbelief “You’re a dead man” he said before taking another sip of his drink

You entered the room, stomping your way to your clueless boyfriend “May I have a word with you?” The tone and the politeness of the sentence made Marco fear for his dear friend. Ace nodded before he stood up and followed behind smile beaming in hopes you’ll have some mercy. A chorus of teasing ‘UUUUH’s were heard as you exited the dining room.

“Have I told you how radiant you look today?” Ace leaned over to kiss your cheek but you ducked making him loose his balance

“Don’t start with me Portgas” a shiver ran down Ace’s back, both from fear and… something else.

“You did this” you held a pillow cover in front of his face “You burned my only bed sheets, and you’re getting me new ones even if you end up in debt with everyone on this ship”

Ace was attracted to you all the time, but there was something in the way you would always stand your ground and how gorgeous you looked right now that was knocking him out of his feet. He placed his hand in the one were you held the pillow cover and pulled you in for a hug

“Im sorry sweetheart I’d get you new ones on the next island, you can borrow mine for now” you rolled your eyes and sighed, he got you wrapped all around his finger and he knew it, you couldn’t be mad at him for long

“Of course I’m taking yours, you sleep at my bed every night anyways… but wash them first” Ace picked you up and pampered your face with kisses “You look so hot when you’re angry

Zoro

“RORONOA ZORO” you screamed while exiting to the deck where he was working out, all of the straw hats looked back at Zoro in fear, Sanji holding in a laugh

Few things made this man flinch but he couldn’t help but catch himself lose balance when he heard his full name exit your lips in such an angry tone followed by your big stumps getting louder as you got closer

Everyone wrapped up whatever they were doing and ran off to the kitchen, leaving Zoro to face his demise alone

“What now?” He played it off trying to sound as nonchalant as he could not even looking your direction

“How many times have I asked you to not leave your sake around my desk?” If looks could kill your boyfriend would be a dead man

“Where am I supposed to put it then?” He scoffed crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked at you for a second and his heart clenched at the cute way your brows furrowed and your arms rested on your hips

“Oh! I don’t know maybe, just getting silly here, IN THE PANTRY WHERE IT BELONGS!” Zoros condecency was driving you insane making your tone scale

The swordsman noticed how you were getting tense and teardrops threaten to run down your cheeks, he sighed a little embarrassed he had made you this upset. He cupped your cheeks while he apologized in that soft tone he reserved just for you

“I’m sorry I forgot to put it away last night, it won’t happen again I promise” he drew comforting circles around your cheek as he whispered

“It got all over my notebooks” oh so that’s why you were so shaken up

“I’ll clean it up baby” your boyfriend kissed your forehead as he made his way to the kitchen for a towel, as he opened the door every crew member fell comically on top of each other, they were ears dropping as they do.

Before Zoro could complain, your sweet laugh was heard at the distance which made him smile a little “You should listen to her mosshead” Sanji muttered which made the swordsman’s smile drop and scream back at him

Sanji

“BLACK LEG SANJI” even though you were screaming at him, the cook couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at the way you wouldn’t use his birth last name as you knew he despised it and what it stand for, instead raging while using his public name.

You stormed in the kitchen eyes fixed on him, even angry Sanji thought you were breathtaking

“Yes my world?” he beamed a smile at you which you didn’t know if it annoyed or charmed you

“What have I said about smoking indoors?” Sanji felt the air get stuck in his throat, his eyes drifted from yours in shame

“I uhm-“ he laughed nervously as you got closer and closer cornering him against the counter, both hands caging him while they rested on said counter

“You know damn well I hate when my clothes smell like cigarettes, now imagine how I feel when my whole room stinks” you grabbed Sanjis tie to move his face closer to yours without breaking eye contact, you knew exactly what to do to make him a nervous wreck

The blondes heart couldn’t help but skip several beats at the way you were acting right now, he felt bad about upsetting you but he could get used to this side of you

“My apologies love, you know I cant manage to go without a smoke and sometimes I don’t want to leave your side” he twitched when his gaze met yours as he tried to explain himself

“Well you better start to manage” with a torturous slow move you took the cigarette that hanged from your boyfriends lips and threw it on the floor before stepping on it to take it out “Or I’ll move out of the room” you smiled teasingly while exploring his handsome features, stopping at his lips.

The cook turned all shades of red and pink breathing heavily, squirming a “Yes ma’m” before you kissed him passionately and breaking it abruptly

You winked at him before leaving the poor poor man absolutely stunted and a hot mess

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Hi! This is my first time doing this type of format so tell me what you think and feel free to request. English is not my first language so correct me if I made any mistakes.

2K notes · View notes

onelittlespiral · 5 months

Note

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

#hypnosis #bro #transformation #musk #preppy tf #jockification #fml #muscle tf #changing #reality change #straight to gay #jock tf

845 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 4 months

Text

SECOND (TO NONE) — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n has spent most of her life loving Jack, only to always come up second to her sister

notes: can you tell i love Little Women? with that being said, i was extremely inspired by THE Laurie and Amy scene in Little Women (2019), therefore, one portion of dialogue in this fic is not my own but instead borrowed from the scene and all credits for that go to Greta Gerwig. (5.3k words)

it started on september 20th, 2017.

how pathetic is that? i remember the exact date that my sister brought home the boy i would fawn over for the rest of my days.

i remember it clear as day, though most of it could be from the long-held sisterly grudge of my sister telling me to take the bus home; she was waiting for a friend and didn’t want me ‘bugging’ them.

at the time, i figured it was one of her girl friends. but merely a few hours later, i would meet Jack Hughes.

that day would be the wrecking ball for the next six years of my life. day in and day out, from the ages of fifteen to twenty-one, if you were to ask me what i was thinking of, or rather who, the answer would always be Jack.

i spent years of my life wasting away in the agony of unrequited love. because while i was pining over him, he was pining over her.

*** May 6th, 2018 ***

my shirt sticks to my chest, raindrops drenching my clothing and my shoes thoroughly soaked from deep puddles. laughing as i reach the front porch, i glance behind me in await of my best friend.

“Spencer, you’re getting soaked!” i state, though i’m sure he’s extremely aware of his own status.

“it’s just water, y/n. it’s not hurting anyone.” i roll my eyes, Spencer’s natural poetic demeanor incredibly unsettling for a seventeen year old boy.

as he meets me on the porch, my hand finds the front doorknob, slinging open the door and stepping into the warm air. my clothes drip onto the entrance rug, Spencer pushing me aside in order to step in and shut the door behind us.

“mom! we’re home!” my voice echoes throughout the house as i slip my wet sandals off, dropping my shopping bags on the entryway table, Spencer following suit.

“she’s not home! she’s having lunch with Ellen!” my sister’s voice calls back, drifting towards me from the living room.

wandering down the hallway towards the living area, i peel Spencer’s US National Development Program sweatshirt over my head, my cream colored shirt rising slightly as it sticks to the wet hoodie.

“you’ll never guess who Spence and i saw at the-” my words fail me as i reach the living room, my sister sat on the couch beside her own best friend.

all too quickly, i’m suddenly self-conscious about my appearance. finding insecurity in the way my hair has frizzed up from the humidity of the day, and the way my saturated clothes stick to my body as though covered in honey.

nestled into Jack’s side, Sara raises an eyebrow towards me, her expression silently ordering me to leave; a stark contrast to that of her close friend, who smiles warmly towards me.

“hey, bug.” Jack grins, his arm slung around my sister’s shoulder and effectively stinging my soul. “sup, Spence?”

my best friend smiles at his teammate, ignoring Sara’s deadly stare and making himself at home on the gray couch.

“hey, Hughesy.” Spencer gives a nod of acknowledgment, “hey, malibu barbie.”

“i have a name, Knight.” Sara hisses, her nose scrunching in disgust towards my friend. “you’re getting the couch wet.”

“mhm.” Spencer mindlessly hums, turning his head to look back at my still motionless figure, “you coming, y/n/n?”

nodding, i join the three of them on the ‘L’ shaped couch.

“hi, Jack.” i can feel my face flush already, blood rising to my cheeks; the most traitorous display of my feelings.

but Jack just smiles, “how was the mall? crowded?”

“no, actually pretty empty for a weekend.” i reply, my voice meek.

Spencer cuts in, sending me an obnoxious and horribly hidden smirk, “should’ve come, Hughesy. you could’ve kept me company while this one tried on all her new pretty clothes.”

if this was my friend’s attempt at helping me, it sure was a sucky one. Sara’s eyes bounce between Jack, Spencer, and, i before she rolls them, announcing her departure to the bathroom. pushing off the couch, she knocks Jack’s arm off of her shoulders, his smile dropping just slightly as she leaves the room.

“kinda wanted to go.” Jack clears his throat, “but Sara wasn’t feeling it.”

now it’s Spencer’s turn to roll his eyes, nodding his head in understanding, “ah yes, and what Sara wants, Sara gets.”

if this were any other context, the months-long feud between my sister and my best friend would be amusing me in the highest degree; but in the moment, all i can feel is the nausea that bubbles up as Jack’s cheeks twinge pink at his teammates teasing.

“shut up, Spence.” he mutters, eyes flickering back towards me, slightly widened as if he just remembered i was there, “maybe you should do a fashion show for us, bug. Sara’s told me you used to do them for her when you get new clothes, let us see ‘em!”

the cadence in which he speaks, though i know it’s not his intention, makes me feel small. like i’m a child and not only one year younger than him. and yet, the idea that he wants to see me model all of my new clothes makes my heart flutter in my chest; nearly pounding against the bars of the cage i keep it in, wanting nothing more than for me to confess my feelings right then and there on the fabric couch of my living room, a rom-com, annoyingly fitting of the moment, paused on the tv, and my best friend sat right beside me.

“she told you that?”

“yeah,” his brows furrow, “she tells me plenty of stories of when you guys were younger. i love that she loves you.”

right. this is about her, not me.

i smile halfheartedly as Sara walks back into the room, taking her place back on the couch and underneath Jack’s arm.

for a moment, i wonder if he would still be so smitten if he knew that she doesn’t look at him the way that i do… the way that he looks at her. if he would still pine after her and bend to her will if he knew that she had been going on dates with one of the boys on the soccer team, and that she looked at him with stars in her eyes, the same way Jack looks at her. if he would still look past me, still think of me as nothing more than Sara’s little sister, if he knew she had no intentions to ever make something more of their friendship.

would he move on from her? look for someone else to give his affection to? and would i be wildly insane to wonder if it would be me?

“i actually think i’ll pass,” i finally speak again, a lovelorn quirk to my lips, “don’t want Sara getting any ideas to steal any of my new clothes.”

my sister laughs, eyes twinkling as she winks at me, “i’ll see them next time i go shopping in your closet, don’t worry.”

a small flash of disappointment shines through in Jack’s beautiful blue eyes before he nods, “alright, maybe next time.”

*** January 8th, 2023 ***

“Jack!” my voice carries over the noise of a crowded shoe store in New York City, pushing my way through the people as i watch Jack’s head whip around in confusion. “Jack!”

his eyes scan the store, only landing upon me once i’ve finally made my way through the gaggle of people, now a mere few feet from him.

a bright grin spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, “bug!”

his laugh permeates my ears as i launch myself at him, arms latching around his shoulders and making him teeter in place before finding his core balance, his arms spindling around my waist.

“what are you doing here?” he questions as we pull away, his hands still resting on my waist.

“in a shoe store, or in New York?”

“New York, obviously.” he chuckles.

“girls trip! we were bored out of our minds and decided to spend a couple weeks here.” i explain, craning my neck to see if i can spot my friends in the hectic store.

“we?” he repeats, “is…”

my smile dims at his forlorn yet hopeful expression, shaking my head, “oh, no. she’s not here.”

“i came with some friends.” i tell him and he nods, letting out a seemingly relieved breath. “i’m sorry again, Jack. i can’t believe she-”

“let’s not.” he interjects, “if that’s okay? i’d rather not talk about it.”

i agree, my sisters final rejection of him being the last thing on the list of topics i’d like to discuss with my unrequited teenage love.

“who’s this?” someone cuts in, a hand slapping down on Jack’s shoulder. the new guest has a heavy accent, a neat scruff adorning his face… he’s cute.

“oh, Neeks, this is bug, or sorry, y/n.” Jack’s hands drop from my waist, a long-familiar shiver running through me at the loss of his touch. turning partly towards his friend, Jack’s face brightens again. “y/n, this is my captain, Nico.”

“y/n,” Nico parrots, “you’re Sara’s sister, right?”

it takes everything in me not to cringe, having worked so hard to make myself into my own person now; no longer used to being known as ‘Sara’s sister’ like i was in school.

“yeah.” i sigh, nodding my head, “that’s me.”

i should’ve known better than to think i could be my own person when it comes to Jack. that i could be someone more than the girl who used to follow he and my sister around everywhere.

even with Jack’s new friends, ones that have no connection to me or Sara, i’m still just the little sister of the girl who broke his heart.

“she’s not just Sara’s sister.” Jack tells his captain. he slings an arm around my shoulder, that once disappeared flutter reappearing in my chest, “this girl is the best friend of Spencer Knight and Cole Caufield. she used to go everywhere with us.”

and just like that, the flutter is gone, died out in a sudden burst of flames.

Jack looks down at me, “have you spoken to them recently?”

“yeah.” i force a smile. “i speak to them almost every day.”

“sorry to cut the reunion short, but Jack, we have to go soon.” Nico speaks, gaining Jack’s attention again, “it was nice to meet you, y/n. hopefully i’ll see you again.”

Jack backs away, looking at me again, “text me! you should come to the lake house this summer!”

*** June 20th, 2024 ***

last summer, i spent two weeks of July at the Hughes lake house; my days filled by boating, tanning, and golfing; my nights consisting of bonfires and bars.

it was nice, being surrounded by people i’ve known since high school. i had even convinced Spencer to join me on the trip, though he ended up staying longer than i did.

i felt like those two weeks really helped me solidify myself as more than just ‘Sara’s sister’ to the guys, which provided me with a sense of closure with Jack.

no longer was my mind plagued of thoughts about him anymore. my nights no longer accompanied by dreams of the sweet, blue-eyed boy that i so desperately loved in high school. i felt free.

for the first time since i met him, i was able to date without holding out an unrealistic hope that he would randomly tell me he loved me back.

not long after returning home from the lake house, i met Ryan; a lawyer who knew nothing about the hockey world, which i felt was exactly what i needed.

he asked me out and for once in my life, i was able to say yes without feeling guilty. without feeling like somehow i was cheating on my unrequited love. i was finally able to move on from high school love, for the most part.

on our first few dates, i opened up to Ryan; i told him all about how inexperienced i really was with the dating scene and exactly why. i told him about my six years of unreturned love for my sisters ex-best friend. i told him that i was still friends with him but that i felt that love was in the past. and he was okay with it, he was understanding and sincere and he wanted to be the one i moved on with.

within a few months, i was moved in with Ryan, and now here we are, only a month short of our one year anniversary.

only an hour ago, i arrived to the lake house for the second summer in a row. this time, for a full month of relaxation and catching up with friends. Ryan would meet me here for the last week of my month, it not being quite as easy for him to get away from work as it is for me, and i can’t wait to introduce him to the friends who made high school so easy for me.

“y/n!” my peaceful tanning takes a turn when most of the guys arrive back from the grocery store, Trevor appearing to be the most excited to see me.

my eyelids peel open, hand rising to flick my sunglasses to the top of my head as i look over at the hyper hockey player, “hi, Trev.”

his hands slip into mine, helping me up from the lounge chair in order to sweep me into a tight hug.

“how’s life been?” he grins, pulling back and slinging his arm around my shoulder as he guides us into the house.

i can hear the ruckus of rowdy boys from outside, though that’s not at all shocking, in my experience.

“it’s been great.” my mind flickers to my boyfriend, the one who texted me merely thirty minutes ago to make sure i made it here safe, promising to call me when he gets his lunch break, “really great.”

at my pink cheeks and surely dopey smile, Trevor guffaws, pinching my cheek as we step into the house, “did our little bug get a boyfriend?!”

the house goes silent, Trevor’s voice bouncing off the walls and echoing through the downstairs.

“i’m not little.” i mumble, effectively embarrassed by the overwhelming reaction to the news, “i’m only a year younger than you.”

Cole and Spencer are the only two who already knew of the progression in my dating life, being the two people i talk to the most.

“you have a boyfriend?” a voice chimes from my left, and i look over to find Jack, his face soft and his hands full of grocery bags.

i bite back a smile, suddenly feeling hot under all their gazes. nodding, i speak again, “yeah, his name is Ryan. he’s the plus-one i asked about.”

“he’s here?!” Trevor shouts in exasperation.

i giggle, shaking my head at the way the guys all start looking around, all but Jack, “no! he’s coming in a few weeks! he can’t get off work so easily.”

Trevor drags me to the couch, Jack’s eyes following me as he sets the groceries on the table, slowly dragging his feet behind everyone towards the living room.

“what does he do?” “how old is he?” “is he treating you right?” “is he a hockey fan?” “is he hot?”

my brows furrow at the last question thrown at me, looking at Alex in bewilderment, “what? i feel like it’s a good question.”

a hearty laugh drops from my lips, lowering myself to the couch in preparation to answer their many questions.

“he’s a lawyer, he’s twenty-nine, he treats me amazingly, he’s not a hockey fan, and i think he’s pretty hot.”

a collective gasp is heard around the room, my friends looking at me in utter disbelief, “he’s not a hockey fan?”

Cole shudders, as if the idea is the worst thing possible, “you left that out.”

“i couldn’t have you hating on him!” i shout in defense. my eyes scan the room of guys, finally landing on Jack, who stands in the entrance of the room, his hands in his pockets and his lips downturned.

“is that really what you guys are focusing on?” he scoffs and my eyebrows pinch in confusion at his sour mood, “he’s seven years older than her, and you guys are more worried about the fact that he doesn’t like hockey?”

a small part of me feels like a teenager again, honored that he’s so worried about me, but a much larger part of me is offended for both me and my boyfriend.

“i’m an adult, Jack. i can make my own decisions and i’m very aware of Ryan and i’s age gap, but if i’m not uncomfortable with it then why should you be?”

Jack raises a brow at my spiteful tone, clearly not used to having it used on him, “i’ve known you for nearly seven years, bug. i’m just looking out for you.”

“well don’t,” i sneer, “i didn’t ask for you to look out for me. it’s not your job.”

the other boys squirm amidst the tension between Jack and i, Quinn the first to speak up again.

“so, how serious are you guys?”

Quinn’s question gathers my attention again, butterflies swarming in my stomach as i remember a moment just a couple weeks ago.

“i think he’s gonna propose soon.” i confess, my face burning as Spencer lets out an ‘ooooh!’

“i found a ring in his nightstand drawer a few weeks ago, i think he might do it on our anniversary.”

Cole reacts first, pulling me in for a hug as the others cheer out a premature ‘congratulations’, only one member of the group staying silent. but when i look back at the living room entrance, Jack is gone.

“i think this calls for some boating!” Trevor sings out, already jumping up from his seat to go get changed.

“you just want an excuse to go out on the boat!” Luke yells, Trevor nodding in agreement as he disappears up the stairs.

after an entire week of boating, wakesurfing, and golfing, we end our sunday night around a bonfire.

orange flames lick at the air, the added heat making the summer night sweltering. yet, most of us can be found sitting around the fire pit, enjoying each other’s company.

“dude, she wasn’t flirting with you.” Cole yells across the blazing fire to Trevor, who’s still convinced the girl he met this afternoon was hitting on him.

“she so was!” Trevor huffs, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

almost everyone rolls their eyes, the rest of us knowing the girl was incredibly uninterested in the hyperactive twenty-three year old.

“y/n, she was flirting with me, right?!” Trevor turns to me, eyes wide in await of my agreement, but it never comes.

scrunching my nose, my head shakes in denial, making him groan.

“the only other girl has spoken… that was not flirting!” Spencer announces, “better luck next time, Z.”

“i don’t think y/n would know flirting if it hit her in the face. she doesn’t count.” Jack laughs, raising his beer up to his lips as he smirks at my offended expression.

“i have a boyfriend! i know what flirting looks like!”

“a soon to be fiancé.” Alex wiggles his eyebrows, shimmying his shoulders in a teasing manner as he stands up, “i’m heading inside, it’s too hot out here.”

a few others mutter in agreement, rising from their chairs and following him into the house, leaving just me, Spencer, and Jack.

i sit in silence, watching the flames as the two boys converse, not yet ready to head inside. instead, i’m pulled off in my own thoughts, my mind twisting as i think of this past week.

i thought Jack and i were fine. he said last summer that he didn’t hold my sisters rejection against me, but now i’m wondering if he was lying. ever since i’ve arrived, he’s been nothing but cold shouldered and a bit bitter towards me.

but the oddest part is that it hurts me more than i’d like it to. it feels like my teenage years all over again, vying for his attention and affections, desperate for him to love me. i thought i was over this unreciprocated love, but now here i am again, my only comfort being the knowledge that Jack doesn’t love me like that, but i have someone back home who does.

Spencer’s lips press to the crown of my head, pulling my head out of my thoughts.

“i’m heading inside.” he tells me, earning a nod of acknowledgment from me as i tell him i’ll probably be in soon.

and then there were two.

Jack and i sit in silence for a while, neither of us daring to break the peace as we admire the fire. i push up from my seat, stepping a bit closer to the fire pit in order to watch the orange burn of the logs.

“don’t marry him.”

my head snaps over to Jack, his eyes now glued to me as my face contorts in confusion.

“what?” i gawk.

“don’t marry him.” he repeats, finally standing from his chair.

“why?”

“why?” he scoffs, “you know why.”

my mind is racing, my heart beating wildly in my chest as i turn to face him completely.

“no.” i shake my head, realization settling deep within the pits of my stomach, “no.”

“yes.” he steps closer, a mere 5 feet from me now, and i instinctively take a step back.

all week he’s been sour towards me and i’ve wondered what it meant, and now i know. he’s upset.

upset with me for finding someone else.

“no. Jack, you’re being mean.” i frown. old feelings rise inside of me, nausea plaguing me as tears spring to my eyes, and Jack closes up the space between us, his hand grasping my arm lightly, “stop it, stop it!”

“what? how am i being mean?” he mumbles, brows threading together as i shake off his touch.

“i have been second to Sara my whole life. in everything!” i cry lightly, “and i will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her.”

i step away, slowly backing up towards the house, still facing the man who held my heart for so long, only now wanting me when i’m finally taken.

“i won’t-” i stutter, gasping for breath, “i won’t do it. i won’t. not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

Jack’s lips part as he stands in place, as if shocked. as though he wasn’t expecting such an easy confession to tumble from my lips.

“you just-” i sigh, tears spilling over my waterline as i freeze, the joints of my thumbs being pressed to my eyes in attempt to stop my crying, “why don’t you want me to be happy, Jack?

“i spent six years pining for you. i would’ve done anything to get you to love me. and all you wanted was her! and i don’t hate you for that, i can’t be mad at you, you can’t help who you love; but now that i’ve tried to move on, you want to tell me that i shouldn’t marry him? you don’t even love me!”

anger bubbles within me at the audacity that he holds, my hand flying between us in emphasis of my emotions.

“yes, i do!” he spits back, stepping towards me, “don’t tell me what i feel! just because i may not have felt it back then doesn’t mean i can’t feel it now!”

“you only want me because you can’t have her!” i argue.

“you keep saying that but that’s not true! and no matter how many times you say it, it’s not just gonna magically become true, y/n!

“maybe you want to be right because it would make this easier on you. but the truth is that spending time with you without Sara around just gave me the opportunity to get to know the real you. and yes, maybe i didn’t love you like this then, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that i love you now.”

his chest heaves as he closes the space between us once more, staring down at me the exact way that i’ve looked at him all these years; like i’m the only person in the world for him. like i hung the stars in the sky to shine just for him. like i hold his heart in my hands, the fate of his existence weighing in my decisions.

“i love the way you smile and the way that you speak so softly.” he whispers breathily, “i love seeing you in your glasses late at night, and the fact that somehow you’re always cold. i love your kind heart and the way that you care about everyone you meet, so easily. i love your smart mind and the fact that even though you know you’re smarter than literally everyone here, you don’t show it off or make us feel dumb. instead, you correct us lightly, even if it’s Trevor being stubborn and insisting he’s right.”

i let out a raspy chuckle at his words, tears still silently falling down my cheeks.

“i love your determination and that when you set your mind to something, you achieve it. i love your good and even what you say are your flaws. i love you, y/n. and i’m sorry that i didn’t see it before. tell me to back off and i will. tell me you choose him and i’ll leave you alone, i won’t push it. but i needed to tell you how i feel before it was too late.”

he finally ends his speech, his eyes flickering between my own and my lips.

my mind feels numb yet entirely too full with this new knowledge, and i can’t process it all with him staring at me expectantly.

“can i think about this? please?” i question, pulling away, “this is a lot for me to process right now and i need some time, Jack.

“i spent so long trying to get over you. i thought you would never like me the way that i like you, and now you’re telling me this and i have to make a decision and i just-”

“of course.” Jack cuts me off, nodding, “take however long you need. i don’t want you to feel rushed; really think about it, bug. i don’t want you to choose me just because you feel like you have to. if you want him, then choose him. but if you want me, i’m here. i’m telling you that i love you and i want you, and i’ll wait however long you need.”

i nod, turning and finally walking into the house, hands swiftly wiping at my cheeks to try and get rid of my tears before i reach the door, but it’s useless. just as fast as i wipe the old tears, new ones follow.

“and i— y/n, you okay?” Luke asks, stopping his story to the guys as i rush through the living room and towards the stairs.

i stop at the first step, sniffling but not turning to face them, “yeah, i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

a chorus of ‘goodnight’s are shouted my way as i ascend the stairs, shutting myself in my bedroom and locking the door.

crumpling to the bed, my tears won’t stop, heavy sobs wracking my chest.

hours pass by slowly until it’s eight in the morning, my body exhausted and aching from tossing and turning all night. i couldn’t shut my mind off, no matter how hard i tried.

i feel so conflicted, my heart being pulled into two directions, but i know that one direction is stronger than the other.

no matter how hard i tried to move on, i should’ve known that there was no ‘moving on’ from Jack. those feelings would always linger, still hidden under the guise of closure and friendship.

Jack is my home. my heart will always lie with him, no matter how long passes or who i meet.

my thumb hovers over Ryan’s contact, shaking but otherwise frozen, my body overwhelmed with anxiety at what might await me at the other end of the phone call.

the dial tone rings out, my cellphone now being pressed to my ear as i await the greeting from the other side.

“hey, babe. i was just about to call you.”

“you were?” my tone is raspy and low, my throat sore from crying.

“yeah, somethings come up. i don’t think i can make it on the trip like we planned.” a sense of relief fills me at his words.

“oh, that’s okay. i actually think i’m gonna come back early.” i tell him, my eyes staring straight ahead of me at my half packed suitcase.

“why’s that?”

“i think we need to talk.” i confess, pressure building back up on my chest as i think about the conversation awaiting me back home.

Ryan sighs gently and i can hear some papers being shuffled around, the creak of a door shutting before he speaks again.

“did you sleep with him?”

“what?” i’m appalled, my lips parted in disbelief.

“Jack. did you sleep with him?” he wonders so easily, like he just assumed it would happen.

“no!” i scoff.

“then it’s okay.” he replies, and though i don’t know how he would know, i can tell; he knows what i have to tell him. “i expected it. i really liked you, and i know you really liked me, but i’ve known from the start that i couldn’t compare to him.

“you may have have liked me, but you love him.” he tells me, “i just hope he doesn’t take you for granted, because you deserve the best. and if he is that for you, then i’m happy for you. but if he treats you like anything less… don’t settle, y/n.”

just when i had thought i had nothing left to give, more tears run down my rose tinted cheeks, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.” he’s stern with his words, showing me he means them, “i assume he told you how he feels?”

“yeah.” i sigh, “he loves me.”

“then don’t be sorry. you deserve to love and to be loved.”

“thank you.”

he mutters a goodbye, the call ending, and i feel a sense of determination flood through my veins.

rising off my bed, i fling open my bedroom door, stomping down the steps until i reach the kitchen, where i can hear the boys discussing the plan for the day.

at my whirlwind arrival, the boys silence, watching me with baited breath and curious eyes as i stalk towards Jack, who stands frozen at the counter.

“what’s going o-” Trevor’s words are quieted by the sound of my hand smacking against Jack’s cheek. the boys gasping at my action before Trevor begins to laugh.

“that’s for waiting so long.” i huff and Jack nods robotically.

“so i’m guessing that’s a no?” he wonders, voice solemn, as though accepting defeat.

“shut up.” i whisper.

my hands glide over his shoulders, wrapping around the nape of his neck as i pull him down towards me, crashing my lips upon his in a bruising kiss.

“oh!” “what the fuck!”

our friends reactions are thoroughly ignored, Jack’s hands coming to rest on my waist, his fingers gripping into my hips as he deepens the kiss. his tongue slides past my parted lips, but i pull away before we can get any farther in front of our friends.

“and that’s my decision.” i whisper, a beautiful smile spreading across his lips, “don’t make me regret it.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it, bug.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

1K notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

Text

HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO | PART 2

⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)

⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.

all sexual content present in this part.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF NONCON, COERCION, AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE.

⊹ wc ; 18.4k / 36.1k

link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.

LINK TO PART ONE.

⊹ a/n ; here's part two!! miss ame has read it so im all good to post. i will upload to ao3 as soon as im awake i promise lol. hope you enjoy the fic and please heed the tags. likes and rbs always appreciated. also the last part is, relatively tame. the crazy gets amped up to ten so be careful.

⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.

"You must learn, once you have sampled the freedom of a life without a chain, that it is better to return and be chained again. Or you may learn that it is not—a fugitive is also a kind of dog." - andrew kane, how to be a dog.

⊹ PART TWO : SOMETHING TAKEN IS BORROWED. SOMETHING RUINED IS YOURS.

Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white.

Gojo Satoru sits on his hands and watches the blizzard outside from his window. His apartment is dark and there’s frost on his window. He can hear the wind from inside, and can feel the cold chill of glass as he stands close to it.

Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white. Spring feels like an innocent century ago.

Nothing’s changed, but everything is different. It’s starting to feel comedic. It’s so cyclical. He has two states of being. Being with you, and not. It dictates his internal world. He functions the same as usual. Repetition. Working, coming home, and waiting.

Gojo feels like he’s waiting. Perpetually waiting for time to set again so he can see you. There’s something in him only you can fulfill - an itch only you can scratch. Gojo is drawn to irreplaceable people, so perhaps it’s no surprise that he’s latched onto you this way.

There’s nothing to call it other than greed. Sometimes love, but mostly greed. A habit he can’t break free from. Gojo wants to see you. He doesn’t know why either. There’s not any particular reason. Or if there is, he hasn’t examined it too deeply. Gojo has always known in some innate way that he’s lonely. That his loneliness makes him untouchable - but not in the same way it might make a God.

The thought of doing anything without you makes paranoia creep up in his throat like bile. Gojo is that sort of lonely. Is it too much to ask to be next to someone, who never goes anywhere he can’t see? Monopolizing your time and all the ways to do it best take up most of his energy.

When was the last time anyone made him feel warm, in the cold white of winter? He thinks maybe he realized it too late, that he cares about you this much.

The reality is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are better off learning how to cut their losses. You love people and they die. You like people and they die. Gojo doesn’t think he can accept that from you so easily. He doesn’t think he should have too.

Does he need a good reason to want to keep you?

Gojo doesn’t want to make you hate him. He just wants to make sure you’re alive even if it means you might hate him. You might never understand either. Because you are still foolish, naive and human. Is that really asking for so much?

It makes him hesitate from the call to action. That instinct in his bones. He sees having met you as a blessing from the Heavens who’ve banished him. Gojo Satoru is not god. He understands God, but he’s not God.

No matter how much Gojo reaches for omnipotence, his long fingers can’t stretch towards it. Godliness is uninhabitable, an abandoned house. If Gojo casts his eyes on you for more than one second, he can do nothing but long. How can God long? Perhaps if he were more godlike, he could treat your inevitable death like a sacrifice. A martyrdom, or proof of your undying love for him.

Despite that, he understands how God's love can reach. Inciting violence to bring you closer to him is merciful. It’s only then you’ll come to understand it to the highest extent. That Gojo loves you after all, more than anything mortal in his world. He can hold all of you in his hands, keep you safe for the rest of your life. It’s what he wants so badly. If you just give him the chance to protect you - he could do it so easily.

Religion can be so much like a dog and its master. Maybe, you could understand Gojo’s feelings if you saw it as an animal instinct to protect you. Even if it’s a falsity, a fictitious tale, detached from what's true.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. He’s your watch dog, your keeper, your divine love. He needs you all to himself and he needs you to understand that you’re his reprieve. That in a universe decided by fate, the two of you are also red strings knotted together perversely.

He needs you. He needs you. He needs you.

Snow is falling.

Come Saturday, Gojo receives a knock on his door.

He’s usually sleeping in on the weekends, so he’s startled by it. School doesn’t start till later and if it was an emergency relating to sorcery - Yagi would’ve dialed him personally. He answers the door with sleep still in his, rubbing his eyelids as he yawns. He’s dressed in his P.J.’s with his hair messy and mind jumbled.

He’s not unhappy though, when he opens the door up to see you. You’ve got something in your arms, a bag it looks like and a look on your face that Gojo can’t decipher.

“Oh,” He says after registering who he’s talking to you “What’re you doing here so early?”

You sigh, deeply, rubbing your arm. That anxious little habit again, your eyes darting every which way.

“A pipe broke in my apartment. Like, flooded the whole thing. Spent the whole morning scrounging my stuff together a-and I called maintenance but they won’t be here for a while and.” You stutter as you explain yourself and Gojo stares at you in confusion “I need a place to stay but going back to my parents right now is gonna be so hard and plus there’s work,”

Gojo soothes you silently, putting a hand up.

“Hey, calm down,” He says first, smiling up at you. He reaches out to pat your head “I’m here. It’s okay. Slow down and tell me what's wrong?”

You sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself.

“Would it be alright if I stayed with you? Just for a few days, until I figure this all out?”

If God exists, maybe this is his way of giving Gojo grace. Gojo takes a minute to pretend, leans against his door frame and watches you fidget anxiously. He blinks at you, the way your teeth are pressing into your lip. You fold underneath the pressure of his gaze easily. He hums and haws.

“Hm,” He says, leaving you uncertain for as long as he can before you try to react. He’s memorized all your tells by heart “Well, there’s no reason not to, right? You’ll have to sleep in my bed though.”

He half-jokes, but not really. He waits on your reaction.

“Oh, uhm, then,”

He interrupts just then, raising his voice. You jump back.

“Just kidding! Of course you can stay with me. I’ll take the couch for a few days so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Stay as long as you like.”

You look relieved. It makes Gojo smile a bit watching you take a deep breath, leaning on the door frame as he stares.

“What?” You ask when you notice. He shakes his head.

“It’s cute when you get nervous,” He says, inhibitions lowered. You pout at him and Gojo has to stop himself from reaching forward to grab your face in his hands.

“You’re so mean,” You say with a sigh, arms crossed over your chest “I was really freaking out just now,”

“I know, I know - but it’s kinda fun watching you fuss. Dunno. Maybe it’s cause I’m sleepy,”

“You're wide awake right now!” You point out. He snorts.

“Noo, what? I’m half-asleep right now,”

“Gojo,” You whine, and he has to stop the blood rushing through his body “Let me in? Please?”

“Try Satoru. Sa-to-ru,” He says. You frown at him, sighing as you rub your face.

“Satoru,” You say, hardly getting the syllables out “L-let me in,”

He pats your head one more time as your frown deepens.

“Good girl,” He purrs, before switching his tone to a more lax one as he welcomes you “Come on in!”

Another sigh of relief. Gojo finds it fascinating that you can find relief in his presence. It speaks to how well he’s been doing to make sure he’s acting in accordance to expectations. Despite how easy the opportunity has fallen into him, he doesn’t think it’s time yet. You’re still skittish.

Still, he should get something out of your stay here. And he will, but he should let you settle in first. He gives you a hum as you shuffle inside, standing awkwardly in his living room. He shuts the door behind you and locks it up.

“Don’t be so stiff,” He says, waving a hand in the air before yawning “My home is your home. Be comfortable. Is there anything you need or wanna do?”

“Could I borrow your shower?”

Gojo feels something pressing into his ribs at the idea of you using his things - sharp and sinful.

“I was gonna shower this morning but, y’know.” You gesture vaguely. He’s quick to agree of course, nodding his head as he points in the general direction of the bathroom.

“Pretty sure our places are built the same so you should know where it is. The towels on the rack are all clean. Feel free to use anything in there and uhhh,” He scratches his head unsure of what else he needs to add. Though he’s certain he’s missing something “Oh, and I’ll give you some clothes,”

You flush at the sentiment. So maybe you do know what this seems like, at least on the surface. Gojo peers at you as you turn his words over, interjecting before you have a chance to refuse.

“Don’t say no,” He says, voice sing-songy. watching your expression morph into something nervous again. Maybe you caught it, because you certainly jump in your skin, but he switches into himself with ease. Over and over and over - startling you never gets less fun “Let me play out my domestic fantasies a bit as compensation,”

“That’s a bad joke,” You say, throat thick.

You want to trust him don’t you? He wants to praise you for that.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s lonely. Let me indulge a little,” He begs with enough lightheartedness that you don’t run away.

“Geez. I thought you were popular with the ladies,” You try and joke back, though it’s stilted and awkward. He can tell you’re getting prepared to squeeze to the bathroom before the conversation is too much.

“Old ladies do love me,” He says contemplative. You elbow him lightly.

“Stupid.”

He gives you a soft smile as you pass by him.

“Is there anything else that you need while you’re in there?”

“I don’t think so,” You reply back. Gojo watches you disappear into the hall, trailing after you silently. He waits, listening carefully for the sound of the shower to turn on.

When the water rushes, he follows you.

He almost has a conscious standing in front of the closed door. The water pressure in his apartment is a little higher than it’s supposed to be. The closed walls keep all the noise inside them, making it almost impossible to hear what’s going on outside. Even with heightened senses like him.

For someone like you, it’s probably impossible.

It’s knowing that he follows behind you, lying in wait. He counts up to 5 minutes as he waits, letting you settle into it before he puts his hand on the door knob. He finds it unlocked. He’s pleased with that.

You trust him, or you try too.

When he feels certain you’re relaxed, he opens the door. He could teleport in but it’s noisy. Steam plumes outward as the door opens. He looks around the bathroom. Your clothes are folded neatly, with your pants hanging on the rack next to you.

He stares at the fabric for a long time, contemplating what he has time for.

Ultimately, he suppresses whatever urges come up to do what he came for. Too many to count and even more that are risky to act on. Instead, he checks the tags of each piece, committing it to memory. After, he stares at the shower curtain until he’s sure he overstayed his welcome.

He leaves right after though, shutting the door just as quietly as he opened it.

The less you know the better. Gojo makes his way back into the living room.

He sits on his couch when he’s back. The sun hasn’t come up yet and he’s only turned on a single lamp for light. It’s hard for him to describe how he’s feeling. Things have been different for weeks now, but proceeding normally hasn’t caused him too many issues. Strangely the sense of routine has been grounding.

He’s been dealing with it better than he expected. For all of that restraint to unravel so quickly is funny.

But, Gojo thinks, that everything leading up to now must’ve been a sign. There are so many instances that befall him that feel aligned with fate. He’s naive in thinking you're different. He’s the only heir of the Gojo clan, the only one with the Six Eyes for nearly 400 years. He hears the water rush faintly through the walls of his apartment, picturing you trapped in those four walls. He thinks of how you met. Your proximity to each other.

It’s only now and in such circumstances does he think that you’re the due that the universe is paying back to him. Robbed of everything, of every joy he’s ever had - it’s both righteous and fair to take you. Gojo doesn’t want you to hate him. Not necessarily.

But they always say in sickness and in health. Through the best of times and the worst. If you were made for him like he suspects (like he knows, believes deep down) then he thinks it’ll be fine. As long as it's you. As long as it’s yours. Even if you cry or scream, what matters to Gojo is that it’s yours. That he’s yours.

Holding back is starting to be too much. Gojo’s never been the type to sit on his hands and wait. Being scared is so much like starving. Deprivation like that always threatens to turn Gojo to ruin.

But like anything he does though, he can’t take the easy way out. There’s a method to the madness. An order even among his most disorderly actions, there’s things that need to be done the right way for the best possible outcome. On less of a whim than it seems, Gojo decides that he’ll do his best to make that reality happen.

The thought settles in his body and suddenly he’s present again. He feels a pang of hunger in his stomach, causing him to stand to his feet. He feels lighter as he waltzes into the kitchen, whistling to himself on what he should make. Maybe crepes? He’s not a skilled cook but he’s pretty good at making those.

At the very least, he thinks you’ll like them too. He proceeds into a normal-ish routine. He follows the motions of making breakfast as he hums to himself silently. Grabs a bowl from the cupboard, eggs and milk from the fridge, and flour from the pantry.

He thinks to himself, immersing himself in the practical ritual. His comment from earlier about domestic fantasies was a half-joke at best. Gojo really does want to do this kind of thing with you, and he doesn’t want to miss the opportunity to play the part either. Even if it’s temporary. He’s giddy at the thought of doing this with you everyday, a warm fluttery feeling spreading through his body.

He grabs a whisk off of the wall as he dumps everything into an empty bowl, turning the heat of a non-stick low. He whistles a song he can’t remember the name of, cracking an egg on the metal edge.

Despite living in a nicer part of Tokyo, Gojo has yet to have an induction stove top. It’s not uncommon to have gas for smaller, cheaper apartments. Most of the stovetops in the Jujutsu Tech dorms are gas and Gojo has no issue using them. He doesn’t cook for himself often in the first place, so he’s never thought to complain about it or get it changed.

Maybe he should. Once you live here, it might get inconvenient. The thing about gas stoves is that they never heat evenly. It’s not impossible to work with, and the heat is easier to control - but induction lets every inch of the pan get hot the same way.

( He often thinks of the analogy for boiling a frog. If you put anything living in heat too directly, it’ll jump to save itself. But if you keep the heat tepid, gently raising the heat till it boils - it’ll let itself stay in the treacherous waters until the very end. It’s best to keep the heat even. It’s best to fix it sometime soon. )

The whisk makes a pleasant sound as it hits the bowl, metallic scratch softened by the presence of batter. He picks the whisk up and watches the yellow liquid drip off the edge, a hand over the pan. Still too cool to the touch, he clicks his teeth.

He waits, idly. The shower turns off, he hears, and feels his breath hitch. He has to steel himself, curb his enthusiasm.

Too much heat, and you’ll jump to save yourself.

Once the pan is hot enough, Gojo busies himself with cooking. It helps him distract himself, the monotony of pouring and flipping and waiting. He gets through almost 6 before he hears your feet pad gently across his hardwood floor, slipping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your neck.

You’re wearing what seems like the only clothes you managed to bring. Gojo wonders how long it’ll last you. Despite it, he notices the way you smell. How you smell like all of his fancy bath products and soaps. There’s a twitch in his sweats that he barely gets under control. He lowers the heat and turns to you.

“Morning,” He says. You giggle a little.

“Morning. Are you making breakfast?”

“Yes ma'am. The only thing I know how to make but,” He puffs his chest up “Pretty good, I’m told.”

You roll your eyes at him, but smile anyway

“Guess I’ll be the judge of that,”

“The audacity,” He says, full of theatrics “I’ll knock your socks off,”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” You say, flippant and giggly. Gojo decides then, maybe, in its entirety. That he’ll have all of you and soon “Can I help with anything?”

“Get started on some coffee maybe,”

You nod your head and yawn.

“Sounds good to me,”

You decide to stay for a week.

More precisely, Gojo convinces you to stay for a week. That’s how long it will take for your apartment to get fixed completely. Concerned about inconveniencing him, you initially suggested 3 days - insisted you could find somewhere else or pay for a hotel for the rest of the time.

But Gojo insisted too. A week is more than fine (even longer would be better) and there’s no reason for you to go out of your way. Hotels are expensive, your parents live out in the countryside, and it’s not like you can’t board with a friend for a few days right?

But won’t that trouble you? Of course not. Gojo doesn’t mind at all. It’s like having a week-long sleep-over.

I don’t have the stuff I need. That’s fine. Gojo can take care of it. He already bought some clothes for you, an act of kindness. He can get the rest too. You can consider it a favor, if you really want to be sure.

Are you sure? Of course he’s sure. More than sure. You’re doing him a big favor, he assures with nothing but affection. Being alone at home is pretty boring, anyways. What’s sleeping in the same room when we’re neighbors?

Even with your unease, you agree to stay the whole week. You’re weak to being convinced, and hard-pressed on not fighting about things Gojo is adamant on.

(He’d be stupid not to notice how your earnesty makes you easy to exploit. It’s a good thing it’s only Gojo who knows.)

The first day passes quietly. You and Gojo go to your respective jobs and greet each other when you get home. At home, things are simple. Domestic. There’s no other way to view it. You graded papers and looked over lesson plans in the living room while Gojo got in his daily sets - TV playing in the background with neither of you particularly tuned in. Gojo sleeps on the couch.

(He doesn’t make it a day without touching himself. The proximity is too much, too stimulating, and even with all of the restraint in the universe - it’s hard for him to stave it off. What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Alone under the moon, he thinks of what you look like when you’re embarrassed and spills into his hand.

Eventually, he’ll graduate to watching over you. You leave the door unlocked because you’re naive and Gojo stands with his cock in his fist, watching intently. You squirm in your sleep but you sleep deeply - because despite all the noise, you don’t stir one even once. He stops it from touching you, so close to your mouth, to your skin. )

On the second day of living together, the clothes Gojo bought you come to his door. You’re not home when it arrives, so he waits until you are home to open it with you. You come home a little later than usual (parent-teacher conferences, apparently).

(“I have a surprise for you!” Gojo says, as finally comes back into the living room. You’ve returned from your shower, on your last pair of PJ’s. You blink at him softly, tilting your head to one side as he hands you a package.

“For me?” You ask. Gojo nods, grinning.

“For you,” He confirms. He walks with you as you set the box onto the coffee table. You stare at it for a minute, glancing up at Gojo. Your eyes search for your keys. Once you find them, you take the sharpest key and rip through the tape on the top of its sides. An unceremonious krrk sounds through the room, echoing in the dimly lit living room.

The clothes are wrapped in white, plastic packaging. You pick them individually, examining them closely. You look at Gojo again, more uncertain than before.

But Gojo shakes his head, nudging you towards opening the packages themselves. A promise to explain afterwards, silent in the air. You nod, confused, but do as he suggests. You rip the top open, dropping the thin plastic onto the table. More bags, this time clear. You repeat the action until the material flounces in your hands. You undo the careful folding for a minute, then stare at it.

“...Clothes?” You repeat.

“Surprise!” He says with his usual silly cadence “For you, free of charge.”

A lot of things pass over your expression. Gojo watches each of them carefully, amused. He wonders what you’ll do. What you’re thinking, it’s a shame Gojo can’t read your mind.

“How’d you know my size?” You say first, inquisitive but not accusatory. Gojo shrugs.

“Guessed. We’ve spent enough time together,” He says noncommittally. Your face changes, like you don’t quite believe him. But there’s not enough there for you to question him either. He can almost hear you narrate it in your head. The heart you wear on your sleeve, tender red and bleeding, thumps anxiously as you try to get a read on him. It’s not a sound he dislikes.

He’s been good to you. He’s just being nice. You shake your head, regretful of your own doubt for a minute. You force a smile, and Gojo doesn’t hate it even though he knows where it comes from.

The power of love, he thinks almost whimsically.

“This is a big box. How much stuff did you even get?” You repeat, noticing the contents are up to the top. He feigns indifference. Pretends not to know that he spent countless hours looking over it.

“Mm, dunno. Just whatever I thought you’d need.”

“I’m only here for a week, Gojo.” You mutter, hands grazing over the cardboard edge.

“So? Maybe you need a lot of stuff. I don’t know what women go through.” He says with a pout, lips together. Joking with you to lighten the mood, which makes you huff through your nose.

“You’re so dumb. It’s too much stuff,”

“I already bought it and I don’t feel like returning it,” He tells you, making it clear he’s not going to negotiate “Just think of it as a gift from Santa Claus.”

You snort.

“You even have the hair,” You reply. Trying to make yourself feel better in the process, Gojo gives you a half smile “Still. I feel like I’m really indebted to you, lately.”

“Yeah? You can count this week as one big favor, if that makes it easier.”

“I don’t remember Santa doing favors for people,” You quip. Gojo laughs.

“Change in management,”

You laugh a real laugh at that, and Gojo watches you turn the situation over again and again.

“Well. Thank you. Might as well look through the rest of it, huh?”

“Take your time,” Gojo says, before checking the digital clock on his wall “I need to go get something from the store. Just leave the empty stuff next to the trash and I’ll take it out tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll start on dinner. See you, Gojo.”

“Yeah. See you” )

If you notice all the clothes come in shades of blue, you’re smart enough not to say anything.

The third day passes in a blur. Nothing notable, but he’s content. You wear the clothes Gojo bought you and he’s careful not to stare while you know. He takes it upon himself only to do it when he knows you’re asleep, his nightly routine staring over the bare inches of your body in a dark room being a reprieve of his other desires.

On the fourth day, he doesn’t have the restraint not to touch you. Too many days in the same room and he wants access to everything already. He hates being patient more than he thought, but there’s a method to this - he has to remind himself.

Like taking out his aggression, he decides he needs more relief. Something to scratch the itch. With his infinity, you can’t feel his fingers ghosting over your legs. He checks if you’re wearing the other stuff he bought, settled at the bottom of the box. Not lingerie, but panties. Plain and cottony - white over your cunt as you sleep with your leg hiked up. Gojo knows you can’t feel him now, but part of him wants you too. He wants to know why you’re wearing them despite yourself. Gojo realizes too late that he’s interested in your misery just as much as he is everything else, and so far - that discovery has made everything all the more difficult.

On the fifth day, things proceed the same. There’s a routine you’ve settled into together despite the time limit on it. That night over dinner, you and Gojo spend time together. There’s not really much to do - it’s a Friday. It’s the first time neither of you are completely occupied with any one task.

You get to talking like that. On the fifth day, Gojo gets as close to opening up as he’s ever gotten in his life. Part of him isn’t sure why he does it. He thinks he’s seeking confirmation for something, but what that could be is lost on him.

(“So, you’re the only person left in your clan?” You ask, half-way through a glass of tea he’s sure has gone cold by now. The T.V. is on but muted. Gojo looks at you in the low lights, fighting his own sleep.

“Mhm. Technically, I’m the sole heir.” He replies.

“...Is it okay to ask what happened?”

Gojo laughs at you. You really can’t help your curiosity, but he still finds it amusing.

“It’s not a pretty story,” Gojo says honestly.

“That’s okay,” You say, voice filled with an air of innocence that Gojo has a hard time wrapping his head around.

“Most of them were wiped out. We had a lot of enemies, me included. A lot of them are dead, the remaining are somewhere far-away and have no combat abilities.”

“You included?” You pick up on, naturally. Gojo nods and smiles a little.

“Once I inherited my technique it was pretty commonplace. I went through a lot of assassination attempts,” He yawns in between, because this is an old, boring story “It took a lot of time for me to get strong enough to where I am now. But I got there eventually.”

“You say that so easily,”

Gojo peers at the frown on your face and laughs quietly to himself.

“It was a long time ago, now. I never really had a lot to mourn, except for when I was a teenager. I’m used to it.”

For a long time, you remain completely silent. Gojo almost thinks you’re going to cry. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s proof of something. Of his ambivalence towards the idea of sympathy. Sure, it’s meaningless now for someone to feel bad for him. It’s a pointless endeavor, because Gojo is a selfish dick and the strongest - and he knows both of those things intimately. He accepts them as part of himself in the same way, he doesn’t know what he’s like without being frivolous. Without being the strongest. The line between misery and character is paper thin and Gojo hasn’t known it since he was born.

It’s especially pointless for you to feel bad for him, because he’s going to ruin that very innocence you hold in your heart before the week is over. He’s going to do it with purpose and conviction. He won’t feel remorseful about it at all.

There’s an irony to it. A dramatic irony that brings him closer to Godliness than he’s ever really been. Because Gojo knows that this conversation is confirmation that he needs you, just as much as he knows he’ll do anything to have you even if it means you can no longer look at him like this.

He wonders how long you’ll hold sympathy for him. He decides for now, there’s no reason to not lean into it. It makes him happy that you care enough to feel sad. Even if it’s pointless. He doesn’t remember the last time someone did.

Maybe when he was 17.

“You look like you’re gonna cry.” He says lightheartedly. Sincere in a way he hasn’t been in very well over 10 years. You sniffle.

“How are you not crying?”

“I never cry.” Gojo says smoothly, not blinking “I’m a heartless bastard.”

“That’s not true.” You say, almost exclaim, turning yourself to look at him so seriously. It’s cute, he must admit, that you’re so sure on his character “You’re not heartless,”

“But I am a bastard,” He clarifies, mischievous. And you pout, less eager to correct him on that

“...You’re not heartless. Clearly.” You say again. Gojo laughs, a real laugh. He can feel it preemptively, how much he’ll cherish every minute of this conversation. He hums.

“Oho, you almost sound like you’re defending me.”

“From yourself, I guess. I know you’re not heartless,” You say, with some kind of clarity that you have him figured out. Maybe you do. It’s a little shocking. It’s not usually how this goes “You’re…weird. But you care”

“That’s true,” Because it is, and Gojo has no reason to lie to you right now. “More than that, I’m hung up on the idea of the future.”

“Isn’t it usually being hung-up on the past?”

“Right? Usually, that’d be the case,” Gojo says, unsure of what to express “But the past is the past. I can’t go back to it. My technique is infinity. It means I can see infinite realities.”

You sound like the winds been knocked out of you “That’s terrifying,”

“It is. But you know, even in those realities, the past is the past. There are places where the past hasn’t happened. But it can’t be changed. It becomes part of infinity, when events occur. The only thing that can be changed is the future,�� Gojo explains, though he leaves out so many intricacies “There’s a future I want to see. I’d like if my students could see it too,”

“Because of your friend, right?”

Gojo smiles.

“Because of my friend. And for less selfless reasons.”

“Like?” You ask, curious.

“I like being able to do whatever I want, without consequences. Being strong lets me do that. For now it’s up to me, but eventually, I can raise strong comrades.”

You’re silent for a while, again.

“Seems lonely,” You say, simply. Easily. It’s true, and he knows that. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’ve said it with little regard for anything. Almost mindlessly, a natural response to such a sad story.

Gojo feels it again. Those stifling, pesky emotions that linger in the cavity of his ribs. He can’t bring himself to be honest, because when does he ever? But he does smile again, a little more melancholy than usual. You notice, certainly, but you have the courtesy not to say a word.

“You think so?” Gojo says, passive and wilfully ignorant “Does it make you wanna hug and console me?”

He offers it sarcastically, but you don’t tear your eyes away from him. It’s almost enough to shake him. Almost.

“...A little? You feel like a sad dog in the rain.” You say, too honestly.

“Jeez. Maybe you just miss Pokupan. Thinking about another man right in front of me. I can’t believe I’m the other woman,” He says, with a faux pout.

You laugh, though it’s laced with sympathy. Gojo can tell you want to fuss. That you want to admonish him for being the way he is, and he’s almost willing to let you. That’s just the thing.

You see Gojo as human, still.

Gojo Satoru isn’t God. But he isn’t human either. If you want to know how God lives, asking Gojo is always viable. But you shouldn’t mistake false omnipotence for forgiveness, like you are now. You see Gojo for all of his humanity, but you're blind to his divinely violent tendencies. You will be until it’s too late.

So, Gojo doesn’t think you need to comfort him how you’re thinking you should. Gojo wants you to depend on him. Because coveting you is an affair distinctly inhuman and crueler than even the heavens could be and he believes that you’re owed to him.

Gojo wants to protect this version of you, even at the sake of corrupting it. He doesn’t want to let you go ever, for any reason. And he wont.

He turns the heat up gently. You’re none-the-wiser. The night swallows you both, but Gojo will remain untouched. He’ll hold you when it inevitably spits you back out. When reality washes into you, you should’ve trusted your gut after all.

For now, he smiles at you.

“If it’s any consolation, I’d be very sad if you disappeared.” Which Gojo hopes you can interpret without his interference. It seems like you do, because you smile to yourself.

“Me too,” You reply. Gojo knows he’s going to ruin you. “I’d be really sad if you disappeared, Gojo. So, don’t, okay?”

And if Gojo were an honest person, or a good one - he’d tell you you’re the last person who should worry about missing him. That you’ll be seeing him for a long time.

But he’s neither, just like he’s not god or man. He lightens his tone and holds out his pinky, which you link with his.

“Scouts honor,”

When he’s ready to look away, you pull a bare thread from Gojo’s clothes. Frowning at him, as you dust away the fabric with your hand. He stares at you.

“What was that?”

“You had a thread loose,” You say simply, unconcerned with anything “I just pulled it off.”

Gojo stares.

“Yeah. Thanks.”)

The sixth day passes quickly. Gojo doesn’t think there’s anything worthy of saying. By then the routine is so practiced and so constant. The sixth day passes like a shadow in the night, disappearing through the woods before morning comes. A stepping stone.

Today is the 7th day.

On the 7th day, things are different. The same but different as they so often are. You don’t have work today, so you do what you’ve been doing. You and Gojo work in proximity to each other, share meals, and idly watch T.V.

Night falls on the 7th day.

Gojo wants to take part in the act of creation, as the sun dips below the horizon. He’d set this in motion when the week started and now that it’s here - the anticipation is too much to bear. When Gojo Satoru sets himself out to be conqueror, the universe trembles at the sight of him. There’s no sound at all. The night reeks of death, in Gojo’s presence it trembles. Too fearsome to speak.

Night falls today. Gojo starts his usual routine with less caution than he’s had the previous six. Where he usually bides his time and enters the room carefully - today he merely enters. He places his hand on the silver handle and pushes it open. A breath rushes from his lungs, adrenaline entering his system as he steps inside. His room has felt so unfamiliar to him lately, but like this - a sense of serenity washes over him.

He stares at you. With his Six Eyes, with vision clear as ever, Gojo looks onto you as you are now. You can never reconstruct a flower crushed under steel boots. You’re not mud or earth, not adaptable like the sea. From the moment he’s met you - Gojo has known you to be so much like a flower. Gojo has never wanted to take the petals off of something so much in his life.

And Gojo is in this instance, a natural disaster ready to pluck the root of you up from the ground. He’ll pick you up in a storm but return you to his feet. There’s a method to this. Gojo stares at your silhouette wrapped and tangled in his sheets, body so loosely dressed. Your visible figure rests easy.

The night is glorious and silent. Gojo watches on in some cross of indifference and utter starvation. He blinks, leans on the wall.

Like a call from fate, you start to stir awake.

Gojo moves towards you. He decides it might be easier just to join you in bed, so he gently works himself into the sheets.. He creeps towards you slowly, and re-familiarizes himself with the feeling of his bed. It’d be lost on him for a week, but your presence in it makes it feel especially brand new. The bed dips under his weight, creaking. You shift lethargically, turning your head to look at Gojo.

You look startled once you realize. For the first time in your entire relationship, it seems to dawn on you that something is wrong. Just a minute too late. He gives you a second to wake up. Your breath hitches, a stifled gasp as you greet Gojo’s expression.

The hunger in his stomach is gnawing. Gojo feels like he’s starving. He thinks doing this will only half-way relieve the urge. This part of Gojo is inhuman as the rest of him.

Gojo’s presence suffocates you so much in the moment, you can only barely open your lips to say your next words.

“What are you doing here?” You sound still innocent. Gojo smiles briefly, under the glow of the moon. He can see your expression clearly. Sleep in your vision. A sheerness to your skin that comes with rest. Your bags are packed, and your things are cleared from his bathroom. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought.

He knows he shouldn’t think it, but some part of him is vindicated. You’re leaving him today and Gojo finds abandonment to be the highest betrayal of them all. So, he’s vindicated. He licks his teeth, usual mirth coming back to him.

Then he talks, his voice tender.

“Getting my debts repaid,” And he means it, more than he’s ever meant anything he’s said “You owe me one, remember?”

It dawns on you. Realization flickers in your eyes before it twists into fear. Gojo wants to encourage it. A curse starts to form, like tendrils around you. You’ll leave it here when you’re gone in the morning and Gojo will have a piece of you left with him.

“W-what are you…? What do you mean?”

He’s shrill, almost, leaning close to you. His sudden proximity makes you freeze. You know better, know so clearly it stops you from running. Gojo is tempted to see if you’ll do it. If you’ll run or if you’ll thrash or if you’ll fight. He’s not particularly sadistic, but he likes you - and he’s curious to know what your reaction will be to something like this.

He eases you into it, He brushes his knuckles over your cheek as your heart sky-rockets like you’re being hunted. Gojo thinks he ought to be gentle with you. Regardless of how this is happening, it’s your first time together. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to grab his wrist. It seems like you’re trying hard to pull him off, and wiggle away from his grip. You ready yourself to give him push back and Gojo times it so that it seems like you’ll be able to break free.

But Gojo is strong. Stronger than you by a lot, and you know that by now. When he finds that you’re trying to escape him, he’s quick to grab your wrists with his hands. They both fit perfectly in his palms. He pulls them up over your head and your eyes widen as you feel his grip - near bruising (though he is trying so hard to be gentle) on your body. He stares down at you.

You look so frightened.

“Wh-what are you..?”

“You owe me one for letting you stay here, right?” He asks enthusiastically, licking his teeth. Your eyes widen “I’ll take this as compensation, okay? It’s a good deal for us both I think,”

“I don’t,” You squirm underneath him “I don’t—I,”

“Shh,” He quiets you, humming softly “Don’t overcomplicate it. Just wanna see you,”

Gojo watches you turn it over in your head. He was wondering about this. What’d you do in these circumstances. If you’d act like you always do, pleasant and pliable trying to do what's best. Damage control for what's coming.

Gojo pulls his hands away to undress you and yours fly to his shoulder blades. You heave as you push, mumbling something about how he doesn’t need to do this. Your expression is grief-stricken. Gojo soothes you.

“You can bite, scratch, kick, scream - whatever works,” Gojo says, communicating his affection as best he can. He drives his hands under your shirt, laying his palm flat over the skin of your stomach. He runs his thumbs over your sides, committing every inch of you to memory. Without his infinity, Gojo feels every part of you “It’s not gonna hurt me,”

You look like you’re at a loss for words. He gives you a warm grin.

“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Gojo says after some thought “Is this your first time?”

You whimper, nodding meekly. Gojo groans against your skin. You flinch.

“Fuck, course it is. Shoulda known. Such a sheltered girl like you,” He adds the last part with a hint of condescension, watching your face curl up into a frown.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing you know,” Gojo is careful as he pulls your shirt higher and higher. Your breath is being held, afraid of what’ll happen if you let g.o “We’re tied together like this. Isn’t that nice?”

“Gojo,” You say, swallowing something. Words that threaten to bubble up that you can’t find the strength to say. You’re not wearing anything underneath and Gojo feels a chill in his spine “Please,”

“Not wearing a thing even though you’ve been sleeping at a man's house all week,” He reprimands. He lets the material sit over the swell of your chest, just under your neck where it stays. He can see the outline of your tits clearly now, just enough light from the open window to illuminate your skin. Your nipples are hard, heaving. Gojo can hear your little heartbeat thump against your ribs “I’m not telling you off you know? I’m glad you trust me. Great job, on that really. But you really should be more careful.”

“Gojo,” You plead again, throaty. The sound goes through his system, sends blood rushing to his cock.

“Satoru,” He insists on, knowing it will take more than that to convince him “I’ll try and listen to your requests if you say Satoru,”

He doesn’t promise to stop, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to follow up on it. Still, with the level of desperation you show - Gojo thinks it’s worth it to gain something out of. You follow up his request almost instantly, lips wrapping around the syllables with a weak breath.

“S-Satoru,”

He gestures to take your shirt off. You’ve become more pliable, if only a little, letting Gojo see all of you completely bare as he tosses his clothes somewhere onto the floor. Shameless in viewing you, your instincts kick in to cover your chest. He clicks his teeth, pushing your wrists together again over your head.

“That won’t do,” He coos at you softly “I wanna see you. All of you,”

You hiccup, sobbing, Gojo reaches his palms towards your breasts, cupping them gently. Your nipples rub against his palms and he groans feeling how soft you are.

“So pretty,” He admires you. Means it. Gojo lets his gaze catch on the edges and curves of you with enthusiasm. Your chest is sensitive to his touch, thumb and forefinger tweaking and teasing your nipples as you remain underneath him obediently. Your eyes look so watery, soft like lilies in freshwater “So cute,”

“Satoru, please, I don’t—don’t want—”

“So ungrateful,” He tsks. He smacks your chest lightly, enough to make you squeal “That’s the only request I can’t listen to,”

You hiccup, looking away. Gojo hums as he hovers over you, seated over your figure. He pulls his mask off from his eyes, material falling into his fingers. Grabbing your wrists with his palms, he wraps the material around them - tight enough to keep you but with enough room so it doesn’t hurt. He places your hands over your head gently, kissing your covered wrists.

“Don’t squirm too much, ‘kay? Stay like that. I’ll make you feel good.”

“I don’t,”

“Hey,” This time he’s stern, and you slink back into yourself. It’s the first time he’s had to use this tone on you and hopefully the last “What’d I say? You owe me this much, don’t you think? After everything I’ve done for you, the least you can do is not turn me away. It’s not like I wanna do anything bad with you, y’know”

A pang of guilt passes through you. You stop squirming. Gojo keens, baring his teeth as he smiles.

“Good girl.” He dips his head to kiss the place under your ear, where your neck meets your jaw. He scrapes his teeth on the skin so you can feel his teeth over your pulse “You learn quick.”

You keep your arms over your head like he’s asked, hesitant and stiff. Gojo can work with that at least. He leans towards you, tipping your jaw so you’re forced to look at him. Tear-eyed and whimpering, a shudder passes through him.

“So pretty,” He mumbles. He leans forward, presses his lips to yours - hand resting on the base of your neck. You make a noise of indignance but Gojo keeps you there. He eases you into obedience, forcing his tongue in your mouth, grazing the inside of your mouth.

He swallows every sound you make. Distress and frustration and reluctance lend themselves to giving in easily. Your body is sensitive to touch, a trail of goosebumps where his hands touch you. On your waist, trying to ease you into it.

He pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting you.

“First kiss?” He asks. You shy away, clamping your mouth shut. Gojo chuckles, teeth nipping at you “Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You remain silent, so Gojo fills the space.

“Mm,” Gojo presses kisses down the curve of your jaw, all the way down your neck where he stops and bites - hard enough for something to be there tomorrow. He undresses the rest of you. You try to resist this time too, but Gojo doesn’t bother putting up a show. It’s easy to overpower you. He tugs your shorts off with your panties and tosses them somewhere. Unceremonious and uncharacteristically impatient.

He takes his time now that you’re all naked. It’s thrilling to watch distress fill your lungs, a ballooned breath and muffled protest. Gojo sucks hickies into your bare skin. It’s only fair to give you something to look at while you’re departed. Your blood rushes, capillaries breaking under the hardness of his incisors - ridges pushed against your delicate skin. He licks the bruises afterwards, kisses them tenderly.

“Gonna be a little sore for a while,” He says warmly. You’ve hit the stage of grief where you’re angry and resilient again but one look from Gojo is enough to make you slink back “Might as well enjoy yourself.”

Despair flashes in your expression.

“I mean it, you know.” He offers, stating it like he’s trying to appease you “You should relax a little, let it roll off your shoulders.”

It seems like you register that Gojo is teasing you. He does mean it, about thinking you should enjoy it. Everything else is deliberate and you know as much. It’s good you’re starting to understand him a little better.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You ask hoarsely. Gojo is surprised by your question.

“Ah, it’s a secret, so you can’t tell,” He starts. He squeezes the fat of your chest in his palms, silver tongued and playful “I like things that I can keep.”

A flash of true horror washes over you and you almost go ragged in realization. Weakened in your resolve once glimmering so brightly, Gojo takes the opportunity to please. He kisses down your sternum, runs his hands across the sides of your chest. He presses this thumb against your hardened nipples, rubbing lightly. Gojo takes them into his mouth. He bites then licks like he licks a wound

It pleases him immensely when you respond. When you gasp in a helpless sort of way and go to cover your mouth in shame. A sense of delight washes over his body and he does it again and again. He teases, changes from sucking harshly to lapping oh-so gently on the skin. Over and over until your voice can longer be contained no matter how hard you try - sharp gasps and cries of desire filling the air.

When he thinks you’re worked up enough, he slots himself against you and nudges your legs apart. He can feel the heat from your bare skin against his body, clothed. How you tremble underneath him. He eases his hand down gently, fingers trailing down to your pussy.

You hiccup. A sob of defiance stifled with obvious arousal, forced from you so easily. Gojo laughs.

“You don’t wanna?” He pricks, intentionally. Gojo lets his middle finger ease along your slit, dragging his digits up and through - catching on your achy clit “Are you sure?”

It’s torture for you. Of course it is. A pretty, sheltered little thing. It’s your first time with something like this and he’s sure all this is too much for you. Even if you tell yourself you don’t want it, your body can’t refuse him. You can’t either, try as you might. That’s why your legs are spread and why you’re practically dripping for him. Gojo thinks of it as admission. Your clit is hard underneath the pad of his middle finger, as he rubs too light and too gently.

You cry out, pitchy and broken. Gojo laughs.

“You need it here,” He punctuates, adding enough pressure that you gasp “Need me to touch you here, hm?”

You shake your head at first. Gojo tucks himself against your chest, sucking the skin gently.

“Be more honest.” He encourages a mockery as he so barely presses his finger inside of you - threatening to touch but never doing it “What do you want?”

“Don’t, I don’t.” You say, or you try.

“Liar,” He snips playfully against your clavicle “Your pretty little pussy is dripping wet and you want me to believe that?”

Gojo smacks your cunt softly. Once, then twice, then three times for good measure as you cry.

“C’mon,” He encourages meanly “Tell me what you really want.”

It’s a sick little mind game that Gojo is having too much fun playing with you.

“P-please,” You stutter, so unbelievably broken with so little done to you at all. Gojo will take all of you at a later time. When you’re thoroughly pliable and broken and so beautiful all for him “Please.”

So dependent like Gojo always thinks you should be.

“Please what, hm? What are you asking for?”

You swallow thickly. All your dread and doubt and disbelief gone as a sense of real and true need ignites within you. Of course this is too much for you. Gojo overwhelmed you like this on purpose. The resentment of wanting despite it all, despite how miserable you are makes for something so tragically Gojo’s. Whatever you have in your heart will always be for him. Good or bad, ugly or beautiful - like this you are all his and so perfectly too. It’s titillating, the sensation of control that wisps around him. It strikes him like a hammer on hot iron.

Gojo wants you to say it. Wants your selfless little heart to beg for his mercy this once. You’ll understand some time later, that this is how Gojo loves. Selfish and twisted. Cruel. Intimate beyond mortal comprehension. All of him just for you, just like this.

Strangely, it's perfect. Gojo teases you some more. Toys with your clit and feels a pool of arousal rush and drip from your sore cunt. He hits it with the palm of his hands as you try to form the words. You tremble in his arms, a vestige of your will to resist.

You want to resist so badly, he can tell. But it hurts now to leave it alone and you want it despite yourself. It makes you so frustrated you cry. Limp, crystal tears down your face that Gojo licks up nearly immediately. Salty and bitter. Gojo kisses the apples of your cheek, nose nudging your skin.

“So cute when you give up.” Gojo praises sincerely. You sob somewhere deep inside of your “Be good and be honest. I’ll reward you, hm? How’s that?”

Gojo can feel the moment you give in completely. When acceptance settles over your hazy and contorted mind. You let the tides take you, curling into yourself. A sound like you’re in pain even though you’re not hurt.

“Please touch me.” You whisper, hoarse and defeated. Gojo laughs airy, peppering your face with kisses. You wince.

“Good girl.” He coos, dipping his fingers down lower and lower. Heel of his palms pressed into your swollen, needy clit “That’s all you had to do. Easy, right?”

You scowl at him (you try too).

“Open your legs, baby,”

You listen this time, opening your legs wide enough for him to touch. Your pussy is so wet for him. Sticky and soft like you’ll fall apart, Gojo thinks it feels divine, wants to squeeze and grope and touch until you’re disintegrated. He likes feeling you like this. Vocal chords strung tight, all the noises throaty and gone. You throb against him like you’re begging. Gojo doesn’t stand to let you acclimate, flipping between three fingers in a gentle rub to a soft and well-practiced spank.

Only when your words start to come out t0gether, like you’re spitting them out because they fill your mouth too quick - does Gojo bless you with any mercy. He lets his hands sink lower, deeper - until his middle finger brushes your twitching hole. Your breath hitches, and the hands once stuck to your side, reach for Gojo’s hard to hold.

He licks his teeth, some unspoken feeling sending an bullet through him as he feels your body resist. Needy thing you are and so untouched that even the point of your middle finger makes your breath slower. You’re wet enough he doesn’t need anything else to aid him. He pushes in slow, slow, slow - painstakingly carefully as your wetness envelops you.

Because he intends to cherish you in his own way, he resists the urge he feels to flip you right over and take you. He’s being kind, and you’ll realize it later - when you’ve adjusted to him a bit more and know when to pick your fights. If he didn’t think it’d ruin the set-up, he’d have flipped you on your back just feeling. Fucked you without any consideration, just to feel your pussy around him in a vice grip.

It’s all he can picture, but he shows restraint. He’ll fuck himself off on you when you’re sleeping maybe, just to scratch the urge. You might pass out before then.

He comes back to you like that, a promise to himself to give the relief he needs with the body he finds oh-so tempting. He pushes his perversion aside to touch you. You let out a little sound every time he fucks himself deeper, gets his middle finger down to the first bend the all the way to the knuckle.

When he thinks you’re adjusted - ready for more, he gives it to you without making you plead. He uses his ring finger this time - his longest ones and feels you stretch around. He groans, deep and appreciative, as he feels how tight you are. You preen, squeeze your thighs together and call his name

“Oh, Satoru, its.”

He shushes you before busying himself with tasting your skin. Closes his mouth around one of your tits as he repeats the process. In, in, in until he’s all the way to his knuckles. Fucks you till it’s easy, till you’re wanting more.

If he were more merciful, a good man or a better one - he’d stop here. He doesn’t though. A third finger has your eyes widening. You gasp. Gojo kisses your face again and again.

“Easy, easy,” He coos, voice coarse but encouraging “It’s a good exercise for the future.”

You don’t register the words and Gojo doesn’t expect you to. Even still, he thinks giving you the heads up is quite nice.

Three fingers proves to be more than enough. It pushes you to an edge he has seen before. He fucks you with three. Your mouth falls open, slack jawed. Gojo curls his fingers. He rubs up like he’s motioning for you to come here, deep enough until he feels it. That spongy spot inside of you, apparent through the sounds you start to make as he touches it.

He hits something of a stride like that, finger fucking you with pressure on your clit and his mouth on your skin. Gojo takes to watching you once he knows he’s getting you to that edge. Your body stiffens underneath him, breathing going noticeably shallow. Mouth wobbly, lower lip trembling. He can tell you’re feeling it, just as much as you’re resisting it. Gojo coaxes you by whispering against your skin.

“C’mon,” He hums, nudging his nose to your neck “You wanna cum don’t you? I can tell you. You too scared? Need me to help you.”

You whimper “Aah, aah,” Gojo can feel you pulse. Can feel your insides tighten. He’s doing it on purpose, tipping you just over the edge. He wants to hear you beg. Wants to know what it sounds like when you beg for him. He fucks into you slowly, until you’re no longer able to put on a show of being composed.

“S-sato—oh, please, oh—please m-make me,”

“Want me to making you cum? Say it. Say, ‘Satoru, please make me cum,’ can you do that?”

A bitter sob leaves your lips and Gojo can’t think straight. It strains you.

“S-satoru, pleasemakemecum—please.”

Gojo grins. “Of course I can,” He quickens his pace enough to make you feel it. Your eyes shoot open before screwing closed again “All you had to do was ask me.”

He watches you intently. How you fall apart under his fingers, delirious whimpers of no, no, no - even though you begged so sweetly a minute ago. He hums as he feels the walls of your pussy start to tremble, a soft squelching sound hastened now. You say something he can’t decipher, words too jumbled for him to make sense. Gojo stares hard. Lets the infinity bleed away so he can feel you just like this, feel you cum on his fingers despite everything.

He feels giddy to the point he’s sick with it, moaning as your hands grip at the roots of his hair. He kisses your breast tenderly, just over the latest lovemark.

“Don’t hate me too much, kay,” Gojo says, whispering, means it so you carry it with you because he can feel the resentment nudged so deep into your heart by now “Come on. Cum for me, sweet girl. Want you to feel so good.”

And so you do. You cry, scream - but the noise amounts to nothing. A cosmic thing, like you’ve been struck by a comet. Gojo fingers you through it, absolutely delighted at the hot rush of liquid that comes pouring out of you. Your first orgasm from him and you’re squirting all over his fucking wrists, soaking his sheets and his arms and his PJ’s with your back curved in a beautiful arch. You break apart in an almost violent way, like the pleasure’s vicious. It tears into you and you succumb with a whimper.

Gojo shushes you as you break down finally into a teeny, tiny sob. You must be exhausted because you don’t pull away when he comforts you, despite the little angry why, why, why that you whisper. You hit his chest softly. He kisses your forehead and listens as your breathing goes still and you fall asleep in a heart-beart, still curled up into his bed and too tired to run away or go anywhere.

He stays with you like that, relishing in the warmth of your body until you’re deep asleep. He flips you onto the side of the bed that isn’t wet, and presses a kiss to your forehead before moving out of the sheets. .

When he stands to his feet, it’s to collect the curse that’s gathered itself on the foot of the bed. It manifests as a white snake with blue-eyes. Gojo finds himself amused. Of course the curse you’ve made is pretty. Gojo grabs it by the neck, watching it as it pries its mouth open and bares his fangs at him. He grins, pricking himself on the teeth to see if it makes him bleed.

It hisses loudly before wrapping itself around Gojo’s arm. It doesn’t take any effort to subjugate it, sensing his power it stills with some effort. Gojo tilts his head as he walks out of the room, glancing at you before turning his head back at the snake.

“Better warm up to me,” He whispers in the dark, a contentment to his words “You won’t be seeing your mama for a while,”

—

Communication stills.

Radio silence, more like - a busy bunch of messages deftly still. Suddenly, a raging storm of grief and anger disappears. The morning after Gojo assaults you, he wakes up to see you off like nothings happened.

He mostly does this because he wants to see what you’ll do.

You spend the morning perplexed and confused. You eat breakfast with him. You sit at the table, contemplative and silent and Gojo chats away at you idly. About the news and the weather and the classes he has today. You chew your food but don’t taste. You listen but your replies are short and stilted - out of touch.

Gojo learns that when something bad happens to you, you respond to it by detaching yourself. Though yesterday you were hot and fiery, the day after you seem to be mourning. Your grieving process starts early, and Gojo thinks rather amused—that you remind him a lot of himself.

He thinks you’re a little closer now that you understand the apathy of losing something that can never come back. And once this whole thing is over, once you find yourself back here - he’ll tell you all about it. You get it now right? It’s painful to feel like you can never be the same.

They say that mankind was fashioned from their Lord. Gojo supposes he’s made you in his image. You look a little empty, and though you’re both so different - you can become close by having the same wound. You can understand him a little more this way, all while retaining your sense of resilience.

What is mankind not known for if not perseverance? Of course he knows, once you recover from your grief, you’ll return to your usual spitfire. He’s counting on it, counting on you to fight and run. Escape from him and never come back.

But that cat and mouse game is more than okay. Gojo isn’t looking for your obedience, really. You’re too defiant of a character. Gojo thinks it’d be pointless if you’d just stayed the same.

You need to have hope to stay the way you are. Thus, Gojo doesn’t plan to rob you of it. He figures it’s best to give you breathing room. After all, he has full confidence in his ability to find you. He could hear the rhythm of your heart a continent away and chase it down without thinking twice. But it’s better if you’re able to show him some resistance. He thinks of it like a compromise. That sort of thing is typical for married folks, he thinks. He gives and you take.

Eventually, you might realize that the endeavor of running away is fruitless. Maybe you’ll be clever enough to recognize that it’s not that you’re succeeding, but that Gojo is letting you. You’re definitely smart enough to do so early, but just stubborn enough to believe that there’s hope in spite of that. If you try hard enough, persevere a little more, etc.

Gojo likes this part of you. Always will. You always put your best in everything and this is his own way of nurturing it.

It’d be a shame to take that from you. Gojo has remained out of your sight for the time being to try and reinstate it. While he raises the curse up in his apartment, he watches you through windows and flitters into your bedroom to peer at you before disappearing again. He makes sure that you can’t sense him or that he’s gone before you can. The more ease you feel, the easier everything else will go.

Feeding the curse you’ve left behind in his house has been taking most of its time. It’s obedient to him since he’s strong, and it’s big now. Longer and wider and more sinister looking (he feels a weird affection for it, maybe just because it’s from you), more hostile. He’s been careful to maintain it. Too much feeding will make it overgrown.

It’s currently on Gojo’s floor, on a dog bed like a disobedient pet - all in a single coil. He has to be careful not to endanger you by making it too strong or giving it too much range. It’s just meant to be a showpiece - a prop at best and a scraped knee at worst.

He’s been building it up for a long time. Then, though, it wasn’t such a clear desire. He figured sewing seeds of fear in you would benefit you in a different way. But that’s fine. The means don’t matter as much as the ends and in doing so - he’s made this all sort of seamless.

It’s not a complicated plan, ultimately. He’ll tell the curse to let loose, freak you out a little, and eventually - you’ll call the only person you know who knows how to handle it. Gojo will save you, and when you’re finally caught in his arms, you’ll have a little reunion amongst yourselves. He’ll reprimand you (but only lightly) and you’ll thrash (but only for a little while) and then he’ll keep you by his side again.

Except this time he won’t be so quick to let go. He’s sure you’ll protest (and be all gung-ho about it). He’ll feign cruelty and push you to the edge. Whatever response you do have, he’s thought of a way to reply.

A way to tend to it.

Like any relationship, things take time. He’s not expecting this to settle right away - but he’s confident eventually it’ll work out how he wants too. Gojo can make that happen as long as you’re within view.

He watches you through the window as you come in from your classes. You’re dressed up today despite the chilly weather - a blouse and nice pants with bangles on your wrist. He wonders what the occasion is given the time of year. Your bag is hanging loosely off of your shoulder - having only just returned.

A sense of warmth spreads through him as he peers at you, a smile on his face. He really does like looking at you quite a bit.

The curse hisses at the sense of your presence and Gojo waves a hand at it to keep it quiet.

“Calm down or I’ll exercise you right away,” Gojo says coldly. It retracts itself. “I’m getting impatient, too, you know? It’s been a long time.” He says wistfully.

He keeps looking until you’ve effectively disappeared from his sight. He listens for you outside of his door. The sound of the building buzzer, soft footsteps, and the slight jiggle and turn of keys before you’ve gone in - sound by a dull thump.

He leans against the wall near his door where he was listening, eyes up at the ceiling as he turns over his options. He should wait it out a little longer. Giving everything enough room to mellow out before it picks up again is an important part of the process.

But he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait. Plus, keeping this curse around is starting to be troublesome. He’d much prefer you back in his arms, in his bed - all back to that kind domestic fantasy that he’d been thinking about again for weeks.

He supposes there’s no right decision, in this case. Just what he wants to do, versus what he should do, and some kind of middle ground he’s been spending too long looking for.

He stands to his feet, no longer leaning on the wall before glancing at the curse from the corner of his eyes.

“Today seems like it’s too soon yet too far,” Gojo pauses between sentences, scratching his head woefully “But it should be okay, right?”

At 7pm, the curse slips underneath the door of his apartment into the hallway. Gojo sits comfortably in his living room, one leg crossed over the other with his phone in hand, a warm mug of tea cooling on his coffee table.

The news is playing. A general and loose sense of anticipation fills him as he pays attention to the newscaster. Another storm is going to hit and the temperatures are dropping to an impossible low. Officials recommend buying bottled water and keeping warm as it continues to blow out.

There’s a soft hiss as the muscled curse squeezes itself underneath the tight crack of his door. It’s unfortunate he can’t monitor it directly. Though the instructions ( and subsequently the consequences of disobedience) were made clear - curses are greedy as they are stupid. This one in particular seems to be self-aware enough not to try to go against Gojo’s word.

So, when the time comes he sits patiently and waits. Watches the news. His ears itch and his skin pricks as he listens for the first whisper of your voice. He wonders if you’ll scream. You didn’t when he thought you should’ve but maybe there's a reason for you to do so now.

The clock ticks away. It’s unceremonious. Gojo thinks to himself that maybe this entire thing is esoteric. Capturing you is a tragedy that he writes to himself and he’ll re-tell it to you all the time in different ways.

The clock ticks. Again and again, the monotony is starting to settle in. Time moves slower than you could imagine. Like trying to pipe honey into straw, thick and impossible.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

At 7:02, a dog barks outside. It sounds cagey, and it’s not Pokupan because Gojo knows what that mutt sounds like. Nor is it cosmic. It does sound desperate, though - like asking someone to be let in. And if Gojo didn’t have such a pressing matter to attend to, he’d go outside and do it himself. After all the wind is frosty and the air is unforgiving and winter devours things so slowly it's painful.

Gojo can’t abandon his task. It’s too important for him to stick his neck out for a being he doesn’t even know. He hopes briefly that it survives. That someone lets it in before it gets anymore violent (or desperate or willing)

At 7:03, he reaches for the tea on his coffee table to drink it. It’s still piping hot, but Gojo can swallow it with his infinity. He does for a reason he can’t name. It’s just a compulsion, inspired by the fact it will probably be too cold when he comes back for it. He thinks, instinctively, that he should cherish the warmth in the glass despite the barrier that prevents him from feeling it. Ultimately it’s still milk tea. It will still fill his stomach and taste vaguely sweet where he permits. He ought to drink it when it’s warm even if it’s just an illusion.

The clock ticks again, this time to 7:04 and Gojo regains a sense of bravado that’s riveting. There’s a commercial airing now for a new type of kitchen gadget, an airfryer with more settings than any one person knows what to do with. The advertiser is enthusiastic and loud. He wonders what happens when it switches to the next one. Do actors on set feel awkward when the cameras turn off? He knows a thing or two about performing, which is why he finds himself so curious.

At 7:05, the first whisper of your pleading filters through the hallways. Though Gojo figures he’s not meant to be able to hear it - because however vague it is, the sense of shame that it holds is hard to ignore. Despite his urge to run to you, Gojo is reminded of the fact he is teaching you a lesson and this is all a show for you and in a way for him too. There’s timings and cues and calls, so Gojo lets your first prayer get passed through the winter winds. He’s sure it gets dropped off somewhere in the snow.

The dog outside bares its teeth and barks louder than before.

At 7:06, the feelings of fear and negativity start to weasel their way into his apartment. Through cracks in the floorboards and the aeration in the spackle - he can feel it come through his door and penetrate his being like waves of wind. With no barrier and no filter, your fear is a familiar presence in his life. It comes to a crescendo as he leans his head back on the couch and blinks up at the ceiling. He’s pleased with it so far. It’s proving to be just right. All the months of delicate orchestration have culminated into such a lovely overture. A symphony of sobs. It enchants him like a bird song, or maybe the whistle of a blizzard.

He waits for it to die down. He waits for it to start back up again. He waits for the sniffling to become sobs and for the sobs to become demands and for the demands to go back to sniffles. He waits for the dog outside to be let in because he can hear the buzz of the gates all the way from his apartment.

When Gojo has had enough of waiting, it’s 7:15 sharp.

He stands to his feet and walks through his door with not so much as a look back. The T.V. is still playing where he fazes out and he leaves it because this will be quick and easy.

You’re right across the hall. The walk is short. The building moans like it’s dead.

He stands in front of your door and presses his ears to it and there’s some semblance of an altercation. Mostly the sounds of shattered glass.

If you were any more familiar with this world, you’d know the thing is stalling. It has harmful intent but Gojo’s presence is too risky. If you knew anything about anything, then you’d know you were never in any real danger and even calling Gojo’s name when you hate it so much now would be pointless.

But Gojo has done his due diligence in keeping you in the fateful dark.

So this part is easy. He reaches for the door but it’s locked, so he teleports.

When he enters, your apartment is in terrible shape. The curse itself notices his presence but does not stop to act. He stops to take a look around. He figures you’re cornered and holed up in your bedroom. A trembling figure in the corner praying for God to save you.

Your house is effectively thrashed like there’s been a robbery. He’ll have to make up something in the report. Officials will come, but they won’t question his word. All the glass is broken and scattered and everything is torn up. Papers ripped and fabric shredded.

(The stuff Gojo demanded not to be touched has remained that way. Even he’s not so much of a monster to ruin your students' keepsakes. He’s sure you’ll look relieved when he returns them to you later. How kind he is.)

He prepares himself like an actor might for a role. He thinks of the lines he’s practiced and the way things will play out. This simple, choreographed tragedy. A manifestation of your fears. Gojo thinks that he is probably good at becoming the thing people love yet resent.

He’s sure you and Suguru would have a lot to talk about in another life.

He checks the time on your digital clock, left unscatched in all the destruction.

At 7:18, Gojo phases himself into your bedroom like he’s only just arrived. He hears you gasp in a sharp fear that quickly breaks into a sob of relief. He glances at you where he stands. He’s never been in your room. Kind of a waste it’s happening like this.

The first thing he does is check if the door is locked. When he finds that it is, he laughs to himself but covers his face before he turns to you. You are exactly how he predicts. Something curled tightly into your fists, fearful and backed into a corner. He coos internally. At what he's done to you. How this has played out.

It wasn’t enough to break you a little. This part is necessary.

Like he starts most interrogations off, he asks you question.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, Satoru.” Your voice sounds shattered in such a way he finds it almost hard to stomach “Oh, it’s—Oh it’s you.”

“Happy to see me, huh?” He says, tilting his head. You close your eyes instead of replying.

“H-how’d you…?”

“I can feel cursed energy,” He says, and it’s not untrue “I felt something very strange in your apartment. It’s been a while.”

You still can’t find it in yourself to say anything. Maybe desperate, maybe afraid, maybe exhausted by your own paranoia - you relent.

“Yeah.” You say. Gojo can feel the curse grow impatient. It lets out a loud hiss and you gasp in fear.

“Hey, you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”

You stare at Gojo for a long time.

“I’m not hurt but,” You swallow thickly. Upon looking at you closely, you look exhausted. He feels a little sorry for you. He’ll let you rest for a while when you’re home “I’m s-scared.”

“You’re right to be scared,” Gojo says, and he means it a little. Not about the curse, but in general “It’s a pretty powerful class. A special grade, probably. You share cursed energy.”

You look agape as he relays this to you.

“Share…?”

Gojo gives you a look. He can feel the creature coming towards you door down, slinking across the wood slowly. A coy, soft smile appears on his expression as he reaches down for you. You flinch from his hands but Gojo doesn’t falter. He strokes his thumb across your cheeks, peering at your eyes and how they reflect light from the outside.

“It was made with your cursed energy,” Gojo explains very gently to you. You look at him in disbelief “Curses are negative emotions. So something like this isn’t uncommon. No idea how it got so strong, though. But that’s all your.”

He watches you closely as a wave of horror settles over you. A nauseous feeling that has you cupping your hand over your mouth like you’re ready to throw-up. He masks a smile, but he doesn’t condescend you. Not openly, at least. Not to the extent he would like too. He reprimands you like a teacher - a sensei and his beloved mentee.

“I told you didn’t I,” Gojo says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as you quell your own disgust at the thought “You have to be careful. And you can’t fight all by yourself, so you’re kind of helpless. What were you gonna do if I wasn’t around?”

You look like you’re going to cry. Gojo keeps going.

“You can’t call the police, you know. They can’t help you at all. Good for nothing bunch, really.” Gojo states, gesturing vaguely. He tugs his masks off of his eyes so you can get a better look at him “But you can rely on me if you need to. I’ll always protect you. Next time just give me a call, okay?”

It must dawn on you, just then, what exactly Gojo is doing. Or some extent of this is hitting you for the very first time. The look on your face is picture perfect. It’s exactly what he wanted. An understanding he’d be hoping for for so long it’s unbelievable.

“I’m the only one who can keep you safe, understand?” But he’s not really asking. You know that too “Can you nod your head and agree?” He pricks. You don’t hold back your tears but you don’t cry them either. You break down silently nd you nod.

Gojo reaches down and wipes them off for you.

“Don’t be so sad,” He says to you, and he means it because what a shame it would be to wallow too much on such a nice day. Winter is for warming up next to your loved ones, isn’t it? “I’ll protect you now.”

Left with no choice, you nod again slowly and clutch your pillow. Gojo kisses the crown of your head and leaves you to untangle your feelings.

Then, almost on cue, the curse itself bursts through the door. The wood breaks off with the hinges.

It’s really a weak thing. If Gojo was trying to keep his powers contained, he might’ve put up more of a fight as it lunges at him in your bedroom. It knocks over your things left and right but he’s mostly busy trying to muffle the noises so he doesn’t disturb the neighbors.

It’s as fast as a gust of wind as he strikes out, neck elongated and jaw as unhinged as far as it can go. This time, Gojo can feel the weight of its desire to kill. A rampant sense of bloodlust in it’s every action, Gojo dodges each attempt and swipe at him. He leaves a barrier over you temporarily so that it can do you no harm.

It doesn’t go for you either. He figures maybe it has some understanding of its own predicament. Desperate animals can be clever too. Perhaps those things have always been linked together.

But he figures a fair-ish fight is as much as Gojo can do to stave the thing off before he sends it off officially. Plus, he can feel you watching his back - like you’re trying to measure how strong he is. It’s a smart thing to do. You’re learning. It’s probably better to show you now, since there’s not much left to hide.

So this time, when the snake comes flying towards him - Gojo reaches his hands out. He uses his infinity to stop it in its place. A noise of anger leaves its mouth, a low hiss as it hits the wall in front of him. Wide blue eyes stare at Gojo, a predator with its fangs bared.

Gojo stares back, a predator with its fangs bared.

He uses a reversal of his Limitless, the infinite blue. The creature is pulled into him closely, crashing first into the space he’s created before disappearing into nothing but smoke and ash. It’s gone just as quickly as it happened. A curse so inferior, it can’t have been more than ten minutes to fight even with all the purposeful delays Gojo set in place to finish it off.

It’s gone now, the product of you and him. A weird part of him is sad. But now he has you, so he cuts his losses. Now there is only you and Gojo, and a ruined bedroom and broken apartment.

Gojo, who has no intention of enlightening you, turns his back to look at you.

“Don’t know how long it’ll be gone but,” He shrugs, rolling his shoulder and cracking his spine “But it’s gone for now. Some officials will be here in the morning but with the way this place is, you might wanna come back to stay with me for a while.”

This is all a formality. He’s sure you know too, but instead of turning away - you’re shivering figure wavers in the dark. You’re terrified enough to reach for his hand and hold it. You know what’s coming, but that knowing does nothing to save you. You were a victim to fate from the moment you met. Yet, you still look to him for comfort in safety because even knowing better, there isn’t anything you can do.

And it’s just like you, to want to trust and forgive him. To reach your hand out hesitantly and try. Everything is tangled up and you are terrified and Gojo Satoru loves you.

“Come on,” He says, encouraging you to get closer. He reaches over your bed to scoop you into his arms and you don’t do so much as protest “Let’s go home.”

Gojo brings you home quietly.

When he enters, the T.V. is still on. You are curled up in his arms. He has no idea how long you’ve been crying and about what in particular - but that’s okay. Tonight, to him, is something like an anniversary. Like any time before, he has no intentions to treat you roughly.

It’s a good night, he thinks. Even in the state you’re in, Gojo can only think of making it even more memorable. You’re an injured thing in his arms. A delicate bird with clipped wings, or a butterfly with a missing antenna. Without Gojo there to pick you up in all your broken pieces, you might’ve really fallen apart.

It’s reasonable enough. For someone like you, he’s sure tonight has been so scary. It makes him feel a little sorry for you. It makes him want to make it all worse before he makes it all better.

He can’t describe it, but there is something so right about seeing you like this.

All angry and resentful and volatile. All lonely and scared and saddened and somber. All Gojo’s forever, permanently through everything. He’s made you so completely in his image, something he’s always wanted to do. Maybe you’re a trial run, in its own right, of all the things Gojo will be able to do in the future. What he’s capable of creating with enough effort.

Gojo is gentle to you. Tender, as he carries you into the apartment. You help him turn off the T.V. and put the mug into the sink. He carries you too afterwards, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple, before pulling through the threshold of his bedroom.

Just like that, you find yourself again in Gojo’s bedroom like you were so many weeks prior. You’re weakened and exhausted, so willing that he is endeared. Like this, he hovers over you. Looks at your tearstained face and smiles so lovingly.

Regardless of everything that’s transpired, above all - this is a reunion of two lovers to Gojo Satoru. So in the midst of it, he wipes your tears and kisses your cheek and you don’t pull away. Now you’re so ruined you relish his comfort if only a little, and this time it’s perfect. It’s everything he’s always imagined.

He’ll give you hope and freedom and let you be. Eventually, you’ll come to realize you’ll always need him a little. And it doesn’t matter, does it? That he’s made it that way on his own. Because it’s true. It’s righteous and religious and godly. Gojo Satoru is not god, but he does understand the urge to make something that listens.

He kisses your soft cheeks and hums at you, nose nudging your skin.

“Still feel like crying?” He asks you. You blink up at him like you’re only just now realizing where you are. Some emotion overwhelms you, but ultimately you shake your head no. Gojo grins impishly.

“That’s good,” He says tenderly. He kisses your lips this time, and you kiss back. It catches him off guard but he doesn’t dislike it “You didn’t get hurt did you? And now we’re together again.”

This does seem to incite waterworks in you but you don’t look like you have the energy to cry. He doesn’t push you too much. Though it is fun seeing you like this, Gojo is grateful he has some time to cherish you.

“Scary world out there, y’know?” Gojo says between kisses. He adjusts you, your arms around his shoulders loosely “Hold onto me okay? I’ll make it all better.”

You whimper under your voice but don’t go to thrash. There’s something about you that feels limp. A spirit softened and dampened, like wet soil. Gojo is okay with anything as long as it’s you, and there is some part of this he likes too. How pliant you become under the weight of your fear, so tantalizing to Gojo he can’t help himself but kiss you. Riper than the fruit of Eden. Just as sweet.

He kisses you for longer than necessary. It’s intimate and hopeful. All tangled hands and pulling different parts of you up to his lips.The occasional press of his teeth in your skin, with his senses so high he can practically feel the blood rush through them. Your mouth is soft and warm, the breadth of mint on your tongue. He pushes his tongue past your lips but this time around, you don’t do anything to refuse it.

So accepting like this. Gojo thinks life with you will prove to be exciting.

He rests his hands on your waist and you don’t pull away from him. Such soft skin covered in a sheer layer of sweat. It’s making him dizzy to have you like this, to kiss you in his bed. Again, again, again. You belong here with him and nothing has ever been so true. The euphoria of everything is overwhelming. He can’t get enough of you. Even if in the moment he carved a spot into you forever and buried himself there, he cannot help but want to be spoiled by your lenience and affection. He can’t help himself but to possess all of you so even time cannot spoil iit.

Despite yourself, you touch Gojo back gently. Knowing you, it is a way to deal with the pain. You want to forgive him as much as you want him to save you. You hate him as much as you love him.

From the beginning, everything has been exactly like this. This was the end of all ends.

This is a lesson in divine truth.

You’ve made Gojo this way as much as he’s made you. If Gojo Satoru is to play as God, then he supposes you are much like an owner. Some part of you has made him love you unconditionally. A dog and his master. An animal with a love so violent it shakes windows. Gojo Satoru makes you love him through violent means, and like a dog left abandoned in the snow - your own empathy for his unconditional but broken love makes you protect him. It’s cyclical. It can never change because the universe has ordained it. Because everything Gojo touches is a divination from the heavens.

Where Suguru proves to be a lesson, you are the dues he is owed.

This is a lesson in divine truth.

More simply, Gojo Satoru loves you in his own way. Any loyal dog will chase its owner no matter how far they run. He lives for you, after all. He’s made you in his image. The difference between god and dog is nothing more than a matter of positioning.

You love him back in your own way. Because his character and his tragedy makes it so difficult to abandon him and your disposition will never allow you. You’ll hate and resent him. You’ll grieve and you’ll cry. You will want to turn your back but he will always come to save you. And who can love you so loyally as a dog undisciplined? Who can keep your sheltered being protected like a wild hound?

Spring was an innocent century ago. Winter is here. Gojo loves you.

“My birthday passed recently,” He tells you. You blink at him.

“Oh?”

“Can you guess what I want?”

You don’t do much more than nod. It’s not permissive. You just know better by now, and that too is not something Gojo finds himself pleased with.

“You don’t have to do any work,” He offers you as a reprieve, busying himself once again with undressing you. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought you all those weeks ago “Just don’t run away from me.”

If you notice how heavy the words are, you’re smart enough not to do anything. Even still, Gojo can’t tell if there's a purpose behind it. Perhaps you just know it instinctively not to.

He takes you apart carefully. Careful, thick fingers unbuttoning the front of your shirt. You’re wearing nothing underneath, and the sight of your bare skin is almost too much for him. The hickies have yet to heal, though now they’re yellow and softened by time. Gojo will have to leave more to bring back all the color to you.

He starts at your jaw this time, teeth against your earlobe. Heart in your hands, he knows your body a little better now.

And he takes his time with it this time too. Even slower than before. Even more consuming, even more adoring.

He laps his tongue against your soft skin and eats. Your skin is salty and sweet and Gojo can’t contain himself. He gropes you lightly, planing his palms over your shoulders and squeezing your breasts tight. He’s missed touching you more than he knows what to do with.

Even in being gentle, there’s little he can stop himself from trying to devour. You lay about him squirming as he undoes each and every part of you. He can’t pick which place to go and what thing to do first because he wants so wholly. It’s making his head spin to listen to your sweet and short whimpers. You spread yourself as you lay under him, hands pinned to your sides - demure and needy.

How different it is but the same. Something about how you’re clinging to him so desperately is making him feel sick with lust.

Instead of going any further, he pulls away from you momentarily. He puts his arms on your sides and flips you over till you’re on top of him

The sudden change in position leaves you gasping for air. Gojo gives you an amused grin as you fall forward - as he props himself up on pillows while you try and steady himself. He holds you close to him once you’re all set, face to face like this.

“Don’t run away from me,” He says, more seriously. You swallow. Gojo lets you up until you’re half-way over him. You’re so much weaker than him, moved and manhandled so easily. There’s a target on your back so often and Gojo loves being an arrow.

He kisses the side of your body as you stand on your knees beside him. His fingers hook into your shorts and panties, sliding them off of your body all in a fell swoop. He squeezes your ass slightly, spreading you apart.

“Look at you all bent over for me,” He coos, hands reaching underneath you to toy with your pussy. You whine, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders. “So pretty, baby. Prettiest girl.”

A hiccup bobs in your throat. Gojo moves his fingers lower and lower, familiar now with the feel of you. Your cunt is just as welcoming as he remembers. The idea of making love sends a shiver through his whole body. Blood rushes to his cock like a bolt of lightning in his veins. He pushes his middle finger into your twitching, needy hole.

Another sound, cut off by a garbled word of surprise, falls out of your mouth. You’re soaking. Ripe for taking. Gojo wants to fuck you more than anything.

He takes a deep breath, whispering to your skin.

“Fuck,” He laughs, giggling at the thought of it “I’m gonna break you, huh? Gotta be—shit, need to be extra careful with you, right my love?”

“Please be gentle.” You say at his request.

“Of course, of course but—” He squeezes your hip as he feels his middle finger go into you down to the knuckle. You roll your hips against him involuntarily “You just—you’d look so good so full of my cock, y’know? Been thinkin’ about it for weeks.”

And he has, means every word. You shudder at the confession. He quirks his lips as he fucks into you, relishing in those pretty little sounds that fall out of your lips.

“You like that?” He grunts, another finger to stretch you out a little more for him “You like when I tell you about all the dirty things you make me think about?”

Shame fills you, like Gojo’s lit a match under you. He can feel your heartbeat pick up. Is it the being so wanted or is it the crassness and humiliation? Maybe both. Sometime later he’ll pick it apart more closely. He lets himself talk you through it, so close to your skin as he whispers all the filth to you that he can. Confesses it to you.

“Weeks and weeks, baby. Couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and wet you would feel when I finally took you like this. Gonna make it so good for you, you won’t have to think about anything else again.”

The promise sends you limp. When Gojo finally feels both of his fingers slide in and out of you with no resistance at all, he sighs lightly and pulls away. The loss of contact makes you whine, but he brings you back to his lap now, sitting with your legs on either side of his.

His cock, clothed and restrained in his sweats, swells against your wet cunt. He watches your eyes widen as you stare at it, lucid enough this time to realize what it looks like. He looks up at you, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“C’mon. You can look.”

He guides you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull his pants down slowly, looking up for permission (which Gojo gives in a loving nod) before taking his boxers off too. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful. The tip is a flush red, white hairs trimmed neat at the base and feeling so fucking heavy Gojo can’t stand it. He hisses as your hands reach for him instinctively, and you try to pull away before he stops you.

“Touch it, sweetheart” He encourages, wrapping your hand around it for you “Feel it? That’s all you.”

A flush graces your features. For a minute, it’s all love and nothing more. Nothing less. Too briefly for it to mean anything, but enough for Gojo to know it. You wrap your hands around his shaft and stroke tentatively and Gojo groans shamelessly into you, rutting his hips into the round part of your palms.

“Fuck that’s it,”

He looks at your expression, examining the concentration before chuckling. Your lip is poked out, eyes dazed. He pulls away from you, securing you close to him.

With the new proximity, he holds his cock close to you. Measure it up against your skin, against your tummy. He feels you against him, Around him, folds nudging apart for him, The skin on skin alone has him so breathless. A dizzy sort of feeling as he presses the tip of his cock hard against your clit. You feel like silk around him.

Looking at you like this, all helpless and needy, he can’t help but think about how easily he can overpower you. He’s stronger and bigger. His cock would be enough to split you in half. How he’s gonna make himself fit inside of you spins in his mind over and over. Maybe like always, your pretty little pussy will yield just for him. You’ll open and endure and take him so deep.

He can’t help appreciating it. Can’t keep his thoughts quiet from telling you.

“See that? How deep I’m gonna go?” He measures up to you. A hand on the bottom of your stomach, stroking his thumb “Gonna feel me right in here. You ready?”

You close your eyes and look away. Gojo grabs your chin and tuts at you.

“Nuh-uh. Want you to see. Don’t close your eyes.”

It’s not a question or a request.

So, you watch. Gojo lifts you up just enough to line up with your entrance and sinks you down so, so slowly on his cock. It’s agonizing how slow. It’s incredible how fucking good you feel. How perfect one sensation could possibly fucking be - Gojo could die here in complete bliss. He can feel the stretch of your pussy trying to accommodate. That sensation of resistance that sends him reeling, spine tingling and skin prickling with a heat so intense he feels like he’s going to pass out just sitting there.

And then there’s looking at you, which proves to be an entirely new animal. You have this pinched expression, a shocked little gasp as Gojo pushes through. A whimper leaves your lips. Gojo rubs his thumb on your lower lip as he eases you down.

“Hurt too much?”

“N-no. Just… feels weird.”

He laughs a little at your honesty, before fucking himself into you even deeper. Another inch and he really starts to feel you. Your walls feel like they’re sucking him and Gojo wouldn’t leave if it killed him. He groans, deep in his chest as you shake. Your grip on his shoulders gets tighter and tighter.

With one more smooth thrust, Gojo sits you down on his cock completely. He feels so complete like this. Everything in him is at ease feeling your insides spasm and melt around him. He sighs contentedly.

“Still okay?”

You nod weakly.

“Can I move?”

Your reply is nothing more than a whimper.

So he does, but he does so slowly. Just to get into the rhythm. He thrusts up slowly.

‘O-oh. Oh, oh it’s,”

He chuckles against the crook of your neck, hugging you close to him. He loves the way you feel against his body, the way your frame fits so perfectly into him. He rolls his hips up into you so there’s no effort on you to move. You whine that time, and he does again and again until your voice is a mess.

“Starting to feel good?”

“S-satoru.”

He swears.

“Fuck, stop that,” He swears “Gonna—shit, gonna cum right away. Moving so hold onto me tight, baby.”

You take his words for it. Gojo feels your soft tits pressed into his chest as he pulls your hips up and starts fucking up into you. Each time he does, he feels like he can feel all the way to the back of you. None of his fantasies could compare to the feeling of being this deep inside, cock nudging against that sweet spot that keeps making you fucking mewl into his ear. He can hardly take it as it is now, focusing hard on not cumming until you do.

Making it good for you is his priority. Always has been, but you make it hard for him like you do most things.

“Touch yourself for me, okay?”

You look at him surprised but listen to his request regardless. Gojo takes to fucking you steadily. He builds an even rhythm as he keeps you up, hands firm on your hips as he pistons you from underneath. The pleasure comes in waves, undulates as blood continues to rush to his cock. He’s so hard he can’t think straight but he keeps each of his thrusts consistent, lines them with the pace you play with your clit so he can encourage you to cum for him.

He can tell you’re starting to feel good when your mouth falls agape. He drags on your walls with each punctuated movement and your thighs shake and tense. Everything comes together so slowly but the pleasure comes at once. It’s a force that’s nearly earth shattering. All the planets aligned, everything in the same plane. Everything for him and for you. For the togetherness he’s created and chased after so long.

Now this part of you is all his too.

“Sa—Satoru,” You warn, your hands trembling and fingers cramped up with need. He grunts as he stares up at you through thrusts “G-gonna…”

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock? Go on. Know you can do it, baby. So good for me. Perfect for me.”

It’s all babbling for him now, the sensation hitting him in waves. Your mouth falls agape and you cum so hard Gojo can feel every fucking pulse. Squeezing his cock hard enough he wants to grit his teeth. He presses his mouth to yours instead as you moan out, unable to hold it in. He swallows every noise like he’s trying to embed them into himself.

You cum hard and fast and Gojo is so quick to follow you. Only seconds after you fall limp into his arms does he feel it - no longer able to stave off the urge to cum so deep in you it stays forever. To mark you deeply you never think of anything. It’s almost animalistic for him. Every nerve on his body is on fire as he shoots his cum deep into you, sitting you on his dick with nowhere for you to go.

Panting, he pulls back to gaze on you. He’s still hard as he’s twitching. He can’t hold off tonight, he doesn’t think. But he’ll give you a minute to collect yourself. He presses a kiss to your hairline.

He whispers softly as the night comes to a quiet, quiet still.

“I’m yours and you’re mine baby. Forever and always.”

You shake. And Gojo knows you well enough to know that it’s the resentment coming back in waves. But that’s okay, because Gojo loves you.

And with this, he’s taken everything.

EPILOGUE / OVERTURE :

Your senses are accustomed to Gojo by now.

You never thought such a day would come. You spent the first year of this relationship (if you can call it that, to begin with) in trenches so deep you couldn’t really tell left from right. So many things persisted as normal, but nothing was ever the same.

In that, though, Gojo stayed by your side till the bitter end. He nursed you back into health and sometimes treated you so kindly that you could almost forget who you were dealing with. Sometimes the weight of everything became too heavy. You think you love Gojo almost as much as you hate him.

But it doesn’t particularly matter what your feelings are. Has it ever, in any of this? You always knew that something was strange but you didn’t think you were so clueless. Blindly following wherever his voice took you.

The first time you try to escape Gojo feels like so long ago. That time, he let you go quite far. You made it out of the house and even went out of the country during summer. But you were sloppy and inexperienced. When he found you and brought you back home, you figured it had been a fluke. You’d learn from it. You’d do it again and that time you would succeed.

That’s what you told yourself anyway. It’s how this all started. Where you would run, and Gojo would let you before he started to miss you. He’d come and he’d discipline but it was never too cruel.

(You wished it were. You wished it were sickly and sadistic and tortuous. You think it’s so much worse to beg for mercy when you are sobbing from pleasure. For Gojo to coddle and sedate you and never yield. You think you’d prefer if he were just out of it. Just cruel instead of what he is. Which is knowing but certain. Justified.)

This has been the farthest you’ve ever gotten. You don’t think you’ve ever been this far away from home. A cabin in the woods where you lived peacefully for days. You don’t know how Gojo found you.

You had been so sure. This was it. It had to be it.

Your heart shatters as you hear him. Feel him in your bones so much it frightens you. The world is covered in a sheet of white, and your ankles are bruised and bleeding from where you’ve fallen. You’re cold and your heart is beating so loud - but no matter how much you run you can’t find any heartbeat to motivate you.

Gojo pulls through the thickets with a frown on his face. Blue eyes and black coat, his feet crunch the snow as he comes towards you. You crawl away. You try too, anyways.

Gojo leans down to your level, looking at you closely. He reaches out to brush snow away from your skin.

“My birthdays soon, you know?” He hums, not angry today. Not even wanting to discipline you “It’s not a bad place, y’know? The cabin. We can spend some time there before we go home. Might be nice. But we should get going so we can check on your foot.”

He reaches his hand out to you this time. Too injured to run, you take it and he smiles before offering to carry you on his back. You hop on, arms around his neck and don’t even cry. A numbness settles.

It is not the cold.

“Oh, look,” Gojo says, reaching his hands out “Snow’s falling.”

You suppose it is. Another Winter will pass just like this.

A dog howls somewhere far off in the distance.

#writing tag #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #noncon cw #yandere cw #manipulation cw #coercion cw

1K notes · View notes

paintingwhiteceilings · 9 months

Text

❃Seventeen and s/o switches languages during an argument❃

a/n: Firstly, thank you for sending my very first request; I hope I did it justice! After discussing it together, we decided to make it a more general prompt. This was such a fun prompt to try my hand at, as a fellow EU carat, it was amusing to imagine how they would react to their partner switching languages. Some of these may have become a bit, more like very, long as a result so, well, grab your popcorn I suppose :')

Anyway, it is a bit longer and more serious than my other posts but I hope that you will like it regardless!

TG: some of these are slightly angsty and DK is naked

Scoups/Seungcheol

❀ In all fairness, the two of you tend to bicker every now and then, mostly because Coups is the pettiest and poutiest person alive. As a result, you tend to be quite used to having irrelevant arguments with him. Neither of you gets incredibly upset; the arguments are mostly harmless and, at times, can be quite amusing.

❀ This time, however, you had quite a stressful day at work and were in no mood to playfully bicker with him. Apparently, you had absent mindlessly borrowed one of his jackets, and he had been missing it all day, giving Hoshi an earful as he believed he had gone out of his way to borrow his stuff again. After he discovered that Hoshi hadn't been the culprit, he texted you, but in the chaos of work, you had forgotten to reply, leaving him on read. Truly, in his eyes, how incredibly offensive. How can his love, his light, his everything leave him on read just like his members do???

❀ Cue a ton of whining and pouting when you walked through the door, wrapped in his precious jacket. He didn't seem to get the hint that you were in no mood for his dramatic antics. It didn't take long for you to snap at him, effectively shutting him up. He didn’t shut up, however, because you actually got angry at him, but because you unconsciously switched to your native tongue in your exhaustion. He had forgotten that was a thing you could do.

❀ He has dealt with the foreign line switching languages during arguments enough to know that you weren't having his tantrum. It is enough for him to realize to knock it off, but he will be pouting the rest of the evening. Not because he is still upset about the jacket, but because he has no idea what you said and he is too prideful to ask until the next morning.

Jeonghan

❀ Jeonghan rarely gets mad at people, meaning that arguments between the two of you tend to be infrequent. The only times the two of you tend to bicker is when he finds yet another way to cheat during game nights. The cheating is all in good fun, and more often than not, you find yourself impressed with his quick-wittedness.

❀ That being said, losing five times in a row because your boyfriend found another loophole in the game rules really tested your patience. You had been playing Uno together when he decided that whenever he plays the reverse card, it means he gets to go again. Somehow, he stocked up on a ton of reverse cards, and he had been getting rid of most of his cards without you being able to do anything about it.

❀ Naturally, you started arguing with him, trying to convince him that it was against the rules. It was no use; he knows the rules better than you do. Thus, in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t help yourself, and you cursed at him in your native tongue. He was mighty confused for a second, but was aware from looking at your face that you were not complimenting his quick thinking.

❀ He ended up laughing at you, finding it hilarious that he somehow managed to trigger you that much. Be prepared for him to never let you live it down. Every game night, he will cheekily ask you whether it is okay for him to cheat or whether you will curse at him in your native tongue again. From now on, he will up his cheating antics as well, trying to get a rise out of you again.

Joshua

❀ You and Joshua usually don't let your grievances get to a shouting match. Before it can get to that point, one of you sits the other down to calmly talk things out. However, every once in a while, whenever one of you is stressed about something, things tend to escalate. So when Joshua comes home late after a gruelling recording session for the sixth time that week, leaving you to do all the house chores after a stressful work day yet again, you get into a heated argument.

❀ Neither of you wanted to admit to being in the wrong, leading to you bickering back and forth. Joshua had been angrily smiling at you for the past half an hour, trying to explain his side of the story, whilst you were trying to do the same. Arguing in Korean wasn't necessarily your strong suit, and despite English being a lot easier, you couldn't help but switch to your native language as you were trying to find the right words to explain your side of the story.

❀ To be honest, I can't really imagine Joshua being surprised when you switch languages during an argument. Having lived in an environment where he has to speak a second language constantly, he probably is all too aware that when people get emotional, they switch to their mother tongue. He has had too many quarrels and fights with the other members where he kept throwing in English, unable to remember the corresponding Korean word.

❀ Instead, your argument becomes a poly-lingual discussion where the two of you keep switching between all the languages you are familiar with. Joshua doesn't even blink when you switch to your native language anymore; he is used to deciphering what you are saying through context clues.

Jun

❀ Jun is an absolute homebody. He loves to lounge on the couch for hours with his phone in hand, playing mobile games and scrolling on social media. It is the perfect way for him to de-stress after his busy schedule, where he has to constantly be on the move. Usually, you enjoy the domesticity of it, but lately, you can't help but feel like all the two of you have been doing is staying at home. It isn’t like you constantly want to be out and about, but a part of you wants to go on a proper date where you get to dress up and be lovey-dovey with your boyfriend. You have been trying to find the right time to bring it up, aware that Jun doesn’t do well with subtle hints.

❀ However, when the day finally came where you asked him to go on more dates, it ended up in you two fighting. It had all started when you found yourself bored out of your mind with Jun being on his phone again, absorbed in his own world. For the first time in a while, he got to enjoy a bit of a break as promotions had finally ended, and he intended to spend most of it relaxing on the couch. It was a much-needed break from the constant dancing and travelling. Naturally, when you proposed to go out for the day, asking whether he wanted to check out a café that had just opened up in the city, he immediately responded that he didn’t want to.

❀ Perhaps both of your fuses had been short that day, and soon an argument ensued between you two. Jun stubbornly maintained that he wanted to rest and that being at home together was enough for him, whilst you tried to explain that you felt like he didn’t want to make time for your relationship. The two of you argued back and forth, both making valid arguments but unwilling to hear the other out.

❀ Jun was already mixing some Mandarin with his Korean as he got more and more frustrated. It didn’t help either that Jun had started to speak quicker the more agitated he got, making it even harder for you to decipher what he was trying to say. Thus, as the fight reached a boiling point, you started to yell at him in your native language. Jun had never heard you speak your mother tongue at length before, so you completely caught him off guard.

❀ Jun doesn't know what to say in response to your yelling, not knowing what you yelled at him in the heat of the moment. Similarly, you are surprised at your emotional outburst. You switching languages is enough for the both of you to realize that neither of you was listening to the other anymore. After a moment of silence, the two of you decide to leave the argument for the night and calmly talk about it after a good night's sleep.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Hoshi has been trying to convince you that his native language is growling, being a tiger, and all that. As much as you try to support your boyfriend’s tiger agenda, you have attempted to dissuade him from growling at you constantly as a way of communicating. You gently told him to stop as, first of all, you can't understand what he is trying to say when he is growling, and, secondly, it is very embarrassing when he does it in public.

❀ Still, he is waiting to find any excuse to growl at you, and you have noticed that whenever you slip into your mother tongue, he sees it as a green light to start. As a result, you try to be extra careful about using your native language around him in public or when other people are visiting. At home, you feel comfortable enough to, at the very least, scold him without anyone else having to bear witness to how shameless this man can be.

❀ It had all gone downhill when you and Hoshi organized a game night with the other members. It wasn't the actual game night that resulted in you yelling at him. Oh no, it had to do with the fact that Kwon Soonyoung has the habit of leaving the toilet seat up despite you having asked, on multiple occasions, whether he could lower it after he finished his business. For the past few days, he had been doing a good job remembering, but with all the excitement of the game night, it had slipped his mind. He was reminded, however, of his mistake upon hearing a splash and a blood-curdling scream leave the bathroom door.

❀ You were livid upon entering the living room and reminded your boyfriend yet again to lower the god-damn thing. In your anger, you slipped into your native tongue without being aware of doing so. You didn't even register it until you saw Hoshi's stunned and guilty expression morph into one of absolute delight.

❀ He growls. At you. In response.

❀ It is safe to say that the other members have to hold you back before you kill your boyfriend.

Wonwoo

❀ Usually, you loved having a gamer boyfriend as it meant that you got to focus on your own hobbies, happily existing in the same space without having to constantly have to do things together. Lately, however, you had been trying your hand at some of the games he had been playing. It was a fun pastime, and you especially liked games that didn’t require a fast reaction time, allowing you to explore a world or story at your own pace without it resulting in you constantly dying. Not to pat yourself on the back, but you had become quite skilled at the games you often played. Recently, you and Wonwoo had even started to play games together; you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw your joined beds in Minecraft.

❀ So, when Wonwoo asked you to play Keep Talking & Nobody Explodes together, you had expected the two of you to do rather well. However, it couldn’t be further from what ended up transpiring. The game required seamless communication, with one person trying to disarm a bomb whilst the other consulted a manual on how to, unable to see the actual bomb. The first level had been easy enough, but you guys immediately got stuck on the second level. Each level was more complicated than the last one and was making your way through the game rather painfully slow. For some reason, your communication was completely off, resulting in numerous retries. It didn’t even matter who the operator or who the bomb disarmer was; you simply couldn’t get into sync.

❀ You could tell that Wonwoo was getting incredibly agitated when you were taking way too long to read the Korean instructions to him, unable to understand one particular word, causing the bomb to explode yet again. He had played the game with some of the members before, and it hadn’t been this hard. It didn’t help that he kept trying to give you tips and tricks on how to play the game. It felt a bit condescending. Moreover, you could tell he was partly blaming your Korean when he sighed yet again at another failed attempt due to you fumbling over your words. It wasn’t as if this was only your fault. As a result, you snapped at him that he should try to play in your native tongue and see how easy of a time he had with it. Except, you accidentally snapped at him in the wrong language.

❀ As you continue rambling under your breath, venting to yourself that your boyfriend and the game are both stupid, you don’t notice that you switched languages. Wonwoo, in the meantime, has fallen incredibly quiet, unsure how to react. He realizes that it might have been a bit unfair to play a game that requires you to communicate complicated instructions in Korean. When you are finally done ranting in your native language, he will quietly propose playing a different game, muttering a quiet apology when you two agree to switch to Stardew Valley. He makes sure to give you lots of gifts in-game, trying to show that he appreciates you playing with him even if it doesn’t always work out well.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ You were aware that when you started dating Woozi that he was a bit of a workaholic and that there would be times when he would prioritize his work over your relationship. For the most part, you loved his dedication to producing music; you enjoyed hanging out in his studio, watching how he expertly produced a new track. You always felt in awe as you watched him tinker on the piano, trying to figure out what chords to use for the song. In turn, he loved having you there; your questions and curiosity reminded him of the wonder he felt when he first started producing.

❀ However, his passion for making music sometimes did make you feel like a third wheel in your relationship, especially when a Seventeen comeback was nearing. He would be cooped up in the studio for weeks, ignoring all the messages you send him. Where he normally loved having you around in the studio, he would become easily agitated with you watching over his shoulder as the deadlines neared. The expectations of the members and the company would weigh heavily on him, and having you be there as another watchful eye was simply too much for him to handle.

❀ So, when you went to the studio after a concerned Coups had called you, noticing that Woozi hadn’t bothered to eat that day, your presence put Woozi over the edge. It had been a couple of weeks since you had last seen your boyfriend, and you had hoped that seeing you would cheer him up. However, he barely acknowledged your presence when you stepped into the studio, his attention captured by the screen in front of him. Whenever he did respond, it was often curt and borderline insulting. You knew it was due to him being under a lot of pressure, but you couldn’t help feeling hurt.

❀ It got to you, and before you knew it, the two of you were fighting. Woozi, who already was feeling immense stress, couldn’t deal with the intense emotions and, hence, defensively threw out a painful insult without thinking. Feeling the tears sting in the corner of your eyes, you asked yourself why you were even still here when he obviously didn’t want you there in your native language before turning to leave. He didn’t understand what you had said, leaving him momentarily speechless.

❀ By switching languages unexpectedly, it gets through to Woozi what he had said and how hurt you were by his words. By being unable to understand what you were saying, he is able to solely focus on your tone and emotions. He feels incredibly guilty about his behaviour, and it doesn’t take long for him to chase after you to profusely apologize.

DK/Seokmin

❀ Although fights do not often happen with DK, he sometimes can be a bit prideful, only recognizing he is in the wrong when the other person gets noticeably angry. You encountered his pridefulness on a normal enough day. DK had texted you that he would be over at your place after practice, so when you came home and heard the shower running, you were delighted at the prospect of spending the evening together with your boyfriend. You briefly called out to him that you were home before waiting for him on the couch to finish showering. It didn't take long for him to be done. When you saw the door swing open with your handsome boyfriend only wearing a towel around his waist, you got up to properly greet him with a hug.

❀ However, before you could do so, you smelled a familiar scent drifting out of the bathroom. You see, one of your friends had gifted you a very expensive body wash that you had been gingerly using whenever you had had a particularly stressful day. Due to it being so expensive, you had asked DK to use the other ones in your shower, just so you could enjoy it a little longer, as you weren't really going to buy it for yourself once it ran out. He hadn't listened. Cue one of the pettiest arguments ever.

❀ In your defence, you weren't even upset about him using the body wash, but instead were hurt that he hadn't respected your wishes. DK, in turn, argued that it was only body wash and that he had simply wanted to smell like you. The argument escalated without either of you meaning to, and before you knew it, a towel hit you in the face. In surprise and anger, you yelled at him in your native tongue, which made DK effectively realize what he had done. He knew that you would never switch languages without being incredibly upset and he felt mortified, recognizing that he had not only let his emotions get out of control but also had parted with the only thing covering up his body.

❀ As you threw the towel back at him, venting in your native language some more, you finally noticed DK standing before you in all his glory, looking both guilt-ridden and like he wished for the ground to swallow him whole. Seeing him standing there butt naked was enough for you to crack up, breaking the tension from the argument. DK, on the other hand, wasn't sure whether to profusely apologize for throwing the towel at you or hide for the rest of eternity.

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu often feels like the perfect boyfriend; he loves to cook and clean and lives to pamper you whenever he is able to. He takes your teasing very well, enjoying when you cheekily poke fun at him blatantly showing off his trained physique in front of fans. Although staying in Korea can sometimes be overwhelming, he truly makes you feel right at home. He strives to introduce you to his friends and tries to make as many new memories with you so that you wouldn’t have to miss your home country too much.

❀ When you guys moved in together, you had been ready to have it be another cherished memory. That was until Mingyu dropped a very precious ceramic bowl. The bowl had been a present from your family when you moved out, and you had dragged the bowl with you all the way to Korea. It was a meaningful keepsake you had taken with you from your home country, allowing you to have a piece of home in a foreign place. You had mostly used it as decoration in your previous apartment, and you were incredibly careful when using it, knowing that once it fell, it would be incredibly difficult to replace.

❀ Consequentially, when you watched your boyfriend drop it onto the floor, shattering your treasured keepsake into a thousand pieces, you felt a part of yourself fracture simultaneously. Mingyu didn’t seem to recognize what he had broken, sheepishly apologizing to you before jokingly remarking that the bowl had been rather ugly anyway. You knew he wasn’t aware of what he had broken and that it would be unfair for you to get mad at him, as it had been an accident after all. Nonetheless, seeing something so important to you not only get broken beyond repair but also mocked, set you off.

❀ As a result, you started yelling at a stunned Mingyu, who wasn’t expecting your explosive reaction at all. In turn, he got aggrieved, feeling like your reaction was disproportionate to the situation. Voicing that, however, only made you more upset, and as you tried to pick up the broken pieces to throw them out, you started crying, sobbing to yourself that it truly was beyond repair in your native tongue.

❀ Mingyu, in retrospect, doesn’t know whether it had been your crying or you switching languages, but as he watches you tearfully throw out the pieces, his anger completely vanishes, only to be replaced by an intense feeling of guilt. He will hug you tightly, apologizing for breaking something that had obviously been very important to you. After you explain what the bowl stood for, he will try his hardest to get you another bowl as a surprise, contacting your family to have them send over a new one.

❀ In the end, all is well, and to be honest, you might love the new bowl a lot more as it reminds you of how much Mingyu genuinely treasures you.

The8/Minghao

❀ Minghao and you had decided to go on a wine painting date; you had stumbled upon it not too long ago, excitedly proposing it to your boyfriend, knowing it combined two of his favourite things. Minghao had been looking forward to the date for the past week, feeling giddy despite the exhausting dance practices. He would tell anyone that would listen about the date, gushing over how well his girlfriend knew him.

❀ It was an absolute surprise to both of you when the workshop ended with you arguing. The workshop had started innocently enough, with you guys following the instructions, laughing whenever a brushstroke failed to turn out how you had intended. The wine tasted great, and both of you were amazed that the workshop was pouring such luxurious wine.

❀ However, as the workshop progressed and the teacher made his way past all the other participants to check on their progress, things turned sour pretty quickly. The moment the teacher laid eyes on you, he was enamoured and absolutely oblivious that you were on a date with your boyfriend.

❀ At first, you assumed that the teacher was only being nice when he lingered longer at your station than others. You presumed that he was being friendly and that, with you and Minghao being the last people he needed to check up on, he stayed to kill time until he needed to introduce the next set of instructions. You failed to notice that Minghao had grown awfully quiet as you conversed. When the teacher reached over to guide the paintbrush in your hand, you started to get the hint that the teacher was trying to hit on you.

❀ Minghao, on the other hand, had been noticing the glances from the teacher since the beginning of the workshop. Although he prided himself in rarely being jealous or upset, the wine made it harder for him to let his gnawing feelings go. He knew his anger was unfair and misplaced, but it didn't make him feel any less upset. Even when you gently let the teacher down by telling him that you and your boyfriend could figure it out yourselves from here, the hurtful feeling persisted.

❀ Thus, when you turned to him afterwards to check on why he had been so quiet, only to be met with a curt Minghao, you began arguing. You knew he was jealous, but he had started to take it out on you. Thus, you did the only thing you knew that could possibly cheer your boyfriend up and shake him out of his jealousy. You took his face gently in your hands, rambling sweet nothings in your native tongue.

❀ Minghao loves hearing you speak in your native language to him, feeling like nothing is more intimate than only him being able to understand the sweet nothings you are saying. He will momentarily blank as he tries to process your sweet words. It is enough to melt away his jealous feelings, making him feel a bit stupid for letting it influence his actions and words (as well as any hope the teacher had to get your number afterwards).

Seungkwan

❀ We all know that Seungkwan likes to nag and tease, not a stranger to playful bickering. Nevertheless, Seungkwan strikes me as someone who is very open with his emotions, preferring to discuss what is bothering him rather than bottling things up. Thus, you two rarely get into actual fights, as he ensures that you two regularly talk about the problems you experience as a couple. At the same time, Seungkwan is a bit of a sensitive boy, and sometimes it is easy to get into arguments with him without either of you meaning to let things escalate. A joke might not land and instead hurts his feelings, leading to an angry and butthurt Boo.

❀ During some of your playful fights, he noticed that you struggled to keep up with his Korean, switching to your native language in frustration when the Korean escaped you. He couldn’t help but feel slightly bad about you having to constantly accommodate him, which is why he devised a plan. Without you knowing, he spend a significant amount of time online skewering the internet to search for basic sentences, mildly insulting phrases and not-too-harsh curse words that he could use if you guys got into another playful argument. Instead of only you having to struggle in Korean, he felt it was only fair for him to wrestle with your native tongue as well.

❀ He finally gets to use it when you guys have a heated discussion over which coffee is the best on one of your many coffee dates; he keeps maintaining that Iced Americano is the best coffee that exists, something that you wholeheartedly disagree with. At first, you are able to respond to him in Korean, easily countering his arguments. However, as the discussion progresses, you can’t help but feel like Seungkwan intentionally is using advanced and eloquent Korean, using words you have never heard before. It doesn’t take long before you start switching out Korean for your native language, trying to hold your ground in the discussion.

❀ It is kind of comical when Seungkwan whips out a list of standard phrases, curse words and insulting sentences in your language, way too eager to use them. Rather than you surprising him by switching languages unconsciously, he is catching you off guard by using your own language against you. He is reading the sentences one by one, and although his pronunciation leaves a lot to be desired, you can tell he put a lot of effort into learning it. You don’t even know whether to be impressed by the fact that he poured so much work into arguing with you in your native language or offended by the, albeit mostly harmless, insults that he is hurling at your head.

Vernon

❀ Vernon strikes me as an emotionally mature person. Therefore, the two of you rarely argue with each other, if at all. Vernon is such a chill guy; it takes a lot to truly get him riled up, and even when he gets emotional, he is capable of maturely handling his emotions. Because of it, you haven’t had any real fights, only mature discussions on how to best navigate whatever problem you two were experiencing in the relationship.

❀ However, there was one thing that you and Vernon could argue for hours about, films. Usually, your film discussions are very civil, with each respecting the other’s opinion even if the other wholeheartedly disagrees. Hence, you guys have made it a routine to put a film on every other night, spending the rest of the evening talking about what you liked or disliked. Both of you enjoyed watching films together in this manner, with the discussions often taking up as much time as watching the films did.

❀ Tonight, however, you made the mistake of putting on a film you adored for nostalgic reasons. The film had been produced in your country, and after searching for it for a while, you had finally found a version with English subtitles. You were incredibly excited to be able to show Vernon the type of films you had grown up with. At first, you thought he was enjoying it; Vernon seemed absorbed as he watched the screen, nodding to himself when he appeared to like a particular scene. Nevertheless, once the film had ended and you eagerly turned to ask him whether he had liked it, he briefly hesitated before calling it mid.

❀ You stared at him in confusion, wondering whether you had been watching the same film. How could he call one of your favourite films mid? Sure, the budget might not have been spectacular compared to a Hollywood blockbuster film, resulting in some questionable CGI and cinematography choices. Still, it was a great film, in your opinion. When you asked him to explain himself, he shrugged, explaining that he simply thought it hadn’t been that good and that both the plot and cinematography left a lot to be desired.

❀ You were greatly offended, and before you knew it, you were heatedly arguing with him. Vernon remained calm rather than matching your energy, explaining that it was okay for you to like a film that just wasn’t his taste. Somehow his indifference annoyed you more, and before you knew it, you were ranting at him that he simply didn’t get how innovative the film was despite the constraints the director had to overcome. Perhaps by being exposed to your native language for such a long time, you brain got reset, and without you being fully aware of it, you had started using your mother tongue. Where before Vernon had been attentively listening, he now seemed lost, alerting you to your accidental mistake.

❀ It was the first time where you had switched languages in his presence, and he realizes that perhaps he had been overly critical. He will gently propose that maybe he was unable to fully enjoy the film as much as you did due to things getting lost in translation. You know he is mostly humouring you, but regardless, it is enough for the one-sided argument to dissipate. How can you stay mad at someone who is the definition of calm and respectful?

Dino/Chan

❀ In retrospect, you should’ve listened to Jeonghan’s warning when you decided to order Soju during dinner. Neither of you had expected to drink, but after a busy workweek, the two of you had decided, “Why the hell not.” You were massively regretting it now, having to deal with a drunk and stubborn Lee Chan.

❀ He refused to do anything you asked of him, and you were practically dragging him through the streets of Seoul, whilst he kept repeating that he wasn’t drunk and could take care of himself. Yeah, sure, he definitely did not keep stumbling over his own feet and was only kept from falling by your grip on his arm. It didn’t help that he kept trying to dislocate himself from you either, claiming that, as your boyfriend, he should be helping you.

❀ It all came to a boiling point when you decided to hail a taxi, too tired and exhausted to continue carrying him. Jeonghan had told you all about stubborn drunk Dino, but you had hoped that you, as his significant other, held enough sway over your boyfriend to coax him into the taxi. Spoiler alert, you didn’t, and instead, the two of you got into an argument. No matter what you said, he kept repeating that he could hail his own taxi. He’s a big boy now.

❀ Maybe it was your sore muscles from carrying him, perhaps it was Dino stupidly refusing your help the entire time or possibly it was the taxi driver warning that he would drive off if the two of you didn’t get in, but suddenly in the midst of your sentence, you switched to your native tongue. In an attempt to get him moving, your tipsy, fuzzy brain resorted to the easiest language for you to yell in. Apparently, that was all it took for Dino to shake himself out of his stubbornness.

❀ The poor guy will be so confused that he’ll easily let you drag him by the arm into the taxi. He can’t determine whether he is truly so drunk that your words have become illegible or that you actually spoke a different language. At the very least, for the time being, you have managed to break through stubbornly drunk Dino, and he lets you guide him whilst he is trying to figure it out in his fuzzy brain.

❀ He will definitely be asking you about it the next morning whilst nursing a massive hangover, thinking it was all a dream.

masterlist

910 notes · View notes

littlemochabunni · 7 months

Text

1-800-TROUBLE

Serial Killer!Suguru Geto x Bimbo!Fem reader

Content: 18+ MDNI!!! Serial killer Geto, Bimbo bunny girl reader, fuckboy victims, blood and homicide mention, implied roofing, knife play, deepthroat, degrading (slut, whore) + praise kink (princess, baby sweetheart, love), daddy kink, Multiple O’s, & Creampie

A/N: Ahhh sorry for the delay my sweet freaks, but I did it and I must say holy shit I’m nasty 💀; AND UM HELLO?? THANK YOU FOR 1.1K?!?!? I seriously cannot find the words to describe how happy and grateful I am for each and every one of you <3. I love you and enjoooy 🖤

wc: 3.7k

On your way home from a party you take a few wrong turns, and when you try to call your…. Overprotective boyfriend your phone dies before you get the chance to tell him the cross streets, you’re at. With it being late on Halloween night, most of the house porch lights are off your feet continue to carry you down this foreign neighborhood until you hope to see someone could help you. Tears begin to sting your eyes with each street corner you turn, and the nip fall air strips you of any warmth from your cropped puffer jacket Suguru made you wear before you left. You definitely wish you listened when he warned you repeatedly to charge your phone too…

Police sirens are blaring in the far distance from where you originally started which means only one thing… “One of the officers can take me home!” Right…

Trying to follow the sounds to guide you out of the maze of houses you’re lost in. You find a group of men sitting in an open garage, drinking with the tv on in the background. Although you know Suguru told you not to talk to strangers especially when they’re drunk, what other people were around that could possibly help you?

“Excuse me? Hi, I’m like super lost…Can I borrow your phone or a charger please?” Every one of their eyes grazes over your body before meeting your eyes, and of course the man that looks spot on for a Chad speaks up first, “Ooo a sweet bunny girl like you all alone? Need me to come warm you up?” You glance around the garage spotting the space heater near the couch he’s sitting on and a bright smile appears on your face. “It would be nice to get out of the cold while I charge my phone!” You happily skipping inside the garage to sit near the heater and immediately feel so much better now that you're off your feet… Little did you know that with this little interaction…. you won’t be back on your feet anytime soon.

All eyes are on you and you're like an innocent hare unaware of the foxes preying in the tall grass.

“So, you gotta a name sweetheart?” Asked the store-brand version of Derek Shepherd. “Uhh I’m a bunny, duhh?” The men all blink at you before bursting out in a fit of laughter. You don’t understand how that was hilarious, but you’ll take it as a compliment. “Funny and cute… But seriously what’s your real name?”

Hearing that emergency number Suguru always tells you to remember if you're lost coming from the braking news announcement about some house party incident. You focus on the tv and ignore Chad’s questions, “Hey can you turn the tv up? I think I know that number.” The extra quiet man, who remains you of your friend's creepy uncle Lester, turns up the tv and it retells the gruesome murders of the house party that just occurred half an hour ago….

“The next image we show may disturb some viewers…”

Grumbles and tsk scatter among the men around you as they get a glance at the gruesome writings on the wall. You squint your eyes as you notice a similar stamp Suguru uses when he writes you love letters…. Your stomach drops at the thought of someone else using that beautiful stamp for something so… horrifying.

“This message along with a description of the women and the phone number were left at the scene of the crime…” The woman proceeded to describe you from the hair on your head to the holographic boots you’re wearing. The men in the garage are too drunk to realize that you’re exactly what the killer wants, “Please if anyone has any information regarding this woman… please call: 1 (800) 876-8253… That’s 1-800-……TROUBLE… Again, that number is 1-800-876-8253…”

You begin to feel guilty about making Suguru so worried about you that he had to go to the local news to find out where you were. Tears fill your eyes as you quickly try to turn on your phone only to realize that you forgot to plug it in, “Sorry um… I really need to call that number. Can I use one of your phones please?” Chad looks towards you smirking smugly, “Oh sweetness, I’ll let you use my phone only if you put your number in it too.” Your teary eyes brighten as your request is going to be made possible, “Oh thank you soo much.”

Chad hands you his unlocked phone and you begin dialing the number with a bright smile on your face as it rings, “I hope he answers... I know he's so worried.” You don’t notice how Chad’s smirk fades nor the other two men grumbling about how long it’s been since either of them have gotten laid... As you mention a ‘he’ Chad scoffs as soon as the phone is answered, “You got some fucking nerve to be using my phone to talk to another dude… you fuckin’ tease.” You pout as Chad lets his blue balls speak for him and off brand Derek Shepherd snorts as he turns the tv off, watching every unfold between the two of you, “Hold on kay’? You don’t have to be so mean...” You hear heavy breathing on the other side of the phone which pulls your attention back towards your initial plan, “Um Hello? I’m the woman that the lady was talking about on TV? Daddy told me to call this number if I got lost? H-Hello?” A familiar growl is heard before a distorted voice rings through your ear, “Where are you.” The rough demanding voice sends tingles down your spine and your frown quickly turns into a smile of relief that you’ll be able to get home safely. “Uhh let me ask them real quick,” You look between store-brand Derek and Chad like you’re so close to winning the lottery, “Uh what’s the address?” Derek gives you uneasy smile before looking away and Chad holds his hand out asking for his phone back, assuming you thought he’s going to tell the person the address for you. “Oh, he’s gonna tell you for me, here ya go!” As you pass the phone back to Chad, and he gets up and walks into the house...

“Ay don’t bother coming to get the girl or calling this number back. She’s gonna be too busy taking my dick.” Chad says boastfully, “The only dick she’s takes is mine.” The distorted voice says darkly. “Ha not tonight big guy. You can have her back in the morning.” Chad says before ending the conversation…

A few minutes of awkward silence goes by before creepy uncle Lester gets up to shut the garage. Chad comes back to the garage with two beers in hand before handing one over to you and sits back in his spot of the couch, “So did he tell you his way here?” Chad takes a swig of his beer as he glances between Derek and Lester, then gives you tight smiles and nods. “Yeah yeah… might take him a while, so you should get comfortable sweetheart.” With the good news you smile brightly and tap your nails against the glass bottle softly, “You know we never got you name little bunny?” Lester speaks to you for the first time, but his eyes don’t meet yours. He’s too busy undressing what little clothes you had on. “Well neither did you silly! I mean it is Halloween. Do names really matter?” Lester tsk at your response and mutters whatever under his breath as he struggles to open another beer in his drunken state. “Aren’t you gonna drink? Don’t need you wasting our beer and our time.” Chad chimes in with his half full beer in hand, although his words are bitter his tone is sickeningly sweet as if he was speaking to a child.

“Oh! Actually, I don’t drink beer it’s like super gross. You got like a soda or somethin’?” You chuckle as you place the beer on the table. An uncomfortable feeling sets in as the men stare at you. They all exchange looks between each other, but a late night.... An extremely late-night trick or treater knocks at the door before anyone can act or say anything... Derek is the one to get up to answer the door, “Who and the hell let’s their kids out this late...” he grumbles as he walks into the house. Lester grabs your open beer off the table, but Chad warns him not to, “Now now... You shouldn’t drink the lady’s drink. Have some respect dude.” Lester waves him off, but grungily puts your drink back down on the table. “Sooo is that a no to having any soda?” Both men ignore your question and Lester turns the TV back on.

A few minutes go by since Derek went to go answer the door, and just as Chad gets ready to go check the situation, his phone begins to ring with the caller ID being Derek himself, “Dude where the hell did you go?”

“Sorry about your boyfriend, all those muscles didn’t help much.” the distorted voice rings through his ear and chills ran down his spine, and he doesn’t react too kindly to this prank, “Who the hell is this?” Chad spits venomously into the phone. “Why don't you come find out, filthy monkey.” The call ends before he can respond, and Chad being himself isn’t the type to pussy out to any threat... Yet something in the back of his mind is telling him not to go... “Bro let’s go see what’s going on...” Chad taps Lester leg to as he dozes off, “What? Why the hell do I have to go?!” Lester protest, “Don’t be a pussy and get up.” You perk up as they both get up to head inside the house, “Ooo can you get me a soda too!” Lester is the first to head inside the house, and just before Chad follows suit, he turns on his heels towards you with an irritated look, “You’re cute, but dumb as rocks y’know that sweetheart?” You pout and he leaves you in the garage alone.

Ten minutes go by, and a lot of banging and muffled voices are heard from inside the house, but Suguru always tells you not to go digging your nose into other people's business. So, you reach over to grab your phone... which is still dead because the charge itself wasn’t plugged in, “Goddamn it! Guru is definitely pass pissed off by now...” You bend over the back of the couch to plug the charger into the wall.

“Your incompetence never fails you does it Princess?” Suguru’s voice startles you, but his appearance is something straight out of a horror movie alone, “Aww Guru, you scared me! Aww, and you did dress up for Halloween after all! I wish you came to the costume party.” As you ramble on and on, Suguru gives you that same smile he always gives you when you’re so oblivious to the dangerous things around you. He sauntered towards you, luring you deeper into a false sense of security. Not that you would notice any of the rage he was feeling… No, he made sure that you would feel just how angry he was when you’re his good little mindless cock—

“Y/N.” he utters as you continue on about how you wondered about and met the men, he had the pleasure of coming across himself. You’re lost in your own world which isn’t helping you out of the punishment of Suguru’s wrath… only makes it harder and harder for him to fight the need to carve his name into your skin.

“My poor poor little slut. You have no clue how much trouble you are, do you?” You gasp as he grips your hair at the base of your skull, forcing you to strain your neck to look into his darkened eyes, “I-I ‘m sorry you had to go to the news to find me, Guru… I won’t be so... S-so careless next time…” Suguru chuckled humorlessly at your words and his grip tightened causing you to whimper. “It's always next time with you… Next time I tell you to do something you fucking do it. Do you understand that you brainless brat?” You nod slightly which only angers him further, Suguru press the very same blade that took the lives of the people from the party and those disgusting pricks in the next room, “Use your fucking words or I’ll cut that pretty little voice box of yours from your throat.” Tears well up in your eyes as you swallow the fear in your chest, “Y-yes daddy.” you mutter timidly. Suguru’s grip loosens slightly, and he gives you a sadistic smile, “That’s my good girl, now stay very still...” He slowly glides the blade down from your throat to the harness of your costume, you keep your eyes on his as he swiftly cuts the leather fabric like it’s nothing. “You have no idea how many people I’ve killed just for looking at you Princess… How many times have I told you to stay out of trouble, hm?” You look around as you think about each time Suguru has told you and you begin to count each moment on your finger, and he laughs mockingly when you do so. “It’s a rhetorical question, dumb bunny.” You pout confused at his statement. “Soooo was I supposed to repeat the question?” He presses the blade against your cheek with light pressure and he smiles as you stiffen at the sensation, “Let me do all the thinking for you,” Suguru unbuckles his belt with his free hand, he pulls out his throbbing cock from its restraints and you gasp softly at the sight of his cock stands a few inches above your lips, “Open your mouth princess.” without hesitation you open your mouth, relaxing your jaw as he slide his cock down your throat with easy. Pushing your face closer to his pelvis “That’s it princess, just relax don’t think.”

Your eyes roll back as you choke with his thick cock down your throat. You squeeze your thighs together, attempting to gain some sort of friction. Suguru groans out feeling you gag on his cock; he smirks as he glides the blade down the laces holding your corset together cutting away the fabric slowly, causing you to flinch.

You gasp at the stinging sensation when the blade deeper against your skin, “Now did I tell you to move princess?” Suguru scold you as he pulls you off his cock, “I-I’m sorry daddy I just really like this outfit...” He mentally rolls his eyes while caressing your cheek and smiling at you, “Don’t worry about that love. We can always replace materialistic things, but we can’t replace you, so stay still like a good girl.” He brushes he cock against your lips, and you gleefully take his cock down your throat once more.

Gaging and moaning at the feeling, he curses under his breath while gripping your hair into a makeshift ponytail pushing his cock deeper down your throat, “Fuuuck baby— such a good little slut. My good little slut, yeah?” He cuts you free of the suffocating corset letting your breasts breathe freely, your eyes water while you look up at him.

That was just what sent him over the edge of holding back, Suguru sets the blade on the couch and grips the back of your head to pull back slightly leaving the tip his cock resting on your tongue, “Take a deep breath f’me sweetheart, time I fuck your throat properly.” Before you could even take in a complete exhale, Suguru shove his cock back down your throat, fucking it relentlessly without any mercy in sight the sounds of his loud groans fill your ears, “Sh-Shit— y-you fucking attention needing slut. You love pissing me off, don’t you? Showing your ass to all those filthy fuckin’ monkeys.” His harsh words leave a pool of excitement dripping down your thighs and the lack of oxygen you dig your nails into his thighs, desperately needing his cock to fill your cunt.

Suguru grunts as you do so and roughly pulls out of your throat, and a long web connects your swollen lips to his tip. You cough roughly whilst finally taking in a deep inhale, “Daddy please? Please fuck me! Can’t wait anymore please? Ple—” Suguru grabs you by the neck pulling you up to your feet, and your bodysuit falls to the floor. He growls into your ear, and more tears fill your eyes as you squeeze your thighs together tightly, “You’re already crying, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” Suguru chuckles darkly while caressing your wet cheek, “If you’re this much of a mess just from sucking my cock, I can’t wait to ruin your cunt.” You let out a choked moan as his grip slightly tightens around your throat, “P-Please?” Begging him to ruin you just how he wants... With those wet red eyes, tears-stained cheeks, swollen lips...

Suguru’s grip tightens as he pulls you closer to whisper in your ear, “Bend over now.” He releases his grip and picks up the blade once more. You step out the bodysuit completely, placing your knees on the couch with your ass in the air then lowering your upper body down to rest on your forearms. “All soaked just from sucking me off? Or did those monkeys get my slut excited, huh?” Suguru glides the blunt side of the blade against your thigh and hip while spreading your slick slowly with his fingers. Shuddering at his touch and the blade against your skin, “O-Only you daddy! Can only get this wet from your tou— mmn!” You whimper softly as the tips of his fingers tease your clit, deepening the arch in your and his cock twitches at the sight. “Such an eager little bunny aren’t you sweetheart?” Suguru places his knee on the couch behind you while keeping the other on the floor.

He taunts your cunt with his tip making you wiggle and moan, “Keep. Still.” His icy voice kept you still as a statue and from making another sound all together. You’d forgotten about the blade against your skin all together, too excited for his cock being deep in your guts…. He’s still pissed off and he’s not letting you off that easily…

Without warning he bottoms you out, pushing every atom of oxygen from your lungs, “You really thought I’m gonna fuck you because you deserve a treat? Oh no princess.. I’m taking away your privilege of being able to walk freely without every step remaining you that you.. belong… to me..” Suguru bullies your cervix with a few more deep thrusts before pulling out, giving just a few seconds to fill your lungs with air again and he slips back into your cunt while gripping you hair to keep you from running away. “Su-Su!— D-Daddy! Wa— fuuuck!” His cock keeps your brain from calling out any mercy you think he’ll have on you, without realizing you cum around his cock and only broken words and screams can be heard. Suguru pulls you up from the couch and bites on your neck harshly, marking you in the most mundane way he can. Fighting his sadistic needs, “Don’t try to talk your way out of this now Princess. Remember you begged for this, so take it.” He growls in your ear while dancing the blade up from your hip to your navel. Fear and pleasure overwhelms your senses as he continues to fuck you like he absolutely despises you, and taunts you with the sharp object against your skin. “D-Daddy pleeease! Ah a— ‘m sorry!” You cry out while panting heavily and drool begins falling from your lips, yet Suguru ignores your pleas and opts for you muffled screams instead. “Bite.” He brings the handle of the blade to your lips and without question you bite on the handle, muffling your sounds. Suguru stops his movements all together leaving you to throb around his twitching cock buried inside of you, “So you listen when you want to and not when you need to, is that right y/n? Or is it because I fucked the remaining brain cells you have outta ya, you can’t complain now?” Hearing him say your name your rolled back eyes start to focus, and your breathing becomes heavier as he only speaks your name when you’re in the type of trouble where no one and nothing could save you from him…

“Oh don’t worry precious. I’m not gonna hurt you… You’re gonna feel real good. I can promise you that, but you don’t get to stop cumming on my cock until I say you’ve learned your lesson.” Suguru takes his free hand and grabs both your wrist, placing them behind your back, giving your neck a kiss before thrusting inside your cunt at an animalistic speed. Your mind short circuits causing your eyes to roll back and muffled screams to leave your lips, “S-Shit you like when I fuck you like this, don’t you? You love being my little brainless whore.” Suguru’s words are confirmed when you scream as your second orgasm hits you harder than the last, and your body trembles uncontrollably. Suguru groans as you tighten and cream around his cock, leading him to chase his high and he tightens his grip on your neck, pulling your body back against his like you’re his personal fuck toy. “Be a good doll and milk my cock, yeah? I just might forgive you for the trouble you caused.”

In your fucked out state, you do as you’re told and bounce back on Suguru cock, trying to match his pace. “That’s it princess. That’s it— Fuuck~” Suguru shoots his load deep inside your cunt, triggering another orgasm of your own. Drool runs down your chin as you tremble and moan out, Suguru groans in your ear and takes the blade from your lips to kiss you passionately. “D-Do you f-forgive me daddy?” You croak out as you look at him with heavy eyes. His raven hair brushes against your cheek as he whispers, “Oh.. Oh princess….. Not even a little.”

A/N: Somewhere along the way during my….. research I ended listening to Badjhur annnnd I haven’t been the same since.. But anyways! Thank you so much for reading!!! 🖤

tags: @fuyuaika @ykimobessed @smolbeanzzz @bontensbabygirl @euvwia @etherealmaya @macsimagines @hoshigray @biscuitsngravie @tojisbutterfly @bunz-lover also!!! If you don’t see your tag it’s because tumblr wouldn’t let me 😭😭 I promise I haven’t forgotten about you 🥺🖤

633 notes · View notes