#everything in one place and all :P

[knightowl-studios]

“This is a warning for Kray Foresight - free all captive Burnish immediately, or I’ll burn Promepolis to the ground!”

Many hours, layers, micromanaged bg assets, and egregious amounts of colorpicking later, it is finally done //passes out

As soon as I watched Promare I was legally obligated to draw the dragon.

Please do not reupload without permission!

(Very ramble-y) process notes and wips below the cut:

[[Shoutout to Tamberella’s wonderful city brushset, the bg would not have been possible otherwise!]]

I had to cross-reference so many stills and gifs from the movie in order to try and recreate the atmosphere and style XD This whole drawing was also the perfect excuse to whip out the polyline tool again, it’s one of my favorite things to draw with but I don’t actually use it much for...some reason lmao.  Habit?  Who knows...

As you can see, it was initially supposed to include his lil arms, but I couldn’t find a way to make them flow well with his line of action and had to exclude them (which was a bit painful as I was really happy with how the claw shapes turned out).  I figured since the film seems to cheat it the same way, it was fine for me to do it as well XD Though I don’t have a capture of it, originally his body was also in a more straightforward loop-de-loop kind of shape.

I wanted to put special focus into the pose and sense of action (two things Trigger really excels at), namely when it came to the head and jaws.  I noticed that in a couple of shots the dragon’s jaw is “broken” - opened at an unrealistically wide angle - to better emphasize the action, and while I didn’t take it as far as Trigger did I wanted to try and capture something similar in my own way.

The windows required SO much micromanaging.  I blocked out a “template” of windows using one of the brushes in the mentioned set, grid-warped it to align with the perspective, and then copy-pasted it onto each building and then manually went through each one to make sure every patterns of “lit” windows was unique and felt believable.  The process had to be repeated twice, for both visible sides of the buildings.  As far as individual parts of the pic go, that step probably took the longest.

I also really wanted to somehow incorporate triangles into the drawing since they’re so representative of the Burnish and the Promare, and adding some around the face seemed the most intuitive way to do it.

A lot of miscellaneous things were added at this point, such as the ground flares (polyline tool my beloved), the smoke, and smaller details like making sure the dragon felt more “sourced” in the scene by clipping the tail behind a tower.  The background was also blurred, to help sell the perspective as well as keep the focus on Lio.  The flares were one of the hardest things to manage in the latter regard, too, as due to some oversights in my initial color choices they were actually brighter than Lio and stole his thunder!  So it took several different tries to find a way to successfully de-emphasize them without inadvertently making them some weird sickly color XD

If you read through all of these notes, thank you so much, I love you!!  //hands you a cookie

Bonus layer screenshot:

#reupload #personal fav #promare #if you were one of the people who reblogged or liked the original THANK YOU!! #it meant so much to me you have no idea! #and if you ARE seeing this again in the tags please pardon the dust of reuploading it here too XD #I just still like this one a lot so I wanted to bring it to my new art blog as well #everything in one place and all :P

[ducktracy]

proper reupload in the high quality this fantastic segment so deserves; eagle pig and duck bias notwithstanding, this will forever be my favorite variant of the fabled switcheroo (and a reminder that Daffy was first at his own game!) the committal on behalf of both characters--especially the sincerity of Daffy's feigned sincerity--really sets it apart

#that delivery of “don't you believe i'm a fish?” sounds so hurt and it's perfect #likewise i think there are few one-liners/toppers that make me laugh as much as 'i told ya i was a pig' #and that all knowing glance at the audience from Daffy doesn't feel obnoxiously smarmy or self aware #there's a friendly nonchalance to it. a very clear amusement and not in a way that undermines anything this segment is setting out to achie #again. my favorite buzzword: that sincerity! a sincere investment and amusement in watching Porky obliviously and endearingly make an ass #out of himself #and of course the cross dissolve and setup of the composition implying a story/sequence of events taking place within that time... #this short isn't my favorite P+D short--i still LOVE IT A TON but there are so many i revere--but i think it's one of the most definitive #if someone was looking to get a good understanding on their character dynamic this would be one of my immediate recommendations #i haven't had the bandwidth to spread my pig and duck gospel but please #watch Porky and Daffy cartoons #tangential but i've always loved the sound effect Treg Brown uses for Porky dropping the gun #good exaggeration/whimsy while also connoting Porky's stubbornness and that this stupid petty argument is enough for him to lose sight of #his motives and discard his murder weapon. all because of this joyously stupid argument. so i like the self awareness there with how obtuse #the sound effects are #because anyone who is not Porky Pig would have just shot him point blank #and that is everything i love about their dynamic and how Daffy's intoxicating charisma and ability to get people invested even affects the #very characters on screen #gee d'you think i ought to have said more about this scene #lt #duck soup to nuts #freleng #vid

[dutybcrne]

The most openly bratty/fussy Alhaitham anyone can ever get is when he is sick, send tweet-

#hc; alhaitham #//He feels so gross & icky; everything & anything gets So overwhelming; he LOATHES getting sick so much #//WILL make it anyone’s problem if they try pushing him for whatever reason; even if he’s the slightest bit sick #//The only person he’d actively try NOT to ‘inconvenience’ is Kaveh #//But that’s bc he’s WELL aware Kaveh would try & make him being sick his business anyways if he found out #//Even if Haitham would rather he not—bc he knows 1) Kav’s got a lot on his plate & 2) Kav WILL get sick in the process #//Kav surprisingly does Not get whiney or anything when sick—rather; mans LOCKS TF IN #//He got so used to being alone and taking care of himself; mans would NOT ask for help until he is practically passing tf out #//And even THEN it’s begging whoever caught him to finish his task for him; not asking to be taken care of. Would be MORTIFIED if sb did #hc; kaveh #//Bc that’s there now jfbfb #//ANYWHO back on subject #//Haitham gets VERY clingy when sick. VERY clingy; VERY dependent and Vulnerable #//Around his trusted people; anyways #//But ye—if you’re friends; chances are he WILL hunt you down first above all when sick; esp if he had to go in for work #//And he WILL need a little help and attention; any and all of it that can be spared #//Or at the very least suggestions to help with the Ick until they are free to help him more #//In my mind's eye; Nahida is his most sought out friend in such times #//He'd curl up in the Sanctuary of Surasthana and nap the day away the Instant he gets inside. Esp bc she’d never turn him away #//She’d be fucken ECSTATIC to have him there; even make him a nice little place to sleep & everything; dim the lights & not let ANYONE in #//Best of all; she can’t get sick (by regular means) so she’s p safe. He wouldn't be as worried abt her catching anything he'd got #//Would dote so much on him; he’s like a baby brother to her #//Everyone in the rescue squad is basically just as well family to her too #//But he’s her favorite #//dendro god’s specialest boi (after Wanderer; ofc) #//Shh; no one tell the others jdhfbf #hc; nahida #//Whoop there’s that too hebfb

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Smiler’s Otherland -- Domains!

Hi everyone, I’m back on my Smiler’s Otherland bullshit! :D After making my initial “here’s my first ideas on the concept” post back in May 2023, I’ve been trying to get my thoughts organized regarding what Smiler’s Otherland should look like, more details about their weapons, how many outfits they need, etc. And now I’m going to share some of those thoughts with all of you! Because it’s my tumblr and you’re my captive audience. :p

So -- let’s start with the domains! Because you can’t have an Otherland without actual, you know, lands in it. So far, I’ve come up with four domains for Smiler:

Smile Street: The “hub” domain, or at least the domain any visitors would be likely to land in first, much like Alice’s Vale of Tears or Victor’s Living Dead Forest. This domain is arguably the "coziest," and allows Smiler to put their best smiling face forward. :D

-->As indicated by the name, it’s a long winding street lined with brightly-painted houses in all colors of the rainbow -- in fact, here, the shot of Towers Street from this The Smiler ad gives you a good idea of what I’m picturing:

Only, instead of just those spiraling yellow clouds in the sky, there's also a big yellow sun featuring a Smiler-logo face on it, as per this screenshot from this video on The Smiler mobile game: (WARNING -- the linked video does have flashing lights/strobe-like images starting about midway through!)

...maybe a little less overtly creepy, as this is supposed to be the friendliest domain, but you get what I mean.

-->And who lives in those cheery little houses? Why, the Advocates, of course! Who are based on these guys from The Smiler mobile game (screenshot from the same video linked above):

You know, just a little higher resolution. XD They're naturally very friendly, greeting visitors enthusiastically, and spend most of their time wandering around, trimming trees and hedges into spirals, having little get-togethers in each other's yards where they tell jokes and laugh a lot, playing various games with each other, painting big grinning faces on portable easels -- that sort of thing.

-->At the end of the street is -- well, the town SPIRAL rather than square, as the road just spirals in on itself until it stops at a big fountain full of glowy yellow liquid at the center. Around the outer curve of the spiral is a little cafe (which serves a variety of drinks and treats, though many of the drinks glow at least slightly, and the treats tend to have spiral decorations), a playground (with all the equipment painted with yellow and black stripes with occasional touches of purple and white), a general shop selling a variety of goods (which, yes, would basically be the shop from the Smiler Shop TV video, manned by Matt and Carol -- Smiler can put their parents into their Otherland, as a treat), and a train station consisting of a bright yellow covered platform with spiraling columns holding the roof up, a Smiler coaster car (like that seen above) for the "train," and tracks that start out flat but quickly spiral off into wild loops and twists (because, of course, the coaster itself has to serve as transport to the other two "nice" domains). Just a nice place to hang out, chat, and watch the spiral clouds swirl overhead. XD

X-Sector: Named after the section of Alton Towers that The Smiler coaster is actually in, this is the domain dedicated to Smiler’s interest in technology and chemistry (with the actual look of the tech ranging from more steampunky to more cyberpunky depending on the time period of the AU it features in).

-->The domain consists mostly of a big old lab, surrounded by a yard featuring grass made out of green wire, flowers made out of twisty bits of metal with stained glass leaves and petals, and simple conical trees (like the kind you might see in an old Playstation or XBox game before graphics really started taking off -- that Smiler Game screenshot above is roughly the right aesthetic). The sky here would be filled with swirling, spiraling yellow and black clouds, lit with the occasional flash of lightning. It's all very dramatic.

-->The lab itself is divided into two wings, separated by a main hall with lots of optical illusions a la the actual The Smiler station (with various changing patterns on the walls -- be warned, that linked video has a fair amount of flashing lights in it!). The left wing would be devoted to engineering and be filled with things like whirring little hypno-wheel gadgets, boxes with flashing lights, various skittering tiny robots, and other things of that nature. The right wing would be devoted to chemistry and have various workstations covered with bubbling flasks of liquid and hissing tanks filled with volatile gases -- though I'm really tempted to throw in a little bit of Willy Wonka flavor and have a big old waterfall of Joy Serum somewhere in here too. XD I mean, it feels like something Smiler would have -- maybe it flows into a giant pipe to provide the liquid for the fountain in Smile Street? Or perhaps it just serves as the "drinking water" for everyone there...

-->As for residents -- well, I suppose in addition to Advocates in lab coats tending all the various experiments, it would make sense to have Dr. Gladwell from the Smiler Takeover "Fear Test" show at the very least. After all, he is the Ministry's Chief Neurological Cortex Reprogrammer! :p The only thing complicating that is that I wanted to name Smiler's outfit for this area after him...but I suppose I could name it after his role in the Ministry instead... Anyway, the most notable resident here would naturally be the Marmaliser itself -- a big robot wandering around on its five limbs, looking for unhappy people to make happy and coming by the lab to have its Inoculator syringes and Giggler gas tanks refilled and its Tickler brushes, Flasher bulbs, and Hypnotiser wheels looked at and realigned as necessary.

Musical Mayhem: Hey, Victor wasn’t using the name :p This domain is all about Smiler's love of music and festivals and things of that nature, and -- as you might expect -- is strongly based around that whole The Smiler Takeover that Alton Towers did for the ride's 10th anniversary.

-->The domain itself is a giant fairground set in a field of glittery green grass under more of those yellow spiraling clouds, with a couple of black-and-white-cobbled looping paths winding through it. There are various carnival games scattered about (like the "Beat the Buzzer" game where you have to get a wire loop around a metal simplified Smiler logo without touching it, otherwise it'll buzz and you'll have to start again; hook-a-smiling-duck; bag tosses with grinning Smiler-logoed bags; one of those water gun games where you shoot Joy Serum at a target to make something rise up; etc), along with food stalls, comfy sitting areas, and carts where people can get balloons and little sparklers and trumpets to blow. As you might imagine, it's chaotic, but in a good way!

-->The dominant feature of the fairground, though, is a huge stage at the far end -- a bigger version of the Takeover's Celebration Stage, with all the smiley-face decorations but yellow curtains instead of red. There's a few rows of seats in front of the stage for people who want to sit down and watch, and designated "dancing spots" for those who want to dance and sing along. The dancing spots are generally more populated than the seats, as you might expect. XD

-->Again, the domain is mostly populated by Advocates from Smile Street, just enjoying the carnival -- but you can't have a Celebration Stage without Felix E. Lated as the star performer! :D (Again, Smiler can have their uncle in their Otherland, as a treat.) When he's not up on stage singing, he's wandering the fairground, encouraging everyone to let loose and have fun. Possibly Grin-Grin the clown (from the above-linked "Fear Test") also makes an appearance from time to time, creating balloon animals and telling ridiculous stories -- oh, and we probably should also have the contortionist and the magician from the "Meet The Ministry" stage show up too! All the performers for the Advocates to enjoy!

Sanctuary: Unfortunately for Smiler, as stated in the original post, we can’t neglect the spookier, scarier parts of the coaster’s theming -- and that means having a domain where everything is creepy and horrible, to represent their fears about going too far and actually harming people. And thus we have Sanctuary, inspired by all the Kelman-related materials, such as the Smile Always series and the Sanctuary scare mazes (a few clips of which can be seen in this informative video -- again, watch out for some flashing lights)! Hooray! :D

-->The area is a large, underground asylum, accessed by a pair of rusty metal swinging doors spray-painted with "THE TRUTH" in bright yellow (taken from one of the AR spots you could access with The Smiler Mobile Game back in the day -- there's a set hidden away in each of the other three domains) -- once inside, you're confronted with an absolute maze of concrete corridors, all painted a faded white. The place is not in good repair, with plenty of patches of exposed rebar and wiring on the walls and cracks in both the ceiling and the floor. The whole place is poorly lit, with buzzing yellow lights dangling from the ceiling and occasionally sparking or going out entirely. The only concession to color is in the various posters that have been hung up -- images of spirals with DO NOT RESIST written under them, photos of decaying animal corpses captioned with LIFE IS BAD, and various images of people with their mouths distorted into extremely creepy smiles. It's just a very unpleasant place to be!

-->There are two groups of people that live in this horrible location -- the first being the Corrected. These are the asylum's patients, dressed in tattered and dirty white t-shirts, pants, and dresses, who roam the halls and live in the various cells dotting the hallways. Most of them either have Glasgow smiles or various bits of machinery forcing their mouths into grins, and many also have at least a partially-shaved head and nasty scars on their scalps indicating brain surgery. However, the Corrected are all completely non-violent, either just wandering around doing their thing (vaguely giggling to themselves, drawing on the walls with whatever they can find, standing in small groups and laughing together) or hiding away from anyone they think is a threat.

-->No, the actual enemies of this area are the Staff -- the nurses and orderlies who run the place. The nurses are dressed in stained white uniform dresses, sporting dark circles around their eyes, vicious grins accented by dark lipstick, and long claw-like nails ready to take a swipe out of misbehaving patients; and the orderlies are dressed in similarly-stained yellowed scrubs, with the same dark circles around their eyes and vicious grins. The nurses carry syringes to stab unsuspecting victims, subjecting them to a variety of bizarre hallucinations; the orderlies carry shock batons guaranteed to bring patients to their knees. Their favorite activities are to stalk unwitting Corrected, then take them down while laughing hysterically. Not nice people at all!

-->And the person in charge of the whole shebang? Why, that would be Dr. Minister, a Kelman-like old man with a neat white suit sporting the Sanctuary logo, glinting glasses, and a smile that -- well, it's obvious the man's HEARD of smiling, but you're not sure he's ever seen it in action. He's insistent that everything he does for the Corrected is for their own good, and his ultimate goal is to turn Smiler into his apprentice/successor -- and Victor and Alice into Corrected. Smiler, as you might imagine, loathes this guy, and is absolutely terrified of ending up like him. :(

And that's everything I've got for now! It does make me slightly annoyed that I only have four domains for Smiler when Victor has five and Alice -- well, as per A:MR, the minimum is eight (presuming you don't count the Vale of Doom as separate from the Vale of Tears). But I do think that these four cover pretty much everything important when it comes to the coaster, it's themes, and all the events and attractions related to it. Next up, we have the weapons -- which, believe me, was a much easier post to make...

#valicer #wonderland #otherland #otherlands #smiler alton #smiler otherland #this took much longer than I anticipated #because while I had a general idea of everything I wanted to include #pinning down what everything should actually look like proved shockingly difficult! #finally wrestled it into submission though #with the help of a lot of links and screenshots of stuff #I didn't actually want to use Theme Park Worldwide video for the Celebration Stage link #since the video was ultimately very negative about the event and that particular show #but it is literally the only one I had with the 'correct' Felix #aka the brown-haired Felix I first saw and headcanoned as Smiler's uncle #I don't like the blond Felix look nearly as much soooo #also I would have linked or done a screenshot of the doors into Sanctuary #but the only video I could find is by someone I'm pretty sure has me blocked here on tumblr #so it felt weird #look up 'the smiler AR' and you'll find it really easily #and yes minimum eight domains from Alice if you only count A:MR #if you look at all the places she goes in AMA and cross out the ones that are repeated in A:MR #she has fifteen or fourteen domains (depending on if you separate out Queen of Hearts Land from Queensland) #also that weird hub area after the Wonderland Woods #which given the way it looks I would classify as part of The Land of Fire And Brimstone #girl has a fucking HUGE imaginary world is what I'm saying :p #Smiler and Victor have gotta catch up XD #queued

[benetnvsch]

ooooh about to become a sigzai shipper Out Of Spite LMAO

#ISTG I am the monoshipper Ever #once I find a ship I like thats it for those characters but MAN Those s/kk-ers tm are really getting on my- #nerves aaa :') - #saw someone on twt try and say that other d-zai ships diss on s/ kk more than they do on other d-zai ships which??? #No Way #S/kkers have EVERYTHING in this fandom - U can't even post other d-zai ships with those silly 'what about ch-ya' or #'aw ch-ya is sad now :(' or 'this is cute but not s/ kk' comments like stfu FKJHFKJHF- #I Have Even gotten Anon hate for some of my knk/dz arts which is INSANE cuz im a Nobody Artist And hardly even post serious knk/dz #I don't even have 100 followers EHRE WHAT- #but yeah #my entire twitter homepage is S/kk shippers bashing on s-gzai ones for bashing on s/kk shippers which???? #not saying ship hate is cool but they were complaining cuz people were saying that exact shit about abt it and even editing ch-ya into s-gm #place in the new episode like? maybe it makes sense for them to be complaining about that- #please chill for one second and recognize that even though ur 'one of the good ones' there still an overwhelmingly high and LOUD amount of #s/kk shippers who are so vocal and so rude to any other shipper good heaven DKJHFK #all of this is fairly /lh its just so silly it makes my head hurt #people take shipping way too serious as long as it's hurting anyone let #ppl have fun and be silly :'p

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i am Thinking about nine and his hair, how his relationship with it and autonomy, and with caring for himself through it--and lack of such--are so much of a direct response to the type of abuse he went through from sandor, and to escaping from it, and how it is a near perfect foil to five's relationship with his hair and augh AUGH chews on a table it's so interesting and i could write so much about it, i really really wish they had kept NL!nine for that alone

#lorien legacies #LL number nine #LL number five #like honestly if everything else about what they did with nine's character and arc hadn't been Like That #him wearing his hair in a ponytail after the war while keeping it long would have been SUCH a wonderful character moment #an understated symbol of how far he's come #way before his imprisonment he wasn't just keeping his hair long to spite sandor because it was one of the few outlets for control he had #he wasn't taking /care/ of it #he talks about it being a 'tangled thatch' he couldn't get a brush through #(which like there sure is some Loaded Language there depending on his hair type lol 🙃 but given that i'm p sure he's meant to be white) #(and is not mentioned to have kinky/curly hair i'm assuming they probably intended it to be a texture where not being able to get a brush #through it is not a Good Thing) #having it in a ponytail at the end indicates that he's keeping it long and also /taking care of it./ making his body a place to Live In #it's not one of the ways in which he's shown to self-harm to get some measure of control and autonomy back from sandor anymore #and i could go on for So Long about how rey forcing five to have long matted uncut poorly cared for hair that feels miserable #and five rejecting both him and his control by Shaving All of It Off /and/ doing so for his own comfort #and because it expresses his presentation in a way that he likes; are foils to this #but ahhh AHHHHH it drives me FERAL i want to explore it so much from nine's end and i wish the writers had done it themselves #NL!nine #LL tag #dyn: lost boys #dyn: i was always the better liar #abuse cw #self-harm cw

[earlyspringtranscendence]

the things that are generally wrong with the volstovic cycle are made (naturally, by virtue of the setting and pov characters) so much more egregious in shadow magic but like. kouje & mamoru are unfortunately still the only prince/retainer dynamic i’ve ever read like nothing else compares. sorry. forever.

#like again this book is really really horrible politically like i read it for the first time when i was ... 17 maybe? and definitely like #way less educated although even then i could tell that it uhm. werent great. but re-reading it im like HOLD on. this is so not it #but then there's bit from mamoru's pov on page 318: 'let me' he said and i let go immediately allowing his capable hands in place of my own #i remembered how we had stood in the same positions once though reversed. i had been the one to adjust kouje's hair #all his fine braids gone as if they'd never been there to begin with. #did the accomplishments mean anything if what one had to show for them was gone? was i still a prince if i lived in the forest #with no one to see me but the birds? #'there' said kouje stepping away once he'd finished. 'thank you' i murmured not daring enough to raise my eyes #i couldnt bear it if kouje were to decide that i'd done something unforgivable. not after everything else. #CONTRASTED WITH kouje on p 400: #there was so much of the emperor in [mamoru]. looking at him was sometimes like catching an accidental glimpse of the sun #LIKE ITS THE CORNIEST SHIT IN THE WORLD BUT I FELT IT. THAT SHIT WAS GENUINE. #like that never excuses the everything else of it all but i do think its fascinating how they write their characters thats def where their #strengths lie !!! characters and interpersonal dynamics #(like lord temur and the volstov diplomat (''diplomat'') trio anyone #?? i love that shit) #recently read

[s1renidae]

always fun hanging out with my much cooler and more interesting childhood friends and hearing about all the shit they're up to and then they ask me what's going on in my life and i have to be like uh. nothing tee hee :) still unemployed and not in school and practically hobbyless because of chronic fatigue and executive dysfunction :) still obtrusively mentally ill and for some reason cant stop talking about it even when i don't want to and i can tell youre sick of hearing about it :) and then it's awkward for a minute cuz neither of us know what to say mmmmm literally someone just shoot me already

#note i use the term “childhood friends” loosely bcuz theyre my friends from middle school when i was like 13/14/15 #but i dont have any actual childhood friends bcuz no one from my actual childhood likes me. so :P #and like the thing is im being harsh on myself i know that!!! i draw and go to concerts and do volunteer work and rock climb sometimes #but the thing is i never think to say any of that one because they take up a very small amount of my time most of my days r just wasted awa #and two because they always ask after theyve talked about their lives which are. objectively way cooler or at least more successful #and then all i can think about how is how much i wish i was more like them </3 which has been true since we first met #so i guess i should be used to it but I'm not. it still hurts it hurts so bad #and the worst part is they both mean so so much to me even if we dont talk much and i know for a fact i don't mean the same to them #bcuz theyre the type of people who can. go places and do things and talk to people!!!! so theyve always had more options then me #but i always made friends so rarely and so fleetingly that im still holding onto those memories and onto them for dear life #idk long rant i wish i had more energy i wish i didnt struggle so much to make friends and find community i wish i had more to offer #i wish a lot of things that can just never happen #and i know its not fair to drag them into my self loathing like that and i know i can't hate myself into a version of myself i can love #but fuck man its so hard. why is everything so hard #.txt

[vamptastic]

danganronpa is whispering its siren song to me but alas nobody shares my big brain million iq opinions (drv3 hater) (korekiyo defender) (ishimaru understander) (celeste and hifumi apologist) (kaito hater) (protagonist love triangle poly advocate) (post sdr2 anime enjoyer) (fucking hates the writing bar the first half of sdr1 and ending of sdr2) (never even finished v3 because it was so dogshit terrible and also i genuinely can barely get through the minigames) (problematic psychological horror fan)

#the executions were not gorey enough they were not even that camp. except the celeste one. #leon baseball one was good. the korekiyo one had potential. kaedes ROCKED. taka's concept version was cool. everything else was shit. #everything about the way they wrote korekiyo drives me fucking insane ive written essay length posts on it before. i care him okay. #let me project onto the predatory fem gay man stereotype incestual serial killer. #mostly because his writing was wildly homophobic + transmisogynistic and a horrible depiction of abuse #but had so much potential for a genuinely good character if theyd pulled their heads outta their asses and deconstructed the tropes #which is what danganronpa is all about thats what makes the first game halfway secent #ughhh. its just so frustrating how all the writing js so close but so far. #like genuinely this is one place where i think fandom and fanfic is better than the original #say what you will but it's one of the only fandoms where ive felt p much all fanfic and headcanon done genuinely #has told a better and/or more complete story while keeping the original concepts and tone #unfortunately most of the fandom is insane and/or too preoccupied with shipping (understandable. i guess.) to like. engage with it fully. #and there's still such a dearth of content for my faves #kiyo is like at best a side character and at worse written as even more of a parody of himself 😭 #theres literally like four people in the world who get it max. korekiyo eating spaghetti is still my favorite fan art of all time #...anyway. idk why im thinking about this rn but im nostalgic all of a sudden #i never really got invested into any of the crazy fandom stuff i just read old fanfic and watched from the sidelines #but me and a couple friends had a lot of own interpretation and theories and fanon sequel ideas n they mean a lot to me yk? #genuinely got me to do a lot more writing and art even if it was all korekiyo themed. im like soooo good at drawing him now (lie) #he's still my litmus test for picrews if i cant make him it's shit. he literally just has long hair a mask and pretty eyes. simple elements #anyway whatever he will live on in my head forever.

[gender-euphowrya]

refreshed, healed, content, thriving, ready to take on the world <- just reorganized his desktop icons

#was tired of my steam game shortcuts taking up the whole damn screen #and having to like. maneuver them around so i could still see my background #so i found this software that lets you like. basically put your icons in little compartments #and you can scroll through them and all. and it's So customizable #you can put the boxes wherever you like resize them resize the icons change the color #there's even like a labeling system for the icons ? you can tag them things like ''work'' ''leisure'' ''important'' & all #and then organize with that it's p neat #Mostly though you have an option to make the compartments invisible unless you click on the desktop #meaning you get to see your whole desktop image Yeehaw #loving this shit rn #it's called nimi places if you wanna check it out. it free #the only downside i've found is that like. you can't just drag and drop icons to a compartment #basically each compartment is just tied to a folder on your computer and shows everything that's in it #so like i had to make a folder to put my shortcuts in And make separate ones for each 'category' #so say if i install a new game on steam and it adds a desktop icon for it #i'm gonna have to manually put that in the corresponding folder for it to show up in the compartment #instead of just dragging it in and boom done #but eh. minor drawback tbh it'll take like 10 seconds

[potpiehead]

I literally need to change everything because oh my godddddddd

#always trust how you feel about your life after 12:30 am. thats when u are truly worn down by the stress of day-to-day life AND the #reality of the actions you need to take to do radical shit in your life is less of an obstacle :P #your intolerance of your current circumstances is absolute minimum and your aversion to the other option and all that entails is also #absolute minimum #when u just get out of bed and get to partake in the mundane enjoyable things of your actually very bleak life u are fully distracted from #the reality of it #that inner voice that tells u that everything sucks at 2 in the morning and the inner voice that tell you u can get a masters degree and #become a marathoner and a famius professional artist are both you speaking to yourself. its not an angel and devil on ur shoulder those are #thoughts coming from a place of desperation and u should at least write it down and sleep on it and take it seriously #i just applied to a bunch of jobs and moved my school schedule around and im gonna drop the epic 2 weeks notice tomorrow #it feels all overwhelming and horrible but much much less bad now that ive taken at least one step. #the problem is i dont know what i want. well kind of. idk

[gorejo]

▸ manager in public, creampies in private - gojo satoru (hockey player/fwb!)

synopsis: His jinx — fucking the manager behind his coach’s back before every game — has become a rather risky ritual that he’s secretly developed over the years. With you, a regular pattern of his life, Satoru proposes a deal before his final game — the last time he’ll confess, “you wanna fuck me or do wanna date me?”

contents: wc: 15.2k(i am so sorry y'all.... i have no words for this), unedited. fem/afab!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as "girlfriend," pet names: baby, pretty, (there are so many), satoru calls himself daddy as a joke, locker room sex, fwb!, explicit language, p -> v penetration, creampies, lots of fucking. suguru moved to another uni. cunnilingus, squirting, fingering, teasing, mating press, doggy, gojo can carry the reader because he’s strong like that. little bit of Satoru’s pov..

The stadium is cold the moment you walk in. It’s enough to make your cheeks mildly sting and send shivers down your back, leaving the tip of your nose to feel frozen. From the crisp smell of the rink that’s been brushed out just moments prior, to the vibrant conversations of adults and the cheers from children anticipating the next game, everything tugged for your attention. 

At the apex of winter sports, today will mark the champions for the national collegiate tournament for Division I Hockey. 

For the normal attendee or avid fan of the sport, being there should be exciting. 

But it couldn’t be far more inapplicable for you. A nervous pit coiled inside your gut — a dichotomous force of friction that made your heart thump in anticipation, but your stomach churn in anxiety. 

Your mind felt like a fuzz. Guess, it didn't help that your ears also felt plugged, with every sound muffling inside that annoyingly distorted your rational thought — or whatever was left of it. 

Stumbling onto the bleachers with your cheeks feeling hot despite the chill that surpassed your skin, your legs felt wobbly while walking over to your designated seat as the beloved team manager; like a broken record, your mind replayed a moment you had not less than an hour prior. 

“Control him from doing anything irrational off the courts. That’s your only job today.” the head coach warned before making his way out of the locker room, his thick calloused hand placed on your shoulder, his firm grip a forewarning to not disappoint him.

“Whatever he chooses to do on it, he can go crazy all he wants as long as he brings home the trophy. I don’t care,” Yaga Sensei muttered, lowly chuckling as he hitched up his glasses, “you’re good at your job, make the last one count,” he firmly stated before closing the door behind you.

Of course, that was your job and in no way were you going to fuck things up. Every game was the same: regulate your star player, do damage control for his unhinged actions, and babysit him – the prodigy for the University of Tokyo, from doing anything negative that the press could get their hands on. 

Or in simpler terms: control your fuck buddy and do whatever it takes for him to not be so unfiltered — keyword: whatever.

You recalled the week prior, cringing at the aftermath of his actions, with you sowing the repercussions of damaging your almost perfect reputable reputation — a total disaster of an interview, the distress to your migraines you had every game day thereafter from both him and Yaga-sensei.

Granted, conducting an interview post-game wasn’t fun for anyone especially when it was painfully knowing that the reporters were only interested in trying to leach out any information to make a viral post of the handsome center.

His articles sold, and any gossip obtained was always a hit. 

His last article went viral — a hot topic of gossip in all outlets of social media, trending not only in Japan but in other countries as the hot man that kicked a reporter, Gojo Satoru, University of Tokyo’s center, and the most infamous, Gojo’s girlfriend. It was of a photo of Satoru midshot, kicking a reporter with his long legs easily reaching to their face with a cheeky smile while his hands were haughtily in his pants with a blurred figure hiding behind his back, nimble fingers grabbing hold of Satoru’s clothes. 

Surely, pretty privilege very much exists when more than half of the comments of netizens were:

omg look at his legs! He’s so pretty! That reporter deserved it. 

damn, wish I looked that good kicking someone. 

He makes me question my sexuality. What a beautiful man.

Definition of looks like a cinnamon roll, but would kill you. 

Don’t worry y’all! That’s me behind him! I’m the girlfriend 😘

SATORU HAS A GIRLFRIEND? I’M SICKKKKKKK

Is it weird to find this hot? I don't condone violence but if it’s Satoru… 

“So Gojo-san, what do you foresee as your next plan to defeat your rival player next week? Can we expect some friendly competition?” The reporter asked, intently waiting to type up any information Satoru had to give.

Sludging over the microphone, his voice vacant of any enthusiasm, but instead endowed in annoyance, “If he can keep up, then yea. It’s been over a year since we’ve been on the same court, I don’t keep up with his updates but I’m sure he’s been training on his own. He’s good at what he does.” Satoru tiredly sighed, brushing his bangs over his forehead, while lightly clutching onto the mic stand with his other hand, “Next question.”

And of course, the rather infamous question he gets asked every interview. 

“Are you currently dating anyone? I’m sure you have loads of people wanting to date you.” Upon hearing the rather obnoxious giggle of the reporter, Satoru’s jaws clenched with irritation. “Any special plans for the New Year with a certain special someone, specifically maybe the one you were pictured with?” 

Getting questions about his private life wasn’t out of the norm and was a regular occurrence. Usually, he’ll flirt with the idea and throw a little bait to the reporters, but particularly on this day, it rubbed Satoru the wrong way.

“What a stupid question, don’t you get tired of asking who I’m fucking?” Satoru numbly responded with life drained from his eyes despite the rather harsh clench of his jaws, “Well, if you’re so dying to know, I’m currently getting rejected on the daily by a rather oblivious person.”

“Any hints as to who —”

“Why?" he scoffed with a brow raised, unfazed, "so you can go harass her for information? Next question.”

“Hello, Gojo-San could you explain about the rumors that are going around about your fallout with Kyoto’s new center?” Another reporter quickly rode off the previous questions. 

“What rumors?” Satoru furrowed his brows, clicking his tongue against his teeth, briefly glancing at you off to the side. A fair warning that he was getting uncomfortable. 

Talking about his ex-best friend was still a sore spot for Satoru, a breakup without proper closure. 

It happened without a notice, a fallout that occurred in the middle of the season during Satoru’s sophomore year, and for a year he’s been silent until he’s made his return with the rival school.

Closing his eyes to calm himself down, fisting his hand as he clenched his teeth, Satoru annoyingly answered back, “We just aren’t on the same team anymore, nothing crazy about that. It’s normal in sports.”

“Well, people are wondering if it’s true that he betrayed you to give the game plays away to his current team.” The man responded, his ignorance seemed bliss, but the malice undertone with the slight tilt of his upper lip told otherwise.

“Betrayed?” Satoru scoffed, the air in the conference room immediately felt cold, irked from the reporter’s nonchalance in picking at his ego, “the only thing getting betrayed is you when your wife sucks my co —”

On instinct, you rushed over to cover his mouth — fucking idiot — and quickly stated through the mic with a routined rueful expression you’ve made one too many times — on behalf of this dumbass.

“I’m sorry, but we’ll conclude this interview from here on! I thank you all for coming.” 

While leaving, you quickly glanced at Yaga-sensei’s disappointed expression, his jaws clenched as he watched you both hurriedly make your way to the locker room with Satoru trailing behind with your grip over his wrist. 

You were one hundred percent going to get an earful from Sensei.

Gojo dumb fucking Satoru always making your life a complete hell; you were determined to chew his ear off.

“Just wait till we get into the lockers, Satoru” you stated through gritted teeth, your grip on his wrists getting firmer with each step.

“Yea? Ooo I like it when you’re rough with me,” he grinned, the utter audacity of him to take you as a joke, “what are you gonna do to me in the locker rooms?” he gasped, his voice innocent — it’s laughable, really — despite his breath close to your ears with his firm chest right behind you, taunting you to continue with your harmless threats.

It’s cute and makes his cock twitch and quickly pool with blood whenever you’re being dominant — at least when you try to. 

Opening the door, you snapped at him while taking a step in, “You’re fucking annoying —”

But things always seemed to take a turn to his advantage — always. 

The milliseconds leading to the locker rooms were silent — silence breaking the moment you stepped foot into it with Satoru’s lips rammed to yours, his hands hungry for greater access to your body. 

You’re completely caught off guard when his lips come crashing onto yours. The slight grunt of his voice mixed with a hint of a whine when he pushed you against the lockers, your hands naturally landing on his firm chest, easily melting into his grip — a sinful vice he’d been swaying over your head like a pendulum for the past years every time you both snuck around to fuck.

“I fucking tried,” he groaned into the kiss while he rapidly unclothed you. The annoyance that he’d felt a couple of minutes prior all dissipated out and funneled to you. It was apparent in the sheer urgency of his hands ripping off your clothes that his patience was running thin. 

“Ngh, S-Satoru!” your chest felt heavy, your mind feeling fuzzy when you met his carnal gaze, “we need to talk —” you’re cut short when his lips latch onto your neck, his hot breath lacing up your skin as he pulled your arms upward and caged your wrists with one hand, while the other traveled down your stomach, straight to your heated core. 

“Talk about what? How we fuck?” he moaned at the pleasurable feeling of your pussy being wrapped with his favorite cotton panties — the one he jokingly gifted for being his fuck buddy for a year — where soon he’ll be able to play with your cum coated folds while he fucked you against the mirror walls. 

“Oh god,” you huffed in the split moment he pulled away to catch his breath when his fingers started stroking up and down your folds, the tips of his middle and ring finger playing with your tight entrance, “Toru, w-we gotta talk, Yaga-sensei —”

Scoffing out a chuckle, he let go of your lips, his teeth pulling against your lower flesh with his voice deep. He peered down at you with his orbs strictly dilated and dark, “Aren’t you cheeky? Trying to get Sensei involved.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, the throbbing pain of your skin feeling sensitive when his calloused finger presses against it, “but you need me to explain to him how we always fuck behind his back?” 

His hand traveled down your throat, his long fingers organically wrapping around your neck, a pleasing accessory around your neck, “I’d like that, too, it’s thrilling isn't it?” he taunted, his breath brushing against your heated cheeks, “but I don't think Sensei will particularly like what I say.”

“Y-your teammates ahh! —” You barely could let out a whine when his lips came crashing again, gasping when you felt the suffocated tension of your bra unclasping, exposing your breasts to the damp, cold air, the buttons of your shirt falling to the floor, “t-they’ll hear!” you tried whispering.

“They aren’t coming,” He growled, “ I locked the door,” his tantalizing voice contrasted with the sharp pain of his teeth biting into your shoulder, a dainty string of spit hung from his lips as he continued to paint your skin with his marks, felt all together euphoric. 

“But they're more than welcome to listen, we'll give them the hottest free porn.”

You can feel his hardened bulge being pressed against your hips, it was torturous to not cup your hands over his hefty cock. And he knew. He could sense it, feel in the way you pulled back into the kiss, the wanton sounds of your needy breaths pleasantly luring him to want more of you.  

“I need you,” he groaned while releasing your wrists and leading them to his member, having your hands hold his throbbing flesh, now painfully pooled with blood, while he aggressively shoved down his athletic shorts, freeing his very erect cock to spring out.

It was a sight to see — his cock freely nodding with pre cum leaking out of the slit, his head flaring a bright red while his veins bulged down his length. You can feel your mouth salivating at the sight of tasting his pebbled release sitting so prettily on his head. 

It’s embarrassing how you were so weak to his touch, how desperately you wanted a taste of his release, to ultimately end up being completely stuffed with both his cock and his cum filling you up to the brim that it just had to leak out of your tight hole.

And it doesn’t help how your mind becomes a blank slate the moment his fingers stroke perfect circles around your hardened clit, the sounds of his reciprocated desires to devour you echoed so licentiously through your ears. 

And accustomed to, your insides perfectly carved with the shape of his length, your inner walls throbbed, clenched the moment his fingers — one, two, three — slowly stretched out your needy pussy. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” his voice was teasing with a hint of impatience, “good girl," he praised when he feels you innately opening up for him. "show me how much you can suck me in, I wanna feel every inch of you,” Satoru coaxed, “trained this pussy so well, yea?”

Obediently nodding, your arms immediately latch around his neck, pulling him closer to your heated body. And with that, something short circuits in his brain the moment he sees you vulnerably so ready for him. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” Satoru purred, the playful glint of his tone was the opposite of the sheer force he had when he quickly propped up your legs under his arms, pushing you further into the locker room as he rammed his cock inside you, your back arching at the sudden penetration — a dichotomy of pleasure and pain as three fingers surely cannot suffice and prepare you for the length and girth of his cock no matter how many times he’s fucked you. 

“Hold tight,” he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips traveling down to your ears, tauntingly whispering, “I gotta swoon over my manager with a good fuck.”

Aggressively thrusting upward as the tip of his head searched for your sweet spot, your body folded from his strength. It doesn't take him long to find it — gummy and deep — especially when you're trembling and writhing in his grip. "because she just loves my cock, doesn't she?"

“T—toru,” you moaned out, the sweet mating call of his name ringing pleasurable to his ears.

“Who’s my good girl?” cooing as he placed a kiss on your nose, gently smiling despite his cock bullying past your wet, puffy folds, the sharp slapping of his skin meeting your thighs harshly echoing in the empty locker room.

And he swears he saw stars when he hears you.

 — “Me.”

Currently shaking off the memory you had a week prior, you had one job: stop that from happening.

Well, that being another disastrous interview session — sex just so happens to come with it… always.

It’s not like you didn’t enjoy his company. It was rather quite the opposite — you craved his touch and longingly wanted to be by his side despite your words stating otherwise.

In short, you’ve been in denial. A secret you’ve upheld since the realization that he’s crept into your heart and took much more space in it than you would like to admit.

Falling in love with the university’s hot shot wasn’t something you’ve planned to do within your academic agenda. Being prompt with your studies, attending clubs, and enjoying time with friends while studying, with the occasional partying, maybe getting a boyfriend here and there, while accruing a job and work experience was part of the plan. 

Not, him.

More specifically, loving Gojo Satoru, the bane of your existence, the pretty boy with an even devilishly handsome cock, that’s won your heart despite being your fuck buddy, was not part of the plan.

It should be a universal law: to never fall in love with your friend with benefit. And if there was a fine for being defiant of such a law, you would be the one prosecuted and trialed for such a wicked crime. 

And to no surprise, even today, you were no saint. 

Moments before —

“You know?” panting with his arms wrapped around your waists, thrusting upwards while he met your pace as you bounced on his cock.

With sweat dripping down his temple, he sucked onto your perked nipples, groaning when he feels you further tightening around his length — which was already snugly wrapped around him, “we should seriously date,” he frankly stated.

“Shut up,” you groaned, combing through his hair, adjusting your position to move your hips in rhythmic waves, the fire of your thighs making it difficult to withstand this position.

“Why not?” he groaned while pulling you down, cradling the back of your head with one hand while the other motioned your continual movements, his firm touch gratifying and making you feel safe despite the vulnerability of fucking in a public space. 

“I—I don’t ahh ‘Toru that’s too deep! —” moaning from the hitch of his hips, forcing himself to go even deeper, the tip of his cock teasingly poking at your sweet spot as his girth stretched you out — each motion helping him to bottom out.

Your eyes are brimmed with tears as you hold his hair, pulling against his strands while the other digs into his shoulders, marking up his body — it was so easy for him to make a mess of you in such a short time, and he loved it; absolutely craved for it.

“You let guys that aren’t your boyfriend,” chuckling while he pushed your body down, feeling your juices run down his inner thighs, satisfied at how nicely his cock was soaking in your soft walls, “fuck” thrust “you” thrust “like” thrust “this?”

Despite the rather light tone of his voice, jealousy raged inside him. Because there should be no other answer than —

“No — “ your grasping at his back, using any part of his body to find leverage to mitigate the fullness you were feeling inside your tummy — the red scratches of his back and shoulders remnants of your relationship with him.

“Good,” he praised, gripping your ass with a sly smile teased at the corner of his lips, eventually blossoming into a brazen grin when he intentionally stopped his thrusts just to hear you whine out for him again, “and it should stay that way,” he confidently professed. 

Dating Gojo Satoru. That would be nice. 

Commitment issues? Sure, guess you can say you had that.

Insecurities? Most definitely so when your so-called partner was The Gojo Satoru — the university's hottest athlete currently in the process of being scouted to play in the professional league. 

It felt all too surreal, everything inside of you was filled with him — literally and figuratively. From the way his lightly trimmed, now wet with your cum, hair tickled your clit to the way his cock filled every inch of you in one second only to be languid — slow and easy — pulled out and the next, rammed into you like a pistol releasing its bullet.

He usually took his time before games to fuck you, to enjoy and absorb your godly pussy power — he liked to always add while balls deep inside you with your thighs plastered to your chest, his weight pushing against your body, with the silliest smile despite the rather not so silly act he was doing with you.

A jinx, he liked to argue. A just happened chance of a one-night stand, now leading to years of fucking multiple times a week, under his solid impression that without you, there was no success. 

Win after fucking. And a loss without it.

What can you say? Dick was good, but being in his arms felt even better.

It’s a sin. But at this point, did you have any leisure to contemplate if that’s even an option for you to not partake in anymore? 

For someone that sleeps with drool coming out of his mouth, to the obnoxious thirst pics he would send only to you with an even more atrocious emoji ‘😜’ with a little ‘heh’ at the end, he sure gave you butterflies in your stomach; his mere presence made you feel good.

Crying and fervently pleading, with broken moans while every crevice of his cock continually carved your insides with his template, “Right there! — fuck ‘Toru, I—Imma cum please!” and he’ll reply with the most greedy moan as he pumped his seeds into your tight hole.

Satoru liked taking his time, but he also lavished under the thrill of a quick fuck. Desperately clinging onto each other, fucked into an absolute mess while he quickly rearranged your guts — that was his favorite. 

“Can’t talk anymore?” he smiles. At the same time, he painfully fucks you at a slow pace, “Thought you were going to put me in my place?” cock twitching inside you when he notices how swollen your lips have become and the little squirm you release when you feel him growing within you, “it’s a shame, I like it when you curse at me,” he chuckles. 

“Shut up,” you tiredly croaked, “you talk too much.”

“Tired?” he breathed out, looking up with his lips slightly bruised from the feverish kiss you had with him just moments before he chose to open his mouth — the type with tongue with spit drooling down the sides, unafraid to use to teeth to bite and tug.

“Mhm,” you quietly nodded, pulling yourself closer to his body.

“Thought you’d get used to me by now,” he peppered your shoulders with gentle kisses, “you know? by how much I’ve fucked you,” his touch now soft — almost fragile in the way he held you. 

“You wanna try getting impaled by this,” clenching on his shaft for emphasis while you relished in his comfort, “and then tell me if you can get used to it too?”

“Relax,” he coached, chuckling as the padding of his fingers gently massaged your hips and eased out at your muscles, “I hear ya, just lean on me a bit.” 

The warmth of his skin felt nice. The touch of his hand pressing against your body felt like electricity pulsing through your body while the circuits of your neurons flashingly fired to cause the heat of your core to spark in flames when he pressed tender kisses against your shoulders — one too gentle and comforting for a fuck buddy to be doing.

“You know,” he hummed, “dating me won’t be all too bad.”

“Sure,” you thoughtlessly answered back, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, taking a whiff of his natural scent.

“You like me,” he placed a kiss on your temple, “and I think we’re pretty compatible,” he continued to kiss areas of your face, spending time to adorn every inch, “Sex is good, and I’m hot, so I don’t see why you won’t date me?”

“Who said I liked you?” your useless pride spoke before you registered his confession.

“Rude, who’s the one that won’t let me go in the mornings?” scowling as he lightly flicked your head. “and you mumble when you sleep, you know?” he smirked, the tilt of his lips teasing, his crystal blue eyes half hidden from his lids as he briefly looked down at your swollen lips, “it’s cute, but I would rather have you confess to me when you’re not half asleep.”

“You freak,” pouting as you tried hiding your face, embarrassed that you unknowingly outed yourself yet still chose to proudly reject his confessions.

“How about this,” looking up with eyes sparkling with anticipation, “if I make the last point, then you go on one date with me.”

“Is there an option to decline?”

“No,” offended you would say such words, you could practically see every aspect of his demeanor — hair, face, eyes — all simultaneous sulk in unison.

“Then what if you don’t make the last shot?”

“You won’t need to worry about that,” he cheekily smiled, cupping your face to place a soft kiss on your nose before reaching your lips. You can feel his cock starting to harden and twitch, evident from the small hitches of his hips to burrow himself slowly into you.

Leading you into a kiss, pushing you upward to give a little space for him to squeeze his cock inside you, the patience within him to wait for you to slowly sink onto his length again dissipates the moment he hears you tease.

With your mouth gaping open, and eyes tightly shut while your nails dug into his chest, barely managing to garner the strength to go for another round, you always talked so big. “You’re prideful to think one date can win me over.” 

“I mean I already have,” shrugging as he leaned back on his elbows, scanning down to see where you’re both connected. it's arousing when he sees your pubic bone perfectly nestled on top of his, “You’re the one that’s sitting on my cock, no?”

“your mouth is the problem, Satoru,” rolling your eyes while you pushed him away, the heat of your cheeks burning up just as the core of your stomach flared up and coiled inside you. 

Pulling you back, tilting your chin to meet his wanting eyes, “Hey hey, look at me,” he softly breathed, “I’ll be good to you,” he whispers, “I don’t go fucking around other girls, it’s just been you. I promise.”

“ ‘Toru —” you feel him slightly adjust his hips and in tandem, his cock moves deeper inside.

“Shh… just trust me,” shoving the rest of his shaft fully inside you, clenching his jaws and immediately wrapping his toned arms around your waist. From the sudden suffocating tightness surrounding his size combined with the pleasurable sensation of you writhing in his arms, he knew today was going to be a good game — his career best, at the least.

"I'll prove it to you. I'll win."

"what if —"

And through gritted teeth, while he steadies himself inside you, with each breath he emphasized, the gushing of your wet pussy coating his cock, and the desperate whimpers of your moans sounding so organic and delicate in his ears as he prepared you for another climax, 

“Shh... you should know that best, princess. I always finish the job.” 

— 

Squirming in your seat, heart racing as you watched Satoru belatedly enter the rink, shaking out his white hair before putting on his helmet — droplets of sweat peeking through from his prior rendezvous, the slight bliss on his cheeks blooming with the puff of smoke huffed from his mouth. 

Swiftly skating to his teammates to start on warmups, donning a blue and white jersey with white lettering with the number 6, there was a divide of a deep chant of his name coupled with the shrieking enthusiasm of his fangirls whenever he effortlessly made a practice shot. Whenever he slightly even glanced over to the audience, there was a roar of adoration.

“Keep it all in for me, yea?” the source of your migraine chuckled as he held your trembling body. His hands naturally moved to lightly massage your sore hips, the huffs of his solid chest inviting you to breathe and wind down.

In response you reached up to pinch his nipples, groaning from exhaustion, "pervert..."

“it’s my last game, so be nice to me.” 

Fucking you till the last minute he could spare, Satoru decided to be cheeky and shoot his cum so deeply inside you. Huffing curses close to your ears as his arms pulled you further down on his cock, nearly piercing you with his length, his member pulsing with every splurt of his seeds pushed into you.

In conclusion, you’re now sitting in your seat, not daring to move for fear that it will spill. He was usually good at cleaning you up, taking his sweet time to kiss your cheeks and brush his bruised lips against your skin as he steadied his breath. But maybe it was from the nervous thrill he had of meeting his once friend, or the pent-up frustration of this past season that’s gotten to him, but one thing for sure was that Satoru came a lot — your wet panties currently pooled and soaked in his cum being proof of it.  

“What took you so long, was looking all over for you?” Someone chirped behind you.

Flustered from hearing his voice, you quickly turned around, flinching when you felt a lump of fluid squeeze out of your pussy.

Cheekily smiling as he pulled up his skates while apologetically smiling, “I need my strings fixed… wondering if you had any extra?” 

“Haibara-chan…” you forced out a chuckle, trying to shake away the sudden surprise, lightly shaking your head while you took his skates, “I’m starting to wonder…” slowly untying his laces, the cold stadium making it a bit difficult for your fingers to grasp onto the material, “if you’re doing something fishy with these?” 

“... That's Gojo-san,” Haibara mumbled under his breath, sitting down on the bench, the clothes of his uniform oddly too big for his growing physique, “It just somehow ends up getting worn out all the time,” the younger man sulked, “I blame Yaga-Sensei for running us so hard during practice.”

“Mhm,” you hummed while searching through the team bag to find a new pair of white laces, “I’m teasing, Haibara-chan,” opening up the fresh pack to string his skates, “just promise me, you won’t be like him.”

“Him?” Haibara curiously asked, cocking his head to the side, his blunt bangs moving with the angle of his head.

Yes, Him — the one who’s currently in a headlock from Yaga-Sensei for completely blowing off the pre-game interviews.

“Ah, guess you’re referring to Gojo-san,” Haibara looked into the field, and took a glance at you, “but you like him, no?” 

“Huh?” you felt a sudden pang in your stomach when hearing those words.

“Sorry! I meant like friends!” He raised his hands to rectify the tension from your question, cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “You’re close to him, right? We've noticed you both spend a lot of time together,” he hummed.

“Ah, yeah… I guess,” you softly answered, barely audible.

“He’s handsome and friendly, awfully a good athlete, and is smart too?” Haibara was practically bouncing on his seat while bragging about his beloved senpai, “There’s practically nothing the man can’t do!”

“Sure… but he’s the most insufferable human I’ve ever met in my life,” you grumbled, slouching in your seat to hide your face from possibly showing any emotion while talking about him. 

“Really? Wow, I’m jealous,” he whispered, yet his voice chirped in adoration, “maybe he just really likes you, you know… like how close friends do that to each other! ”

Close friends. 

Guess the dynamic of the relationship was of close friends but… not with a good conscience — close friends with benefits.

Despite the nature of your relationship with him, he wasn’t what you imagined. Indeed, you both didn’t start with the most cordial dynamic. You hated him and despised his guts when he “accidentally” stepped on your white shoes while he rushed out of the lockers. 

Normally you wouldn’t mind. Accidents happen and you weren’t particularly fussy about those things to care. But when the contender that stepped on your shoes had size twelve feet, a literal giant compared to yours, of course, you’ll get livid — especially when the dirt of his soles made your shoe look gray from one step alone; furthermore, when he didn’t dare to say a simple sorry. 

You recall grunting, mumbling curses at the stupidly tall asshole, with an even stupid smirk on his face while cleaning your shoes with a toothbrush during the middle of the night. You slept with the intent to kill him the next morning and make his life a living hell when you’re introduced as the team’s manager.

But guess what, Satoru would always have the upper hand. Before you can even introduce yourself, he’s stiffly walking towards you with a hand awkwardly scratching the back of his head while pushing something in your direction.

“Here,” he stares off to the side as he hands you a shopping bag, “I wasn’t sure what size you wore if it doesn’t fit, you can exchange it.”

“What?” you eyed him, unsure why he was acting so weird.

“Sorry, we got off on the wrong foot,” Satoru lamely threw out a pun, hoping the tension would ease out with a small laugh, instead he was met with your unfazed expression.

“tough crowd,” he softly murmured, sighing before leaving the room, “well, the receipt's in the bag if you don’t like it.”

Suspiciously eyeing the bag, you took out the box and opened it. Inside was a pair of shoes that were similar to the ones you wore yesterday before he ruined them, with a little note inside and a rather cute drawing of himself.

‘Hope we can get along. Welcome to the team.’

You felt acid slowly creep its way up your throat, gurgling in your stomach, making it painfully difficult to succumb anymore to this conversation. A stamp of reality that Gojo Satoru may possibly, after this game, become nothing more than a fever dream. 

It’s silly, really. And it was even more ridiculous how you pulsed in your seat, longingly wanting that he would win — not for his own success, but for yours.

“Sometimes I wish he would be —” 

“Yu and Kento, get your asses over!” Despite being from across the rink, Yaga-sensei’s voice boomed as if he was right next to you, breathing down your ear. 

“I think Sensei is calling for you guys,” you interjected, kindly smiling with your eyes as you passed on his skates.

“Oh shit!” His eyes rounded, face paling and body antsy in his seat, “Ahh thank you for stringing these for me.” Bowing multiple times in gratitude as he reached over his skates, “Nanami! We gotta go!”

“Tell Sensei I’m not here.” You could hear his faint voice coming from the corner, his thick jacket covering his whole body with only his laced skates peeping from the bottom.

“I’ll give you five seconds, ” Yaga-Sensei threatened, “or you’re both running laps around the field till you drop tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir!” Haibara immediately stood up, quickly dragging his fellow blonded friend along with him — for someone less enthusiastic about his games and practices, Nanami was always fully dressed for the game. 

“Ahh Gojo-san! Look this way!”

“GAHHH! Gojo-senpai is coming here! My phone! I need a picture!”

The shriek of his fans' screams painfully rang in your ears. 

The chant of his name gets louder, the shrill becoming overbearing when you notice him skating towards your side of the stadium.

“Don’t you dare come here,” you mouthed, your eyes shooting daggers at the smirk on his face.

You could tell — no, you could feel every inch of your body being observed by the audience, daggers being sent in your direction. 

Did he just fucking wink at me? 

It was infuriating just how normal he was on the court while you writhed in your seat, having a mental shock whenever you felt a hot gush of viscous fluid drip onto your panties. 

Satoru makes a crisp stop in front of you, taking off his helmet and shaking his hair. It was comical the way his fans fell to their knees, girls practically foaming at the mouth and guys mentally noting how to up their rizz game like the athlete.

Opening up the side door, he leans against the railing with his elbows resting on the surface, “you good?” he arrogantly asked. Though his words sounded caring, the slight mischievous twinkle in his eyes told otherwise.

“What do you think, Satoru?” You hissed through your teeth despite the friendly smile you gave him.

“Good girl,” he whispered out, just enough for you to hear, “ wouldn’t want you to waste any of it.”

“Gojo Satoru, I swear —”

The stereo briefly shrieks before announcing, “Ladies and Gentleman! Here come the visitors onto the rink! Give them your loudest cheers!”

Immediately you can see his jaw clenching, and the once vibrant color of his cerulean eyes becoming a shade darker as he turned around to face the opposing team. his gaze specifically lands on the team captain — Geto Suguru, Kyoto Spartan’s center. 

“Are you going to be okay?” softly placing your hand on his forearm, worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself and act on his emotions. 

“Yea,” he turned around half-heartedly chuckling as he looked down at your hand comforting him, only to look up with a smug look on his face, “you worried about your soon-to-be boyfriend?”

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you lightly gripped his arm, the look of your eyes solidified his one of many reasons why he fell for you in the first place. 

You were kind. well, kind enough to accept all his bullshit.

“I know, and I am, too.” He calmly reassured with his gloved hand placed over yours, “It’s gonna be a good game, and I gonna make you my girlfriend, so don't fall too hard, okay?” Satoru playfully winked, briefly squeezing your hand before leaving you to join his team,  “I’ll be fine, worry about me after the game because I’m going to need it.”

Today would mark the champions for the Mens Division I finals: the Tokyo Trailblazers vs. the Kyoto Spartans. 

The final terminus of once childhood best friends, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, now stood on opposite sides to be the final victor. Star players of both universities who played together till two years ago now stand as rivals at the collegiate championships. 

“Eyes on the puck at all times,” Yaga-Sensei forewarned, “You’ve practiced with Suguru, and knowing his playstyle should be second nature, by now.” taking a glance at Satoru in his zone, eyes fiercely determined yet his composure was calm, “he’s not in our team, so play aggressive. Don’t ever fall behind Satoru, keep up at his pace and pass when you see the moment.”

“Yes sir,” the team harmoniously responded.

“Yu and Kento, remember to be careful, be vigilant and sharp, especially you, Nanami…” Yaga-Sensei cautioned, the lines of his furrowed brows behind his sunglasses deeply cut into his forehead, “No one else knows your position better than Suguru.”

Sophomore year, summer —

Jinx. noun. An evil spell; a person or thing supposed to bring bad luck.

It all started during your second year of university. 

Just like how everything just happens, so does your relationship with Gojo Satoru. It started naturally — or you would like to convince yourself. 

You were the team’s manager by title, and Satoru’s freelancing PR manager in private. 

“Why the fuck do you always have to make my life miserable!” You hissed at Satoru uncaringly stuffing his clothes from his locker into his bag, “Sensei’s gonna kill me tomorrow,” you groaned, leaning against the lockers and sliding down to the cement floor.

“I think that’s a you problem,” he hummed, taking a glance down at you before he continued to pack his bags, “I told you, I wasn’t going to do that interview, especially after that shitty game.”

“You're doing this on purpose huh?” you numbly asked, the throbbing pain of your head making you feel dizzy, “you’re just a prick that can’t accept a loss.”

“Not exactly,” he nonchalantly responded while closing his locker, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “I just didn’t want to answer the same damn questions I get all the time, that’s all,” he stroked his hair back to expose his forehead before crouching down, leaning on his elbows, manspreading to your level while sitting on the bench, “it’s nothing personal, princess,” he winked. 

His face was dangerously close to yours, almost as if he was taunting for something more than just a petty banter — especially in the way he titled his face, making it so easy to just —

“I wanna strangle you sometimes, you know?” you huffed out, glaring at him gloating down at you with the most irritating grin to exist. 

Maybe it was the anger that blinded your senses but strangely he looked so fucking handsome, especially in his gray sweats that — you scanned him from top to bottom, and you can almost see the definition of his crotch through the lining. he was big.

You can almost bet the pink of his lips was so soft to touch, and plush to suck  — what the fuck were you thinking.

Smirking when he caught your gaze on his lips for a second too long, he drew even closer. reaching down to grab your wrists to grip around the collar of his shirt, licking his lips while he challenged, “It’s your lucky day, Princess. Try me.”

Starting is always the hardest, the rest is easy. 

you wanted to kiss him, badly. clenching onto his shirt with a million thoughts spiraling through your head, mentally cursing him with every possible word you knew. Everything soon became quiet the second your eyes zoomed in on him licking his lips — it was absolutely perfect — glossy with a perfect shade of pink that seduced you into agony.

So without thinking, your lips go crashing onto his. The harsh breathing through your nose sounds impatient and gruff. Kissing him, with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, Satoru immediately reciprocated by pulling you up to his firm lap.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you,” he panted in between kisses while his hand sneakingly ventured under your clothes to unclasp your bra and while the other pushed its way into your pants, harshly groping onto your soft ass.

Despite the tease in his voice, the quick speed of his hands curiously touching every inch of your body, groping and clawing, showed otherwise but leisure. 

“you started it,” groaning as you threw your head back, allowing his lips to peck kisses on your skin and for his tongue to trace up to your chin.

“You’re so honest when you’re needy,” he chuckles, “practically fucking me with your eyes.” Satoru always had a way with his words. He always irritatingly managed to get under your skin, as if he had an encyclopedia written on how to annoy you, he was practically an expert at it by now.

Normally you would scoff at his ego, and throw in curses just for some flavor. But you fell silent, pussy suddenly clenching on the air when you took a peek at Satoru, easily pulling off his shirt with one hand. His warm body was draped in a perfect muscle tone while he molded your breasts to his palm, his mouth sucking on your nipple, tongue tenderly swirling around your areola. 

“ngh shut up!” you rasped, “you’re so full of yourself.”

“Hmm,” he sounded pretty humming in response. Using his lips as a decoy to distract where his fingers were trekking towards, he pulled your panties off to the side to slip his slender fingers to touch your pussy — throbbing, warm, and laughably wet.

“let’s see,” groaning when he feels the warmth of your core, and your viscous juice coat his fingers. He swears that’s enough for him to cum in his pants but with all the willpower he had, he didn't — he couldn't until he's at least fucked you a couple rounds and has gotten a taste of your pussy — he lowly chuckled, “where you’re weak, princess.”

you gasped out a quiet, “fuck mhm, right there ‘Toru — j-just like that — please,” while tugging onto his hair, the hiss through his teeth sounding so melodic to your ears. 

With your fingers harshly entangled in his hair, you tried to register how this all happened. Your clothes were one by one thrown onto the cold floor, with Satoru now shirtless as he littered your bosom with tender kisses, holding you behind your curved waist while you pressed your chest further into his mouth, to feel the gratification of his warm tongue sucking on your nipple.

As his fingers stroked up and down your folds, the lewd noises of your erection squelched loudly while his mildly calloused fingers rendered pleasurable friction to your clit — a new, profound sensation you’ve never felt before, especially not with your fingers or even your most reliable toys. 

And it felt good — so fucking good. 

“you’re so soft,” he pulled out a groan deep in his throat, “hold onto me,” he ordered, his tongue trailing up your chest while he switched positions to have you lie on the bench.

Quickly pulling out his hand from touching your cunt, to strip you from your pants and throw them off to the side, he smirks when he hears a subtle whine subconsciously release.

“No — ’Toru please —”

That's all he needs to hear. Satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs and meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he can see it through your damp panties. He almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. call you out on your ego, but the ache that shoots down to his cock, painfully throbbing in his briefs, banging to be freed, reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself — probably worse and much more needy, desperately wanting, than you can imagine. 

“I got you,” he huffed, pressing a tender kiss on your knees before spreading out your legs to settle in between them, his eyes soaking up every inch of your pussy to have it practically memorized, “I just wanna see you a bit.”

Pulling up your panties and seeing your puffy folds perfectly enveloping the fabric made his cock twitch, forcing his hips to push his hardened bulge against your needy core while a tantalizing, static pulse ripped through his body.

The thick padding of his finger pushes against your flesh. And if there was a pageant for the prettiest cunt, Satoru was goddamn sure you would win. especially with how your pussy softly recoiled every time he poked your wet flesh, simultaneously eliciting an even prettier, desperate moan. 

“god you’re fucking wet,” Satoru purred as he played with just how thick your juices strung onto his fingers, “prettiest pussy I��ve ever seen,” he delightfully praised under a solemn breath.

“Satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most. 

So what better way is there than to play his own game — to tease and have him be the one yearning, begging at his feet.

“Yea?” gaining a bit of your conscience to lean your weight on your elbows,  instead of needly lying on the bench, expecting Satoru to do something — anything, fast, “you’ve seen other pussies? Thought you were a virgin,” you teased while looking down at Satoru, pushing his bangs away from his eyes — his white hair a mess, cheeks heated and eyes dark and dilated. 

but, it’s his game. no one knows the rules better than he does. 

So instead of your expected reaction, Satoru chuckles, and takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, blowing air while he watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing. your hole pulsates in desire as arousal drips and leaves you into a burning mess.

It’s perfect—you’re perfect, everything about you is what he’s dreamed of — no, it’s better, far better than what he's fucked his fist to all this time.  

“Cute, you think so highly of me,” he snorted, unfazed by your mockery, eyes still focused on your pussy, “but you can see for yourself —” Satoru fastly pulled you down, causing you to yelp in shock at how strong he was. his face was now dangerously close to your leaking core, fingers delicately spreading out your folds, to uncurtain your pulsing hole and clit, contently smiling in adoration.

“—if I’m a virgin or not.”

“do you even know where the cli— oh my god,” you sobbed, the heaves of your chest becoming greater the moment you feel Satoru suck on your hardened bud, the plush of your thighs pushing against his head, curving your back as you pulled onto his hair, breathless from how he, too, was desperately eating you out.

it’s jaw dropping hot when his veins bulge and Adam’s apple bob while he gulps down thick saliva mixed with your sweet cum down his dry throat, his palm presses down your stomach to keep you pinned from squirming away.

he hears you and feels that you want him to. so he works, he works till his forearms burn and his biceps beautifully flex every time he fucks his finger into you, completely stretching you out, expertly adding more of his fingers to see your tight rim around his fingers clench in needy desire.

It doesn’t take him long to make you cum. Perfectly in tandem with the pressure of his mouth sucking your clit, to the rhythm of his finger inching deep within to find your sweet spots, guess, it’s not a surprise it takes him less than two minutes to locate it and another minute for you to be gushing. Quivering in his reign, the pleasure overwhelming as you came in his mouth— it’s almost painful how euphoric it felt.

Sucking and lapping every last bit of you while steadily pulsing his fingers in and out as you slowly came down from your climax, it wouldn’t be Gojo Satoru if he didn’t get the last word.

Letting go of your abused pussy with a soft kiss to your clit, his lips down to his chin were drenched, glistening, and dripping with your cum.

“You were saying?” he grinned.

Two hours thereafter, that day, Gojo Satoru performed a career-high of scoring seven goals.

Day of finals, thirty seconds till the game starts —

“Nanami,” throwing his arm around his Kohai, "I always knew you would be most fitting for this position,” a gentle voice welcomed himself.

“Geto-san,” Nanami's voice was emotionless, “you’re more than welcome to come and take it back,” the junior sarcastically jibed.

“Me? Don’t know if Satoru —”

“Get away from him, Suguru,” Tokyo’s team captain cut the rival off, “the game’s about to start, Nanami.”

Suguru shrugs while Nanami swiftly strides to his position as right-wing, carefully watching the scene behind Gojo’s back.

“Satoru!” The raven-haired now standing in front of Tokyo’s center amicably called out, eyes forming a crescent behind the thick black and white helmet, “long time no see.”

Satoru was straight to the point, desperate, “why’d you leave…?”

“No hello? My… Satoru,” the other chuckled while he comfortably situated his stick, next to the puck while both teams waited for the starting bell to ring, “where have your manners gone.” 

“are those rumors true?” Satoru asked while lowering his stance, preparing himself to get the first puck to start the game.

“The rumors?” Suguru questioned, a slight twitch of his lips giving away his faux innocence, “Oh —” scoffing while reciprocating Satoru’s actions, “Ahh, the one about me being a traitor?”

“Suguru, I know you. Tell me the tru —”

A loud buzz echoes in the stadium, Satoru’s words falling blank under the blaring cheers of the fans.

“Taking the lead —” the announcer reported live through the blaring amplifier.

“Guess, we’ll both have to see how much you know me, Satoru,” Suguru swiftly stated in the milliseconds of passing Satoru, speedily making his way for the opponent’s goal.

“— ladies and gentleman, has the Tokyo Trailblazers finally found their match? The Kyoto Spartans will take the lead with player Geto Suguru setting the pace!”

The second period, five minutes till the buzzer for intermission —

Tokyo (3): Kyoto (3)

Grunting as he pushed his way through the defense, despite the chaos of the stadium, he could hear the familiar crisp sound of skates closely behind him, “I heard you’re finally sleeping with her,” Suguru smirked, now skating parallel to Satoru.

“Shut the fuck up,” Satoru grunted, making every effort to keep pushing for the offense, expertly navigating through the rink while juggling the puck past the opposing team, quickly passing the biscuit to Nanami, “it’s none of your damn business,” Satoru hissed out.

“You're scared that she might not like you? ” Suguru breathed behind his ear, “when that’s all you’ve been painfully doing till now?”

Wrong, Suguru couldn’t be more far from it. 

Because since the beginning, for him, noncontingent of your response to him, it’s always been you.

And outside being the gifted athlete who’s endowed with greatness, with you, Satoru had two personas.

the one that desperately fucked you.

Crashing into the lockers, the impact of your back being further pushed onto the cold medal sent shivers down your body with every desperate thrust of his cock into you. It was awfully dangerous to moan out of his name, let alone to even breathe when his teammates were just outside the door.

“Shh, be a good girl,” he grunts while slowly fucking his cock out of you, only to ram it back in with even greater force, while his hand simultaneously covers your mouth, “don’t want people to hear you getting fucked, do we?” 

Muffling your moans with his palm, his cock relentlessly pistols in without any leisure to be accommodating to your aching core. His breathing becomes more hitched as his thrusts become more languid to press deeper — his length reaching as far in as it can go — it would be an understatement if you weren’t scared that he could practically rip you in half in this position.

You grab him. and your nails dig deeply into his back, marking his skin with angry scratches of crimson red. maybe he was a masochist, but the pain of your nails coloring his back was nothing compared to the pleasurable satisfaction he got when your gummy walls suffocated his cock.

Kicking out his teammates, only to fuck behind their backs as they cluelessly started on their warmups before a game was routine.

He’s memorized every inch of your body, studied where it makes you writhe, tremble, and immediately latch onto him for your dear life while he helps you reach your high. 

And right now, he knew. He can feel it in the way you’re clenching down on him that you were close. Not that he had any idle leisure of his own, but just enough to pump his cock feverishly into you, bullying past your abused hole as he lavished in the melodic symphony of his balls slapping against your cunt.

He has you folded against the wall, his arms holding you up and hitched under your thighs while he mercilessly fucked you. The burning in his muscles and the strain he felt in his body was nothing comparable to the heaven he was experiencing with your powerless stance under him while his hips snapped forward, his cock dominating your insides with his hand covered in your drool.

“—Toru please” you tried yelling, only for your voice to fall faint each time he rutted inside you, his cock completely disappearing in your body only to magically reappear to stretch you out again and burrow its length deeply within.

“angel,” he taunted, his breath fanning against your heated face, causing your eyes to swell up in tears when your eyes linked with his, briefly opening up his hand to allow you to breathe, “you gonna be quiet?”

You softly nodded, your insides clenching to stop the weird pressure that was building up inside, “it feels weird here, Toru — ahh it’s too much!” you whimpered, touching your tummy while your body ricocheted from his force.

“Yea? Then cum for me princess, I know you’re close,” he growls into your ear, his hot breath making it even more difficult to breathe, “you’re such a good girl taking my cock so well,” he praised, groaning when he immediately felt you throbbing around him in response.

The moment you see stars and your mind fall blank is when thick ropes of cum shoot inside you. you can almost feel the individual splurge of his hot seeds coating your walls, with every desperate thrust he made to completely milk out his cock, his tip throbbing while he grunted with pleasure. 

“I fucking love —” he rasped out, face nuzzled into the cave of your neck. it was difficult to mesh out his last word from his harsh panting to catch his breath as he felt the lumps of his cum squeeze past his member, still inside you, splattering onto the floor with a warm trail of liquid gushing down his thighs.

“good luck today,” you whispered.

Luck? he didn't need.

But you? he absolutely, detrimentally did.

Or, the latter.

The one that, still, fucked you — because he loved you, like a lover. 

With the days that surpassed as being his friend — with benefit — the more he’s taken a place in your life. It started with freely coming over after practice — fucking, despite not having a game the day after. Your bathrooms would naturally have another towel hung, and an extra toothbrush would stand next to each other.

Groceries were always Satoru’s duty, while you stocked up on the self-care necessities. Satoru particularly loved getting a facial with you with all the high-end masks and oils, cuddling under the blanket while you both watched cringy romcoms.

But it was undeniably his personal favorite when he could give you a facial with his cum splattered onto your face — it’s beautiful seeing you covered with his seeds. Or when his face is drenched in your sweet juice, despite his lungs desperate for air he immediately pushes you further down to sit on his face when he catches you trying to move away.

It’s become a ritual. you've become his religion.

He comes at exactly 8:47 P.M. And you wait for him.

The key to your door opens at the exact time. 

He grins when you walk up to greet him.

“Waited for me?” he softly cooed, placing his index finger under your chin, his lips onto yours while sucking gently before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you both, but quickly snapping when he brushes his thumb across your cheeks.

If the universe orbited around you, he was your centripetal force.

“So pretty,” he praised while looking into your eyes, breathless as if he could be absorbed into it.

“I have food —” 

"Later,” he abruptly cuts you off, pulling you close to his body, ”but, I think —” humming with his lips barely brushing against your cheeks, his hand squishing them together as he confesses.

“— I'm gonna fuck you so hard,” his voice was unusually sweet for saying something so crude, “that you won't even be able to see out of those pretty little things."

You softly gasped, flustered and unsure of how to respond to such a comment. Instead, you roll your eyes as your hands find the back of his head to pull him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

His hands roam around your body, particularly groping your ass before his fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts — his favorite ones that always managed to get him bricked up.

"No panties, huh?" He states with amusement, "Aren’t you a bad kitty acting all coy,” he chuckles.

"Shut up," you retort, your cheeks feeling hot under the pressure.

“You don’t want it?” he rebuttals, taking a step back as if there was even a choice.

It’s infuriating how much power he had over you, enticing you in his grip as you mindlessly frolicked in his palm. And it doesn’t help that he looks… well… he looks gorgeous, dangerously handsome — especially with his hair mildly wet, and his warm body fragrant with cologne and body wash. 

“I said,” wrapping your arms around him, further pulling him by the neck — so close that you can feel the tent that’s bulging under his sweats and the desperation that overflows in his visage while he angles his lips to perfectly match yours, “fuck me.”

“That’s more like it,” he murmurs before kissing you — it’s feverish and wanton, the type that makes you weak in your knees and your core to burn up in flames. 

His steps immediately guide you to your bedroom, groaning and grunting while clothes are being stripped off one by one, leaving a trail of evidence with no intent of stopping the kiss. 

Your feet knock against the foot of the bed, his signal to push you onto the mattress, abruptly ending the kiss as he looks down at your flustered expression with a smirk on his lips. 

Relishing in your gaze, Satoru strips in front of you. Pulling his shirt over his shoulders with one hand, he flexes his stomach and takes his time to get naked.

He knows you'll look — you always do. Outside of being an athlete, what was the purpose of hitting the gym? To catch you lusting after him. He can practically see your mind racing with thoughts, and he couldn't wait to show that he's better than what your silly, pretty, little brain could ever imagine him doing to you.

Examining him from top to bottom, propped up on your elbows, you absorbed the sight of his smooth, toned chest as he stripped, the dentures of his muscles beautifully sculpted down from his chest to the crisp lining of hip dents that led to his crotch. 

Leaning over, his body caging you with his toned arms, he gently places a kiss on your forehead, “like what you see?” he chuckles, “I’m pretty sexy, right?”.

"what the fuck?" you suddenly gasped.

“what?!” he whines — you can see his hair practically deflate.

Brushing your fingers over his chest, running your hand down to his abs, it’s smooth and toned. “thought your nipples would be pink,” you snorted, pinching his nipples.

He flinches at the pain, "it’s a brownish pink, for your information," He states, pouting, “and you’ve only noticed it now after how many times you’ve seen me naked?”

"I’m joking, stupid," You laughed, the melodic tune of your joy ringing in his ears like a constant melody.

“but I’m pretty right?” he pouts, biting your shoulders and softly kissing his denture marks. 

“Yea sure whatever,” you breathe out, throwing your head back as he now kisses up your neck, your heart just about to burst out of your chest.

"Let's get this off, hm?" Satoru kindly asks while tugging on the bra strap.

Obediently nodding, you raise your arms like a kid, and he pulls it off over your head. And unlike the trail of clothes you’ve both left behind, he manages your garment with care — especially after the last one he “accidentally” ripped.

His hands rest on your stomach, fingers stroking every curve before he brings them up to cup your boobs, pushing up your breast to squish it softly.

“Feel good?” he asks, watching your expression slowly unfold in bliss.

And before you know it, he's dragged his hands down to your thigh, his fingertips softly grazing slowly to your panties, getting dangerously close to womanhood.

"Tell me how much you want me to touch you," He whispers, and in response you shove your fingers into his hair, gripping tightly.

The light callous of his fingertips trail over your clothed clit, gently stroking the base with his fingers, feeling your panties slowly becoming more damp with each touch. 

Further opening up your legs, allowing him full access, he immediately takes the offer and ventures further along. situating himself in between your thighs to pull your panties off, kissing your hardened bud while peering up to see you touching your breasts, it’s a sweet sight to see for Satoru — breathless — while you longingly waited for him to just hurry the fuck up. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “That’s fuckin’ cute.”

"Right there-" you whisper, and he nods, dragging his fingers along, slowly moving them around to stimulate you as he sucked on your clit, taking his time to prep you

“You still didn’t —” The vibration of his voice further stimulates your needy pussy, gasping as you curve your back, desperately reaching for more of his perfect stimuli, “answer my question,” he states.

"Don't piss me off," you groan, pushing his face back into its rightful place.

"Goddamn," He mutters, the grip of his hand on your thighs becoming harsher, and the stuck of his mouth further fueled fire to your core. 

"I don't know how much longer I can wait when you treat me like that," he grunts while standing up again, simultaneously pushing down his pants and briefs, wasting no time as he wiggles out of his sweats.

You can see his dick is hard, twitching as it greets you. 

He exhales heavily, stroking his length as he situates his head to brush over your pussy. He’s seen it countless times, but will never get enough of measuring just how far he can settle inside you. The sweet plush of your tummy offers more cushion and excitement as he watches you hitch up your hips, impatiently waiting for him.

"aren't you excited?" Gojo says with a grin, using his thumb to rub circles around your clit, guiding himself past your folds, purposefully missing your entrance to coat himself with your natural lubricant.

He doesn’t even wait for your answer, and wastes no time pushing himself in, pulling out a whimpered groan, allowing your walls to open up and welcome his entrance.

He picks up his pace, rhythmic and balanced while sliding his hands under your hips to lift you up slightly to make sure his entire length can fit inside. 

"You're so tight.” Satoru grunts with a furrow in his brows as he dug his nails into your ass. hissing through his teeth while he continued to fuck through your tight hole, “You don't make this easy for me, do you?" He mocks, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you forward, your naked breasts bouncing with every impact.

You close your eyes, feeling every inch of his cock inside you. The slight tickle of his trimmed pubic hair brush against your clit as he slowly starts to roll his hips.

"You're so —" You whined, concentrating on keeping your sanity every time his tip painfully brushed back your sweet spot, "ngh — lazy!"

"Lazy, huh?" he scoffed, licking his lips like a predator locked in on his prey.

“ahh!” you yelped. within seconds you immediately find yourself on your stomach with Satoru’s weight crushing you from above. flipping you over without notice, wrapping a hand under your jaw as he turned your face towards him to deeply kiss, his feet harshly spreading and locking your thighs apart while his cock rammed into you, his balls splattering your wetness with each thrust.

"Maybe I won’t be so lazy if you become my girlfriend,” He states with a smirk, “just give in angel, you like my cock.”

“fuck — ‘Toru! slow d-down” you managed to cry out his name, his cock mercilessly thrusting into you, “you have n-no,” by now you were a babbling mess at how good he was fucking you, drooling with your lungs burning inside your ribs, “game tomorrow.”

“boo you’re boring,” He provokes, pushing his hand under your stomach to pull you on all fours, “never answering my questions.“ 

It doesn't take long for Gojo to adjust himself behind you. especially since your dripping cunt made it so for him to slide through every time. but it takes moments for you to readjust to him — every new position meant greater access for his cock to rearrange your insides.

“but this pussy will always be my good luck charm.”

It's almost as if you can feel his smirk as he grabs your hips, and begins to roughly pound into you in doggy.

"Look who’s lazy, c'mon, keep hips up, angel," He effortlessly teases, spanking your ass and firmly gripping onto the pulsing flesh.

"S-shut up, asshole,” you hissed, putting your head down on your arms for more leverage — it’s shocking how you’re not flying onto your headboard from the force of him thrusting into you.

"That's rich considering your asshole is right in front of me.” he chuckles, spreading open your cheeks to see your other hole pulsing on top of the one he was currently fucking, the rim barely withholding his girth, “ wanna try anal? it’s pretty, by the way."

"D-do you ever shut up?" You complain, reaching over to grab your pillow to muffle your moans. but in that split second, Satoru catches your wrists and pulls you backward, your back heavily arching and breasts rapidly bouncing in all directions, mimicking the robust thrusts of his cock pistoling into you.

“how can I, when you look so pretty,” his thrusts become more aggressive, “getting” thrust, he watches you crumble, face contorting in pleasure, he can tell you’re close, “fucked? thrust “by” he quickly catches your hand trying to reach down to stimulate your clit, “my” deeply pushing in, further splitting you open in half, the tip of his member knocking against womb, “cock.”

“too much…ahhh—wait! ‘Toru!” The bed violently shook as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs trembled with warm liquid dripping down from your thighs, slowly pooling onto the sheets.

“just say it, princess, you love me,” he growls, thrusting more as he nibbles on your lobes, pleasurable tears sliding down your cheeks as you instead gasp out his name.

“at least your pussy is honest.”

---

“I’m not here to talk, Suguru, get the fuck out of my way,” Satoru growled while pushing the other off.

“Don’t tell me, you still got no pussy to ask her out, Satoru,” the raven hair taunted.

“Nanami!” Satoru called out noticing his wing’s position wide open to shoot for a goal. It was apparent in the way Satoru briefly lost his balance, his composure starting to chip away from the strain of his muscles that he was getting exhausted — a feat Satoru would normally never struggle with until the last couple minutes of the game. 

But speedily passing by and braking with thick shaving of ice spraying from the sudden stop, intercepting the puck when Nanami passes — a gameplay Suguru’s practiced countless times with Satoru — the Kyoto’s center was now in possession of the puck, taking no moment to rest before charging the opposite direction.

In those split seconds, Suguru jeered, “wasn't this our favorite play?”

“Fuck!” Satoru muttered under his breath, quickly changing momentum to skate the opposite way.

And just before the buzzer goes off, Suguru easily angles his stick to chip the puck, the force of the impact causing the biscuit to shoot straight into the net.

Satoru huffs just meters away, dumbfounded at how much Suguru’s improved and curated his craft. A force he once relied upon and leaned on, trained tooth and nail while shedding blood, sweat, and tears together since fourteen now has become a thorn to his side that contrived to bring him down, Suguru bypasses his once best friend, standing in shock.

“are you still in denial, or have I answered your question about who’s the traitor, Satoru?”

Tokyo (4): Kyoto (5)

Intermission before the third, final period —

A tie (6:6)

It was the longest eighteen minutes of your life. no one dared to even speak. Through the chatter and vibrancy of the stadium, only the heavy huffs and gulping of electrolytes of the players were heard. Even Yaga-Sensei just sat there, brows furrowed with his thick arms crossed over his chest.

And Satoru, too, silently sat on the bench, leaning on his elbows parched to his thighs, manspreading with a towel thrown over his head. The heat of his body contrasted with the gelid stadium had faint white smoke radiating from his expended body.  

“Satoru,” you gently called out while handing out a fresh towel for him to use, “you’re going to catch a cold.” 

“Don’t need it,” he dully murmured without taking a second to raise his head to acknowledge you.

“I —,” Yaga Sensei grasped hold of your shoulder to stop you from saying anything regretful that would further disturb him. Biting your tongue, you sighed, “Sure.”

The cold response of someone who literally just rearranged your guts so wantonly before the game, sharing an intimacy with him throughout the years that bloomed into something more than what you’d like to acknowledge than simply being a friend with benefit caused both frustration and helplessness to boil within you for not being unable to help him.

Not like he needed your help, nor did he ever ask. But from time to time, you wished he would let down his burdens with you, and allow you to carry his weight for a while.

Only once has he ever shown you his emotional side. The infamous night when Satoru received the news of Suguru’s departure, you found him drunk in front of your apartment waiting for god knows how long.

all you could remember was that the night was awfully cold for someone to have a broken heart.

That night, despite no words being said, the comfort of your arms and the warmth of your skin helped him to sleep despite the storm that raged in his mind. 

It was understandable his mood. Normally he wouldn’t be so emotionally invested in a game, even if he had lost. During intermissions, he would either be chatting up a storm, blowing your ear off about all the plays he’s made and if you’ve finally fallen in love with him. Or, two, he’ll be listening to you nagging at him to not go throwing his opponents against the wall while wrestling for the puck.

Hockey was aggressive, but it was also an athlete’s duty to learn how to play smart and do their best to abstain from injuries that could potentially harm their career — especially, if the athlete in question is one preparing for his national debut to representing Japan in the Winter Olympics the following year.

Awkwardly, eyeing your expression, Haibara laughed while scratching the back of his head, cheerfully asking, “I would like a new one, mine’s a little damp.”

“Me too,” his blonded friend chimed in, his voice not as enthusiastic as Haibara’s.

Smiling in appreciation, you lent them a towel and extended the care to the other players as well.

“Why’d you give him the steal?” Sensei bluntly asked, looking at the rink while sternly watching Suguru make his way onto the field. His ex-disciple gave his old coach his respects with a little bow when he caught his gaze. 

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Satoru numbly stated, the clenching of his fists reflecting his true emotions.

“You know what to do,” Yaga-Sensei firmly stated, pushing his sunglasses up his thick nose, wasting no time before the buzzer rang again to redirect his player, “you know him better than anyone else, trust your instincts.”

Twelve minutes till game —

The crowd roars. Currently in the last period, with a couple more minutes on the clock to crown the final winner, both teams ferociously fought to control the game. 

The pluck clicks with each hit against the blade. Speedily sliding against the ice it was almost difficult to see it on the field. 

Currently, in possession, Nanami pushed forward, putting pressure on Kyoto’s defense as Haibara simultaneously rushed to the other side, leaving Satoru wide open for a pass. Nanami prepares to hit a pass over to his captain, hitching the puck in the air for a quicker velocity towards Satoru, who’s ready to receive —

The glass walls tremble on impact. Flinching at the loud noise, your eyes widen when you see it unfold in slow motion. Both bodies harshly collided against the wall with Satoru getting sandwiched between two forces. expelling out a groan as he slid down the wall, with puffs of white smoke spewing from his lips with each harsh huff of his chest. 

“Seems like a brawl has occurred between the two captains!” 

“And from the looks of it, Gojo Satoru is struggling to get back on his feet!”

“No,” you muttered under your breath, face paling and body going cold despite the adrenaline pumping through your blood, you pushed your way through the audience to get to where he was.

Your mind felt like a minefield. With bombs ticking, threatening to explode with each step you took. Nauseous from the anxiety, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe as if there was a ball stuck in your throat. And despite the efforts to try and stay calm, it was rather difficult when your thoughts replayed the countless other injuries Satoru sustained during your time as his manager.

“He’s going to have to take at least 8 to 10 weeks off for his fracture to heal.” The emergency physician stated, pointing at the small crack on his right clavicle.

“He probably won’t listen,” Sensei remarked, crossing his arms while letting out a deep sigh, “is there any way he can recover faster?” 

“It’s fine guys —” Satoru tried playing it off.

“Shut up,” you and Sensei simultaneously interjected, scolding him to be quiet as if he were a child.

Clearing his throat, “As I was saying, it must’ve been painful for him to have played in this state, I imagine this was an ongoing injury he’s sustained in the past,” the doctor murmured while further analyzing the film.

You immediately shot daggers at him, glaring when the doctor unintentionally outed Satoru’s injury he’s been keeping a secret. Flinching, Satoru slowly sank further into his bed, covering his face with his blanket. 

“Though, being diligent with his PT and fully resting his body for at least six weeks will be the fastest route for recovery.”

But, well… it doesn’t take more than five weeks for you to get a text from Suguru.

From: Suguru

Don’t get mad… 

To: Suguru

You saying this makes me already mad. What happened?

From: Suguru

Just bring some icepacks and some sweets and head over to Satoru’s place. 

To: Suguru

I swear to god if you guys play —

From: Suguru

... it's his fault.

And it doesn’t take you more than thirty minutes to be blowing up his doorbell, knocking on his door at exactly 12:34 A.M. with an ice cooler with icepacks and a bag full of his favorite candy. 

Thud! 

“Fuck… ow that hurt.” You heard a muffled voice through the door. 

“It’s me.” You curtly announced.

Quickly opening the door, his elbow leaning against the door with an insouciant tone to his voice, he cracked a boyish smile, “Ah, isn’t this my favorite person. What brings you here?” 

“I told you not to —” Rage bubbled up inside you as you glared at him. 

“Okay!” Nervously holding up his hands, doing his best to calm you down, “before you get mad —”

“I’m already mad, Satoru —”

“Okay! Fine! Before you get even madder,” taking the heavy loads off your shoulders, settling them onto the floor, his warm hands cup your face, “it’s really nothing big. Just feels a little strained that’s all,” he tried to reassure when he sees you about to object.

“Really, I’m fine,” his eyes urged you to trust him, “I just… missed being on the rink, that’s all.”

Your eyes soften when you see the little sulk on his lip, and notice how he’s lost a little weight in his cheeks. Quickly letting out a deep sigh through your nose, you mumbled out, “I’ll be the one to decide if you’re fine or not.”

---

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, firmly holding onto the hem of his white shirt while saddling on his thighs.

“Oh wow.” he placed his hands on his chest, acting innocent from your forwardness.

“Satoru, take your shirt off,” you grumbled, pulling at his shirt and rolling your eyes when it was easily removed, despite him acting naive, again his hands covered his bare chest — just managing to barely cover his sculpted pectorals.

“It’s really nothing,” he blushed, awkwardly looking off to the side with a guilty smile. 

“Satoru you just took off your sleeve,” you murmured, placing an ice pack on his collarbone, your voice filled with worry. 

“I’m really fine, baby,” he loosened up after seeing the cute pout on your lips, your brows faintly furrowed as your fingers ever so lightly iced his injury.

“I’m not your baby,” you stated with a glare, clearly not impressed with his defiance to go against his doctor’s orders, “I don’t date people that don’t listen to me,” you said without much thought while tending to his bruised clavicle.

“Oh —” his ears perked at hearing your words.

Fuck.

“Wait! What I meant was —”

It was evident that he was trying to contain his smile from the way he bit his lips. “You so wanna date me don’t you?” 

---

It’s not a surprise how you ended up in this position.

It started off with a light kiss, lips softly meshing with each other with light teasing of tongue — he swore, it’ll be just one kiss.

Soon enough hands start to idly move on their own accord, groping areas, and massaging places that wouldn’t particularly follow with just one kiss, leaving you both simultaneously panting and yearning for more. 

And then you’re grinding on his throbbing cock, spit slightly leaking from the edge of your mouths while tongues feverishly fought for dominance, naked with your pussy pulsing and dripping in need to swaddle and engulf him whole. 

Progressing forward, you’re slowly sinking onto his length, bottoming out with your ass seated on his thighs, foreheads linked while you both took a minute to adjust to one another. like an unspoken language, you both solemnly breathed, that even if the world crashed around you both, nothing would matter because the other was there.

He’ll cum.

It’s beautiful how he does it. And in moments like these, you can’t deny that the man who’s chasing after his high under you was the man you loved. 

With his mouth gaping open, his white brows furrow as he gasps for air while his large hands grip your bum, spreading out your cheeks for easier access through your hole. He desperately thrusts into you, unrhythmic and hips helpless from the warm seduction your plush walls have over him. His seeds shoot straight to your womb, filling you entirely with pulps of his cum leaking through your cunt. And it takes him a couple seconds to breathe as he rides out his high. 

And then you’ll be sandwiched in between the sofa and his heavy body, his cock rummaging inside, amplifying the sound of his member shoved through your dripping cunt. It’s loud and sloppy the way he fucks into you. Wanton and bashful in the way his muscles tighten in tandem with you clenching down when his head hits just the right spot. 

Your legs immediately wrap around his hips, securing him down to fuck you in that position. And he doesn’t retaliate from the limited position, instead, he welcomes it. With his face burrowed into the curve of your neck, his palms pushing your thighs to your chest—  biting, clawing, scratching, and licking — doing whatever it takes for you to rectify the burning ache in between your thighs, and for him to release his seeds into you again — again, and again, and again. 

“—toru! please,” you cried out and in your plea, he answered, “I’m right here,” Satoru groaned, “Keep up with me — fuck, I swear, jus’ a little more.”

Tightly wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzled closely to your ear. Despite him already being inches deep within you, his every grunt and pant, the desperate moans he releases while he states your name, mixed with delirious curses has you craving for more.

With his mind hypnotized from the pleasure of his cock rummaging your insides, swaddled in care despite his cock bullying past your folds, he becomes possessive and carnal.

“This is mine,” he harshly bites your shoulders, pleased when you yelp while simultaneously tightening your reign on his cock burrowed within your walls, “all mine. You’re fucking mine,” he proclaimed.

“ — ‘Toru please keep going fuck right there!” you sobbed, cheeks stained with euphoric tears.

“Just say you want it,” he growls muffled with his lips smashed with yours, “tell me you want me.”

“yes, I want it. I want it so, so bad — need you so bad ‘Toru!” you mewled, letting out a soft whimper, feeling the vibrations of his grunts, pulses of ecstasy pulsing through your veins and straight to your core as you succumbed all authority and control for him to do whatever he desired.

“Fuck fuck fuckkkkkk.” he curses when he hears your words. Like a broken record, it echoes in his brain, with every release of his cum, his breath hitching and body vibrating as he finally reached his climax.

The voice of you calling out his name so dearly repeats so melodically in his ears. 

Soon, the room once filled with the savage slapping of wet skin and immoral use of dirty curses of pleasure while you both partook in unholy matrimony was now filled with a thick smell of post-sex pheromones, coupled with softened breaths and sweet hums of foolish lovers. 

“Be careful,” you softly mumbled, under him, while your hands lightly weaved through his damp hair. you placed a soft kiss on his bruised collar, his pale skin accentuated the blue-green tint, making it look far worse than it was.

“aw, you worried for me? I’m so touched,” he faked a sob as he pulled you tighter into his arms, mumbling while he lavished in your warmth.

“I still didn’t forgive you,” you lightly pulled on his hair. his eyes were droopy and his body felt even more heavy over your limp one. 

“Yea?” he hummed closer to your lips, gently kissing you while slowly grinding his hips to your wet core, “thought your harder harder ‘Toru harder was you forgiving me,” he lightly chuckled in between kisses.

“You’re the worst,” grumbling as you tightened your arms around his neck, snuggling closer to his warm body.

“Wow, you love me? I’m so touched,” Satoru softly chuckled, gently stroking your heated cheeks as he held you in his arms, he too, soaking in the warmth and feeling the beatings of your heart. 

—

Your eyes focused on nothing but him despite the chaos around you — just a couple of steps from touching his slumped body,

A loud buzzer goes off, quieting your thoughts, the loud announcement ringing static in your ears. 

“ Sustaining the blow, Gojo Satoru gets back on his feet again! He proves once again on the court he is The Honored One!” 

Two minutes till game —

Head throbbing, and every inch of his body burning from the strain, Satoru vigilantly fought for control of the puck. Every second felt like an eternity, and every stride of his skates felt tortuous as if every fiber of his muscle were being torn apart.

Satoru quickly passes to Haibara, and fastidiously receives the puck again when he's open. Faking a move to juke out his opponent, Satoru was getting closer to Kyoto’s goal. 

It was evident that fatigue was overwhelming each player on the court. With their voices hoarse, and sweat starting to sting their eyes, while puffs of smoke perspired with each agonizing breath causing their lungs to burn in their chest, no one was willing to back down.

Watching from the side while nervously biting your cheeks, you observed the game as Satoru flew through the rink. From the calmness of his eyes, and confidence in his strides, to the quickness of his feet and the gentle care to his game, things started to make sense.

For the man that obnoxiously barged into your life, ruining your pair of white shoes, to managing a spot in your heart, he sure made you fall — hard.

On one random afternoon while you watched him soundly sleep in your arms, lightly drooling as he mumbled something incoherent about some zunda and cream at Sendai Station — loving him came easily.

Because even if you tried running away, your feet would always end up back to him. And you knew the fire that you'll hold for him was going to burn, but you couldn’t resist the flame that he lit in your heart.

“With seconds to the clock, with Gojo Satoru’s lead, the Trailblazers are fighting desperately to win this game!”

Gojo Satoru — with him, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. 

“The Spartans are putting up a ferocious fight, Geto Suguru tries to steal the puck but is unsuccessful! Ladies and Gentleman, Gojo Satoru goes for the goal —”

Satoru sped his way across, the white tint of his jersey barely recognizable with his speed. The crowd cheers, sirens blow off to the throne the victors of this year’s champions.  

And currently, tears freely flowed down your cheeks. And you let them despite the blur as you rushed onto the rink, the soles of your shoes about to slip on the scratched ice.

Because the saddest word in the world is almost, and he was worth more than being dwindled down to a regretful almost. 

And if you had to defy fate, and create your own ending, so be it. You’ll suffer the consequence of meddling with destiny, and amend for your sins, in the future, when you’re dead if that meant there was a guarantee to have him in the present. 

Because in the world of almost 8 billion people, somehow your worlds are intertwined. 

“Be careful!” He panicked, throwing off his helmet as he rapidly skated over to you, “You’re going to hurt yo—”

Grabbing holding of his jersey, you slammed your lips with his — with thousands in the audience, cameras obnoxiously flashing up the rink in all directions. 

You won’t hear the end of it from Yaga-Sensei, he’s certainly, most definitely mad. 

Your anonymity is fucked, and now everyone will know you as the ‘girl that kissed Gojo Satoru’ — probably will be trending on all socials for at least a week, and that's being generous. 

Maybe you were delusional or so high off adrenaline that you didn’t notice the mayhem surrounding you  — especially not Satoru’s shocked expression when you suddenly kissed him. 

But your ignorant bliss was soon interrupted when you slightly opened your eyes and were met with a thousand flashing lights that almost blinded your vision.

“— oh my god!” you squealed, immediately embarrassed at what you just did, only for Satoru to quickly hide you in his embrace, your face nuzzled into his chest. 

“Looks like I’m not the one that’ll get in trouble by Sensei time,” he teased with his cheek placed on top of your head.

“Get me out of here,” you whined, “I’m so embarrassed…”

“Nah” Satoru cheekily smiled, tightly embracing you, “not until you give me a date.”

“You didn’t make the last shot stupid, Nanami did.”

“False, I assisted,” he stated after briefly calling out for one of his teammates, “If you weren’t so lovestruck by my handsome face, and actually saw my brilliant performance, then you would’ve seen the phenomenal play I had with Nanami.”

“Satoruuuu,” you whined, lightly stomping on your feet, getting increasingly squirmish from all the mess you’ve created.

“Told you,” whispering into your ear, “I’ll always win,” he stated before pushing his helmet over your head, reaching down to hold your hand as he led you out of the rink. The confidence in his walk looked almost arrogant, with you helplessly following, as he made his way to the lockers — a routined celebration after a game now as your boyfriend —

“Because you're my lucky charm, babe.”

author's note: if you made it to the end, thank you. i didn't expect a silly thought to lead to my distress about creating another au for him. But nonetheless, I hope you've all enjoyed ◡̈

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #darkmode.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).

word count. 2.6k

note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)

tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.

sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .

. . after your innocence.

it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.

you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.

sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.

it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.

why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.

sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.

it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.

he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.

sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.

he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.

sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .

it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.

it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.

unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.

“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.

sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”

it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.

“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.

sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.

“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”

you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.

sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.

“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.

he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.

“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.

sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.

“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”

two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.

you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.

“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.

it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.

“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.

it’s all just for show.

“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.

he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”

you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.

the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.

“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”

sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.

you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.

“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.

it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.

it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.

“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”

he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.

it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.

before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.

you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.

“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”

the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.

“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.

it’s probably both.

“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.

a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.

“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.

what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.

or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.

anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #female reader

[atrwriting]

future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

#corio smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #corio snow smut #corio fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus fic #coriolanus imagine #corio imagine #the hunger games #lucy gray #sejanus plinth #young coriolanus snow

[maggotwithanf]

IDW shitcanning everyone's book

#i'm on one book that survived the Oni-pocalypse Round 2 #and like 2 months ago they shitcanned the smithsonian line and left a bunch of my friends gigless >:( #mad cave has a new EiC that's supposedly the reason why everything's all futzy there now #the S&S shit #i adore [redacted] at abrams theyre my fuckin bestie but ABRAMS PLEASE;;; #the only tradpub place that isn't NERO STYLE FALLING OF ROME right now is like. er. idk?? chronicle??? the P side of PRH?!? #harper had all those “voluntary layoffs” #the nib is dead #i mean holy shit comics is dire rn