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orangebl0ssoms · 3 days

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𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬: non-idol!skz x oc

wordcount: 11k

chapter warning(s): violence, cursing, movie reference(s), mentions of injuries, etc.

synopsis: Ha-na and Mo-mi unintentionally break into an abandoned wearhouse where they get caught by a group of 8 rebellions, a man-made organization called, Stray Kids.

a/n: just a quick note, i got the inspo for the boys and the house off some pinterest fanart a while back, the creators insta is, koyasumi, so cudos to them, the boys designs are not made up by me. FULL CREDIT TO THEM YALL PLS.

“That’s poison ivy, and that’s poison ivy-” Ha-na timidly itched her arms glaring down at the tall grass, Mo-mi who struggled to carry her own backpack; filled with food and essentials from the store, rolled her eyes. “Not every fucking plant is poison ivy, Ha-na.” She grunted out.

The two walked through an open field, overlooking a lake. Sunlight beamed over their silhouettes, while birds chirped in the distance, a rare look for the setting in the homeless area. “Are we gonna be there soon?” Mo-mi whined, “You’ve been asking that for the past 10 minutes, nothing has changed.” Ha-na grumbled, in which the other girl sighed. “Maybe if I wasn’t carrying the heaviest bags of the bunch.”

Hana stared down at the map in one hand, ignoring her friend’s complaints. Her eyes lit up, “Ooh! We’re getting closer I think.”

Mo-mi glanced over briefly, “Don’t play with me.” She raised a brow. Hana shook her off with a small wave of her palm, “It’s fine, we’ll be there at dawn, probably?”

Mo-mi immediately dropped the bag, laying on the grass, “What do you mean, ‘probably’? That’s still too long.” She puffed her lips up. Hana stared down at the girl in amusement. She takes a seat next to her, “Do you need a break?” Mo-mi nodded, “Just a bit.” Throwing an arm over her eye to block out the golden rays shining in her eyes.

Hana looked down at her watch, “Well, we’re gonna go soon. So hurry-” The minute those words left her mouth, Mo-mi was fast asleep.

So the day went on.

—

Mo-mi’s eyes twitched open to the sound of crunching, as if someone was eating chips. Low and behold when she rubbed her eyes and glanced to the side, Hana had her mouth stuffed with chips as she doodled on a little notepad she found inside of her duffel. Hana swiftly turned around upon hearing the chuckle that came from behind her. “Don’t scare me like that!” She placed a hand on her chest, letting out a small huff. Mo-mi scoffed, “You’re the one who woke me up with your loud chewing.” Hana slowly gulped her food down with red cheeks, before glancing down at her watch. “We need to go.” She huffed, placing her chips down.

“Jesus. How long did I sleep?” Mo-mi yawned, standing up, glancing up at the sky with squint, the atmosphere darker than before she had slept. “A couple hours. I didn’t want to go through the pain of waking you up, so I let you sleep.”

Mo-mi grinned softly tilting her head to the side, “Aw-”

“Yeah, whatever. Carry your bags.” Hana shoved the the heavy bag and her belongings into her arms. Mo-mi rolled her eyes as they both got their gear on, “I take it back.”

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

—

Hana and Mo-mi made their way down a hill, the moonlight sparkling over the dark blue water, the sprinkles of water since it was about to rain, nothing but small crickets in the distance and silence, or what should’ve been silence for the two considering the small argument Mo-mi may have started. In the girl’s defense, all she asked was a simple question. ‘Are cat’s better than dogs?’

“Dogs have many beneficial qualities that help humans, alright?” Mo-mi rolled her eyes at Hana’s assumption, “Oh alright Bill Nye, where did you get your information from, google? Cause clearly…” Mo-mi glanced around, “There’s no cell tower around here.”

“So what?”

“So your information is wrong and I'm right.” Hana glanced over appalled, “Actually, no, that’s not how that works. i’m not bull-shitting, alright? I’ve had a dog before-”

“Yes. Five years ago.” Mo-mi deadpanned. “Doesn’t mean anything has changed.” Hana snapped as the other girl placed her hands up in defense, “My reason is valid.”

“No it’s-”

Mo-mi stopped, huffing out a small ‘shut up’ staring ahead. “Look.” They both stared at what looked like a big house, or what looked to be a home. A bunch of bushes and trees, sticks and wire, covered the opening, it looked as if someone moved them there to keep people out. Hana nodded her head towards them, both immediately pushing past the tree branches and barbed wire with ease. The two looked up, welcomed with a huge dark, looking wearhouse. As big as a building almost. “Oh my god…” Mo-mi gasped. Hana nodded, staring up with the same amount of amazement in her eyes as Mo.

“Alright, no offense but when the hell did the homeless start building cool things?” Mo-mi turned to Hana who ran a hand down her face. “I don’t know, but someone is definitely living here.” She nodded assuredly. Mo-mi furrowed her brows, “You don’t know that?” Hana went to protest until Mo-mi cut her off, “We can just check, alright? If there are, we can leave. Simple.” Hana rolled her eyes, “Fine, but if we get caught, I swear-”

“We won’t. Chill.”

—

Unfortunately, their small heist didn’t go on for too long. As the two moved around the perimeter of the warehouse, Ha-na made the move of knocking on the door, only for it to slowly creak open. “That’s creepy...” Mo-mi muttered from under her scarf, Ha-na nodded in agreement before placing a palm on Mo-mi’s shoulder, “You check the outside, i’ll get the inside.” Mo-mi nodded as they both parted ways. The shorter girl’s steps were light against the cold floor on the inside, the girl was met with a homey space, well homey to a man. The scene looked as if it were to be on a set of a movie, very put together as if someone had been living there.

Skateboards were lined up on the wall, paint splatters used as decoration, a leftover pizza box on the put together coffee table, soda cans, etc.

It was oddly clean, ‘A boy definitely lives here…or a couple at least?’ Hana thought. As she looked through the house, Mo-mi snuck around the backyard, finding a garage. She raised a brow, staring down at the half assed toy buttons to open the door, one red one green. Once pressing her finger down on the green button, the door lifted only to reveal a shiny looking car, spray painted with tons of colors and various different words with orange road cones lined along the roof. One recurring word that stood out to Mo-mi was the ‘SKZ’ was spray painted on the front doors. She hummed with a small frown, walking off.

Hana walked all around the house to see what she’d find. What had her on edge was that every door was open, no equipment nor shoes lying around, just empty. She was greeted with a small door at the end of the stairs she walked down. She looked down at the rusted lock hanging with a chain wrapped around the handle, it had been a small door down that led to what she would assume was a basement. Making an attempt to pry it open or unlock the small lock hanging on the handle wasn’t enough, it was as if it got budged or blocked. Hana swiftly smacked down the lock on the door with the handle of her scythe, successfully opening the door. She carried on down the wooden steps, coming face to face with a large white room with a bunch of motorcycles lined up. Huge bikes, all spray painted on. Ha-na’s jaw dropped, she couldn’t even count the amount if she wanted to. ‘This person must love bikes’ She thought.

“Jesus.” Hana muttered, only to hear the resounding noise of a gun clock.

Before Ha-na could take stance, a bullet flew past her shoulder. She let out a small yelp, her hand gripping where the bullet grazed. turning around to see a flash of white hair and smoke move behind a small wall. The lights turned off just when Ha-na went to grab her scythe. “Whoever the hell is here, stop fucking around!” The girl yelped, her breathing fastening, her body tense but ready to pounce as she looked around. Once hearing the small snort of laughter that came from behind her, definitely too deep to be Mo-mi’s, she took cover just before an array of bullets flew her way.

On the other side of the door, Mo-mi’s head shot up from her knees upon hearing the gunshots. She stood up from the floor and called out, “Ha-na? Ha-na!” Her eyes darting around her surroundings. She tried to yank open the door that was previously open before, now locked. “What the fu-” just as her fists made contact to bang on the door, an arrow flew past her head, multiple actually. Mo-mi ducked and whipped around to see where the arrows were shot from. Through the bushes near the woods, Mo-mi couldn’t fully identify who it was due to the darkness. The person finally stood up, making the glare from the porch light cascade over over the mask they had on. To Mo-mi it looked to be a girl at first due of the brown bun they rocked, but it had to have been a man due to his height and the muscle he was packing, the only thing that wasn’t revealed was his face, covered by a cat mask.

Mo-mi moved to walk up to him, “Who the hell are-” only to be cut off by someone kicking her in the back, almost sending her forward off her feet. She groaned and glanced up from the ground to be met with another guy, this one had been shorter, bright blond hair and bangs with red streaks. A red jacket and a white ripped crop top, showing his abdomen. This ones mask was yellow, resembling a chick. Not a cat, but a yellow chick. “What is this? some kind of cult?’ Mo-mi genuinely thought. The girl went to look for her bow, glancing down at the ground where her backpack was supposed to be, but had been in the hands of the taller man.

He tossed it into the bushes, as the smaller guy ressasured him. “I’ve got this one, go help the others.” He spoke in Korean, as if giving him a signal to leave. The low register of his voice shocked the girl, as she watched his friend nod and unlock the door with the end of her bow with ease, walking in. The masked man’s head slowly turned back, almost as if a switch went off in his head, but Mo-mi knew how to play nasty too.

She watched as he took one of his swords off his back, this didn’t faze Mo-mi. In fact, once he swung his sword down to hit her she swiftly moved back, initially dodging the blade of the weapon. Their speed matched up to one anothers. Mo-mi was a pretty skilled fighter, but her tactics barely stood against his own. Knowing this, the same moves she made wasn’t going to hold him off forever. So she ran off, leading him back behind the house, where she wanted him.

Meanwhile, Ha-na winced, covering her ears at the loud sound of gunshots hitting her ears, bullets flying past her, not only from one person but two, one had a fox mask while the other had a bunny one. She was hidden behind a small pillar, which wouldn’t act as a barrier for long considering how much they shot at it.

Until it stopped, followed by silence. The air was sharp, warm, as if someone was about to make a move. Just as Do Ha-na moved to grab her weapon, she felt a harsh tug on the back of her hood, pulling her up over the counter. Ha-na yelped loudly making eye contact with bunny mask. Acting quickly, she kicked him in the stomach making him stumbling back.

Bunny clearly wasn’t affected, nor did he even budge. The other male in the back, fox mask, laid back against the wall lighting another cigarette. His gun fell to the floor, Hana could practically feel the smirks sprawled across their faces. “This’ll be fun.” White hair chuckled, bunny mask rolled his white sleeves up nodding his head. “Make a move.”

Hana scoffed, cracking her neck, knowing the two were only trying to rile her up more. She replicated the head nod back, the man sighed in response. Cracking his knuckles, he made the first move by lunging at her, throwing fists, in which she swiftly blocked. The man ended up being able to get Hana to a disadvantage after she went to throw a punch, grabbing her arm and using it to flip her onto her back. The move almost knocked the air from out her lungs.

She spun in a circle, rounding her feet over his arm, replicating the same move he used on her. Only this time he was able to throw her off him, using his strength…and he was very strong. Ha-na was punched.

Mo-mi was kicked. In the nose. She stumbled back while wiping her leaking nose; glaring at the blonde male stalking towards her. She swerved and slid across the concrete with such ease just to get away from his blatant attacks. Leaping away from him, she used his shoulder as a leverage once he swiped at her with the sword. The two both fall back from the force, Mo-mi rolling into the garage of the wearhouse.

Before Mo-mi could get up, he was fast on his feet, sprinting at her with the sword ready to attack her with. Upon swinging his blade at her she ducked and rolled, the blade hitting the side of the house, initially breaking the sword in half with a resounding ‘clink’. Mo-mi chuckled, watching as the man shook his head and dropped the rest of the sword onto the cement. “You think this is funny?” The man spoke in english. His voice was not only deep but held a thick australian accent. The moment was amusing to the girl. Not much for him.

Hana was pushed down into a chokehold onto the floor, she gasped for air as the man spoke into her ear. “Who are you?” He hissed, tightening his grip when she didn’t answer. “Not gonna answer me?” He huffed. Hana seethed, immediately gripping onto his forearms, letting her powers burn his arm with a bright light coursing through them. He yelped loudly, yanking his arms back, falling back onto the floor. “The fuck was that?!” The platinum exclaimed, grabbing his gun just as bunny stood up, the two left utter silence.

“Listen to me, or else I won’t hesitate to kill the both of you.” Hana pointed her scythe that radiated a gold glow, she panted seeing as the two didn’t make any moves to stop her. “You’re-”

“I-” She stuttered, just realizing what she had done by outing not only herself, but Mo-mi as well. All of a sudden she felt hot sparks of electricity crack up her sides before she fell to the ground, instantly passing out. The man who tased her, had stood behind her figure with a wolf mask. “You two go find the other, I’ll take this one.” He spoke, grabbing the girl by her sides, tossing her body over his shoulder with ease.

—

Mo-mi was about to get ganged up on by the rest of the men that surrounded her, and time was running out. They stared down at her with impulsive eyes. It was as if she were prey and they were the wolves. That was till the smoky black mist that manifested from her palms, exerted out towards the 7 men. The shock wave sent them back onto the ground, the force practically knocking the wind from half their lungs. They were all left groaning as Mo-mi laid unconscious.

That’s when Wolf mask entered the room, his buff arms folded, he was amused.

“Let’s clear out.”

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assistant-of-drama · 2 days

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Assistant Noah's World Tour!

After Jamaca...

Noah screamed into his hands as he sat in the confessional, blushing like crazy.

He felt hot. Both in anger and in lust. Anger that Alejandro's latest scheme to eliminate the final member of Team Victory almost got DJ sent to a hospital. And lust that Alejandro's evil brain was so brilliant. It didn't help that the manipulate charmer somehow looks even handsomer, while he was being so deliciously devious.

Oh god, does Noah seriously have a thing for bad boys?!

And did Alejandro seriously have to wear a speedo of all things?!?

The dude might as well be in his underwear!

No sane person would wear that type of swimwear!

Noah shakes his head and splashes cold water from the sink on his face.

Noah was tempted to buy Alejandro a pair of regular swim trunks… but then the Spainard might see it as his handsome body finally getting to the Cynic… and flustered Noah refuses to give in.

Noah looks in the mirror, ignoring the confessional camera and begins to take deep, calming breathes.

Noah quickly bangs his head against the bathroom's mirror to get rid of those thoughts of that stupid, evil man.

With a sigh, Noah leaves the confessional after finishing what he had to say and cleaning his face, then putting his sunglasses on. When Noah returns to the beach, he decides to enjoy while he still can.

Noah wants to stay as far away from stupid sexy Alejandro as possible, taking a spot at the other end of the beach. He'd rather focus on the beautiful view and the warm sun on his skin than on the Spaniard's charm. It didn't take long for Noah to sink into the soft sand, watch the sea and letting the sounds of it wash over him.

Alejandro however had different plans. His gaze locked on the dark-haired man on the beach. He smiled to himself, feeling a thrill run through him at the thought of teasing Noah again.

As the flirty man approached, he gives a playful smirk. "Hola, Noah. You seem to be enjoying the beach." He says, leaning down to place his towel down beside the other man's. "Or are you just avoiding me?"

Noah glances over at him, keeping his eyes away from the speedo. "Is it that hard to believe that I want some alone time?"

Alejandro begins to casually stretch his muscles in front of Noah. The cynical assistant is able to keep his face stoic and blush-free. But not even he could stop the passionate, burning, fire-like feeling inside his heart and body.

"I don't know…you seem to be avoiding me a bit too much. Don't you like me anymore?" The charmer asks with a playful pout, running a hand through his wet hair.

Noah chuckles sarcastically, rolling his eyes with a small smirk. "Oh please. I never liked an eel like you."

They both know that was a lie.

Alejandro smiles at Noah's retort, enjoying the way the other man's cheeks flush under his tan.

"Oh, I see. So you don't like me because I'm an eel, huh?" He asks, his voice dripping with fake hurt. "Well, that's too bad. I was hoping you could help me out with something."

Noah glances over at Alejandro, arching an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

Alejandro grins manically, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Well, you see, I've been in the water for quite some time now, and I think I've gotten a little…overdone. And I was hoping you could help me out, rub some sunscreen on my back. Maybe give me a nice massage while you're at it."

The taller man lays on Noah's towel, revealing the toned expanse of his back. Noah feels his heart skip a beat as he takes in the sight of the Spaniard's broad shoulders tapering down to his perfectly sculpted waist. Even his back is attractive. Alejandro smirks at Noah's obvious hesitation, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Will you help me, Noah? I'll put sunscreen on your back, if you do mine first."

Sighing, Noah drops to his knees beside Alejandro. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart as he reaches for the tube of sunscreen. His fingers brush against Alejandro's skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel the heat emanating from the Spaniard's body as he slowly rubs the cool gel onto his back.

Alejandro moans softly in satisfaction, arching his back and pressing closer to Noah's touch. The feel of the charmer's smooth, warm skin beneath the cynic's fingers is almost unbearable. Noah's heart pounds in his chest, his blood flowing hotter and faster as he continues to massage Alejandro's back.

Noah can't help but wonder what it would be like to feel those strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

When Noah was finished with Alejandro's back, Alejandro told Noah to lay down, so Alejandro could return the favor.

As Noah lay on the towel, he felt Alejandro's strong, warm hands begin to knead his shoulders with sunscreen. It was such an intimate, sensual feeling that Noah could barely contain himself. He let out a soft moan, arching his back slightly into the touch.

Those strong, warm hands moved everywhere, massaging Noah's upper back and then down to his lower back. The cynic felt a shiver run down his spine as Alejandro's fingers dug into his flesh, eliciting a deep, satisfying relief. It was as if the Spaniard was trying to wring every tense cell in the muscles loose.

Then when Alejandro was done, he flipped Noah over on his back and began playing with the smaller man's soft chocolate hair. Noah felt too relaxed to stop him. Noah and Alejandro gazed at each other, with peaceful smiles. One laying down, while the other was sitting. Their faces were quite calm, their bodies were more relaxed, but their hearts were pounding.

Alejandro slowly lowered his head, his eyes locked on Noah's lips. The taller man leaned in, his breath warm against the smaller man's skin, as he prepared to close the distance between them. Noah felt his heart race, his body tense with anticipation. He could feel the heat emanating from Alejandro, could practically taste the Spaniard's mouth on his.

But then Noah turned his head last minute, so Alejandro would only kiss his cheek.

"Nice try." the relaxed Noah whispers, pleased with himself. "I don't kiss people that injure animal lovers."

Alejandro simply smiles back, and they continue to peacefully gaze at each other. "But you're willing to let them massage your back?"

"I'm not a perfect person." Noah says softly, with a small shrug.

But Noah actually was perfect. At least to Alejandro he was. The Spaniard couldn't help but feel drawn to him, admiring the way he handled himself, his intelligence, his boldness, and of course, his sass. It was refreshing, a much-needed breath of fresh air in a world full of people who only have a few braincells.

So, when Alejandro felt that Noah was turning his head to avoid the kiss, he felt a little disappointed, a little rejected even. But he wasn't going to let that show. He understands why Noah keeps rejecting him.

Noah doesn't want to be used. Which is fair, cause Alejandro did want to use him at first. But now, the thought of using Noah makes Alejandro feel sick and he doesn't know why. He doesn't feel shame when using others. Why is it different with Noah now?...

...And why does Alejandro want to kiss him, without getting anything in return?...

...Anyway, the charmer glad that the assistant is willing to be friends, or at least friend-like acquaintances.

Noah's friendship should be enough for Alejandro… right?

#assistant noah's world tour #assistant noah #total drama #total drama world tour #td noah #alejandro burromuerto #alenoah

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save-a-forest-ride-a-bear · 12 hours

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🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ Masochism Tango ❛ ✧

Featuring: Gortash x Durge! Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: cw for descriptions of violence and gortash being a freak. also as usual with my drabbles, no use of "y/n" and I try to describe the reader's dialogue and actions as little as possible

He'd be lying if he said he didn't decide to throw a ball only for the slim possibility of them showing up.

They hated him. That much was obvious. He could see it in their eyes during the coronation — that burning wrath and bloodlust that always made him weak in the knees. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of. Maybe slashing his throat open, only to lap up the blood with their tongue. He hoped so. He revels in their aggression, even when it's directed towards him. Especially when it is.

The first hour of the ball was excruciating — having to pretend he cared about whatever the rest of Baldur's Gate's bourgeoisie were yapping about while apprehensively looking around, searching for the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.

Just when he was starting to lose hope, he spotted them in a corner. The sight alone almost made him groan. Gods, how could they look even more beautiful, all dolled up just to see him. Or so he hoped, at least. He had to fight back the urge to just shove everyone out of his way, to go over to them and...

The band began to play before he could finish his thoughts, and he took that as the perfect opportunity. He sauntered over with confidence and elegance, ignoring the other guests with his eyes focused solely on them. Their little friends were nowhere to be seen, either. Even better.

They seemed uncomfortable, restless even, their fingers twitching slightly. Probably aching for their blade, he thought, and a grin formed on his lips. It's been so long, but they haven't changed a bit. He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around their wrist and pulling them towards him before they even noticed his presence to slim the chances of being rejected.

"Good evening, my dear. I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Care for a dance?" It was supposed to be a question, but he didn't make it sound like one. He knew they'd say no, so he had to make it clear they didn't have a choice — just the way they were looking at him right now made it clear they were currently fantasizing about bashing his head into his neck. He smirked at that, dragging them firmly but not forcefully with him towards the dance floor. He wanted them angry — wanted them to want to hurt him.

He placed a hand on their waist, the other intertwined with theirs as he waltzed with them to the soft ballad playing in the background. "I rather missed this, you know. You used to be a most splendid dance partner, my treasure." He whispered, gazing deeply into those beautiful, livid eyes of theirs that seemed to bewitch him all the same as they did in the past. He didn't tell them the exact nature of their old relationship, but it was very much implied. He knew they could put two and two together.

Losing them hadn't been as easy as he desperately tried to pretend it was. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, that it was just business as usual, that his heart didn't ache at the thought of never seeing them again — but whatever happened between the two flourished into something much deeper than he'd care to admit. And then, just when things were going well, they vanished. Just like that. They vanished and left him behind, alone, with Orin of all bloody people supposed to replace them. As if she could even hold a candle to them.

He tried his best to lie to himself — it was a good thing they were gone. They were making him soft, weak. He couldn't afford any distractions. And he actually believed those lies for a while. You can convince your mind of almost anything if you repeat it enough times.

But no amount of self-inflicted dishonesty could help ignore the flutter in his chest when they walked into the coronation room. He was almost giddy — even while trying his best to act professional, anyone could see that if he had a tail, it would be wagging at that moment. But after confirming they had lost their memories, a rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. On one hand, they didn't remember him. Didn't remember what they shared together, didn't remember his touch. On the other, this was his chance to finally try again — to make things right. World domination be dammed, it's not worth ruling over without them to share the throne with him, and it took losing them to realize that. They left the coronation without giving him a clear answer to his proposition to kill Orin, and that was that.

But now they were here — in his arms once again. Well, technically not yet, not entirely at least, but it was just the beginning. And he wouldn't stop until they were his again, body, mind and soul.

A small cackle escaped him as they purposefully stepped harshly on his foot, clearly trying to confront him without causing a scene. "You look awfully tense, my dearest. Almost as if you want to dismember me. You'd rather like that, I wager." He mused, spinning them to the rhythm of the song before pulling them back against him. "If you managed to, I imagine it would be quite the spectacle. A thrill, really. But you can't live without your tyrant, can you?" He taunted, the smirk on his face never fading.

"You still have that fire in you. I missed it." He admitted, leaning in to whisper so that his words were for their ears alone. "But we both know I'm not afraid of you, dearest. If anything, you're the one that should be concerned." He motioned around vaguely, eyes never leaving theirs. "I control this city. One wrong move, and I'll have my Steel Watch take care of you. That would truly be a shame, would it not?"

The threat was empty, of course. He had no plans of harming them, no matter what they said or did, but he always quite enjoyed pushing their buttons, seeing what makes them tick, how much it takes for them to break.

He pulled them closer, pressing them flush against his chest, lips grazing their ear. "So why don't you try that again? Threaten me. Hurt me. Say you'll kill me if I don't do as you say. I promise I won't run away." He breathed out, his hand reaching up to caress their cheek gently, pulling their face towards his. "I'll beg for it. Crave it. Just as I always did. Show me how much you hate me, my treasure. Remind me of our history."

There was an unmistakable twinge of desperation in his voice. He needed this in ways he never needed anything else in his life — needed them to crave him, to hurt him all over again, to make him bleed. It was a yearning so strong he was sure it would swallow him whole. Which is why he pressed his lips against theirs despite his better judgement to keep teasing, keep pushing. He couldn't wait any longer.

What he wasn't expecting was the reciprocation and much less the harsh bite on his lower lip, strong enough he could taste his blood on their tongue. He moaned into their mouth, hands settling on their hips to pull them even closer. He did miss this.

It was hungry, sloppy, open-mouthed, but he still found it perfect. One hand rose to cup their cheek, and when they finally parted, gasping softly for air, he brushed it against their lower lip, smearing the remains of blood before slipping it inside their mouth. "That's better." He whispered, his voice husky. He felt their tongue against his digit before their teeth once again sank down on his flesh, and he groaned with a grin.

"Let's find somewhere more private, my pet. I believe we have some catching up to do."

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #enver gortash #gortash x reader #lord enver gortash #gortash x durge #durgetash

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the-tech-turn · 14 hours

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Artistic Intrest

Tech x reader

Word count: 807 words

Summary: While on a supply run, Tech discovers your interest in art.

Warnings: None just fluff (let me know if there's anything I missed)

A/n: This is my first fanfic, so it may be a bit cringey, and the dialogue may seem off. I do accept constructive criticism because I want to improve, but I don't accept disrespect. This is also my first time writing Tech, so he may seem a bit off.

It was a chaotic week. The job Cid gave us was difficult, and we all needed some rest. Unfortunately, rations were low, so a supply run was necessary. Hunter said that two people should go since there wasn't much to pick up, so there was no need for everyone to go. You volunteered, and luckily for you, Tech chose to accompany you. Tech the man you've slowly grown to love in a different way than how you loved the others. You begrudgingly accepted your feelings after realizing they weren't planning to leave anytime soon.

You and Tech dress in civi clothes and walk towards the nearby town. Tech decides to fill the empty space with his curious thoughts as you walk. You were so invested in his words that you barely realized you two were in town.

You looked around in wonder. It's been so long since you've seen a place as calm as this. Little did you know Tech was also in awe of the environment, particularly how the lights enhance your charm.

You two wandered the market looking for food stands. Maybe you could find some ingredients to make homemade food instead of flavorless rations. But before you could ponder that thought you caught a glimpse of paintings hung on a stand. You stopped to try to get a better view of the illustrations.

Tech stopped confused by your sudden action. He noticed you were looking at something. He turns expecting to see some sort of potential threat but calms to find nothing dangerous. Instead, finding art hung on a stand. He sees your desire to get a better view, so he asks if you'd like to go closer.

Excited, you squeal a yes before grabbing his hand and heading over.

Wait, grabbing his hand? Tech pondered. You must've been very excited.

You, with Tech in hand, over to the stand. The painting that catches your eye is one of a bright sky gradient with a lake and a cabin. The detail was incredible, and the artwork appeared to be made of oil paint.

As you examined the work, Tech couldn't help but see the admiration sparkling in your eyes.

The owner of the stand then walked up to you and struck up a conversation.

"You like the painting?"

"Yes, I do. It is wonderful!" you reply.

"Why, thank you! I painted it myself."

"Really! It's beautiful. You captured the tranquility of the forest perfectly!"

"Well, are ya gonna buy it?"

You quickly deny saying that you were only looking since it must've been out of your

budget. The clerk hums in understanding them

walks off to speak to other customers. You continued to look at the other canvases.

There were many portraits and landscape paintings. They were each painted using a different medium. Each is skillfully created.

Each with their own story of how and why they were made. Each symbolizing something important to the artist. As Tech observed you, he found your

appreciation for art endearing. Although, he does not recall a time when you had expressed much interest in such works. Sure, you'd bring it up here and there, but never had you shown how thrilling you found it. He

couldn't help but wonder why.

You finally snapped out of the trance and realized just how exhausted you were.

"Let's finish the supply run. Why don't we." You suggest.

Tech agrees, and you two begin to walk when you realize that your fingers are still

interlocked with Tech's. "Oops, sorry Tech I… I forgot I grabbed your hand." You laugh off.

"It is alright."

You two continue to walk, picking up everything on the list.

You both begin your walk home when Tech

begins a conversation. "The paintings seemed to catch your eye," he begun, "I do wonder why you hadn't brought up this interest before?"

"Well, you took a second to think," I guess I never really had to bring it up.. you know."

"Is it something you do not enjoy speaking of?"

No! I like to talk about this stuff! I just..." He looks at you expectantly. "Don't really know people who wanna talk about this stuff," you mumble.

A silence falls over you two.

"Then I have not done a good job in showing my interest."

"What?"

"I would like to hear what you have to say."

" Really!”

"Yes, I would."

You finally had an opportunity to share your knowledge with a willing listener, and we're not going to waste it.

You began talking about different techniques and mediums, which ones you favor, and answered any questions he had. Time flew by fast for both of you, and you were nearing the Marauder.

Tech was fascinated with your enthusiasm on this topic. He knew then and there that he wanted to listen to you more and more after this.

A/n: Thanks for reading! I hope you guys are willing to check out my future works.

#tbb #the bad batch #star wars #tbb tech #tech x reader #x reader

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one-piece-one-shots · 1 day

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Roronoa Zoro X CisFem Reader NSFW

"Another." The greenette called turning his empty shot glass over adding to the small collection he'd started.

Drinking like this never worked. It was proven, no matter how many times he tested this theory it always ended the same. But it passed the time and helped numb the guilt.

Another night on the road chasing an assignment, a target that was especially elusive. This town was just a short stop on his way to that bounty. It was a long lonely trip, but the payoff would have him set for a few months adding to the savings he had built up for something special.

The bartender placed a full shot in front of him and asked if he needed anything else.

Maybe he should call it a night. There wasn't much else to do, and tomorrow was planned out. He'd head out of the inn early to the next city where he'd intercept his mark, cash in and head home.

Once retiring to the small hotel room, he flopped onto the stiff foreign mattress brandishing his phone and pressing it to his left ear.

"You have one saved voice message." the automated voice chimed, "To listen to your messages press one."

After choosing the desired option he sighed returning the phone to his ear.

"Roronoa," your voice, albeit tense and a little angry sent a flash of goosebumps across his tanned flesh, "I'm still pissed. And don't think I'll just cave and forgive you like last time." there was a long pause followed by a soft sigh as your demeanor shifted, "Be sure to come home in one piece so I can kick your ass." another pause while you chuckled, "I love you."

With that, the call ended. You never said goodbye while he was on the road and no matter how angry you were, every message ended with, ' I love you'.

Zoro groaned rolling over to stare at the ceiling.

It had been almost four months since you'd left that message knowing once a mission started he couldn't contact you and you felt guilty for quarreling over his choice to accept such a dangerous mark. The last things you said to him were bitter and hurtful. But for Zoro that voicemail erased it all. He didn't care if you were mad, you didn't know the motivation behind it. He understood your frustration but was sure to be forgiven once you saw what he had planned.

Bringing his phone back into view he scrolled through pictures stopping on one you weren't aware had been taken.

Sheet pulled taut between your exposed thighs just covering your torso under your crossed arms. The soft light of that afternoon filtered through the blinds giving your dewy skin a warm glow. Your hair slightly tussled from the passionate session that had recently taken place. He wasn't a sentimental man, nor was he a romantic by any means but you did something to him. He had remained still watching you nap in your afterglow and couldn't help but capture the moment. His index finger traced the curve of your hip in the photo craving the real thing. Soon he was panting your name into the darkness before finally drifting off to sleep.

Only a few hours later he awoke in the still dark room headache splitting his brain. Fumbling around he dumped a few advil into his palm and found an unfinished bottle of sake to wash them down. It was almost time to move so, quickly he packed his bag loaded his weapons into the rusty old pickup and checked out of the inn.

Following the GPS on his phone closely he made the two-hour drive to Way City. The target, a once notorious gang leader and current fugitive, Crocodile, would be arriving to reunite with The Company's double agent Robin. It was an arduous mission that required loads of planning and coordination. Zoro was just glad it would be coming to a close soon.

Parking on the top level of the empty garage adjacent to the rendezvous point, Zoro began unpacking his equipment. He checked his phone feeling a bit uneasy. Something seemed off. Peering through the scope on his rifle he watched the warehouse door slam open as Crocodile passed through dragging Robin by her waist, pistol pressed firmly to her temple.

"Shit." Zoro muttered adjusting the gun with his mark's quick movements.

"Shoot me and see what happens to your friend. I can't guarantee I won't squeeze the trigger." His smooth deep voice resonated through the alley as he glared up at the bounty hunter.

While Crocodile was distracted by Zoro's presence Robin calmly but swiftly raised her arm elbowing the gun from his hand. Her attempt to escape his grasp, however, failed turning into a scuffle as she ducked blows from his prosthetic hook.

"Fuck." Zoro breathed.

They were moving too quickly for a clean shot. There was no way he would risk taking out a colleague so, he scrambled into the pickup and drove down to the bottom floor. Abandoning the vehicle, he snatched up his weapon of choice and ran toward the warehouse.

"What trash fights an unarmed woman?" the greenette huffed unsheathing his katana.

Crocodile turned from Robin's slumped form, a smug grin bending his lips, "A sword? How old-fashioned."

In mere seconds metal clashed with metal as Zoro's sword swiped the crime boss' hook. It was newly acquired and recently sharpened. Zoro noted from the dossier to avoid gashes from the appendage as it was often filled with some sort of poison; though this one didn't appear to be hollow.

The men continued their dance landing a few blows here and there. In a miscalculated move Zoro had allowed the hook to make its way around his blade. A flick of his wrist and the sword was torn from the greenette's grasp clattering against the pavement. With brute force, his fist made contact with Crocodile's jaw sending him back arms flailing for balance allowing Zoro an open shot at his torso diving into the large man's body. Both fought for dominance, Zoro ultimately losing, shouting a string of curses as Crocodile's hook swiped down his left eye from brow to cheekbone.

He stood over the bounty hunter chuckling, hook smearing Zoro's own blood against his throat. Perhaps enjoying his taste of victory a bit too much the raven began to speak only to have his words stifled by the crack of the pistol in Robin's hands. Swaying backward Crocodile dropped to the ground sputtering something incoherent.

"I'll contact Trafalgar and update Buggy on the mark." She stated calmly tearing the hem of her shirt and handing it to Zoro to cover his afflicted eye.

__________________

It was storming out, thunder continuously rattled the windows throughout the afternoon. Much like any other day off you cleaned and prepared dinner early in hopes that your boyfriend would finally be arriving home. A few days before he'd sent a simple text that the mission was completed but debriefing would take a bit longer than usual. You'd discarded all of your anger just happy he was alive and well fully intending to apologize the moment he walked over the threshold.

The sound of keys clattering against the deck drew your attention to the door. Heart pounding furiously you ran to open it for him.

"Moss - y..." your breath caught in your now constricted throat at the sight before you.

Zoro stood over the entrance, soaked green hair matted to his face far longer than it was the day he left. A bandage placed over his left eye, the right looking sunken and tired. You raised your hand gently caressing his stubbled jaw.

"What happened?" you managed pulling him into the house.

Without answering you he bent down capturing your lips. The tension left his body as he kissed you harder with an urgency you'd never experienced before. You allowed him to do as he pleased clearly needing the contact. Pressing you against the wall his large hands slipped behind your thighs lifting you off the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. Clinging to him now your fingers wrung out his drenched locks while his lips carved a burning trail down your throat.

"I'm sorry." you huffed embracing his head, nails grazing over his scalp while he continued to kiss, lick and bite at your chest, "I'm - so so-rry."

Zoro pulled back to look at you, lust glazing over his visible eye, now puffy chapped lips parted with his labored breaths.

"Shut up."

It wasn't an angry demand, he knew you were sorry, he was too. You didn't want him to take this job and he paid a price for it physically and mentally.

He began to devour you again with a sinfully deep kiss shoving your back further into the wall. You caved into the delicious haze of pheromones, moving with him rather than against. This was his time to take you as he pleased. Calloused fingers dug into your soft thighs, the right slipping into your shorts to cup your rear as he began to grind against you.

Sliding your hands over his shoulders instantly reminded of his soaked clothing.

"Z-zoro." You mewled trying to get your boyfriend's attention.

He grunted against the base of your throat acknowledging your flustered call but refusing to stop his assault.

"H-honey... Stop," you shivered, "you're soaked."

He pulled back lifting you away from the wall eliciting a yip as he carried you into your shared room depositing you on the mattress. Stepping back, he quietly tugged his wet clothes off before crawling over you. His right eye didn't leave your face as you took in the sight of his bare skin, rivulets of water still making their way down the valleys between muscles. You reached up to touch a deep bruise on his shoulder, but he caught your wrists pushing you back into the bed.

His hands roamed over your clothes with an intense need while he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. It seemed innocent enough, something teenagers do in the back of a car on a lakefront, but you were instantly a shuddering panting mess. You caught a glimpse of his smile as he lowered himself to grind against your clothed body.

Such a tease.

Slowly he pushed your shirt up tugging it off and discarding it with his own clothes. His stubble scraped against your skin as he placed soft kisses down your stomach before hooking his index fingers into your shorts and panties yanking them down your legs leaving you just as exposed as him, save for your knee-high striped socks. He ran his hand over your calf bending your knee as more kisses peppered your inner thigh. You squirmed trying to relieve the burning need the greenette incited. There was no need to prepare you further he could see that, and you hoped he'd end the teasing and give you what you so desperately wanted.

Done wasting time he gripped your hips and slowly pushed himself into your warmth watching your lips part to moan his name. His arms slipped under you as he lowered himself leaving no part of your torso untouched as he thrust unhurriedly into you. You panted, clawing at his broad back earning a growl against your shoulder. Now working in rhythm with each other it was getting harder to keep his cool. Your voice so close and desperate to keep him going drove him crazy.

Feeling his orgasm build he quickened his pace, pulling back slightly to press his thumb to your clit. There was no way he was going to cum first. Unaware of your competition, your needy whine at the loss of warmth ended in a loud moan.

"Fuck." You breathed reaching your limit and subsequently taking Zoro passed his.

He remained near pulling the sheets over both of you while you ran your fingers gently down the left side of his face. His body was littered with scars already, that you didn't mind, but the loss of one of his beautiful chestnut eyes had you in a pout.

"I hope he paid for that." You murmured.

He hummed brushing loose strands from your face. It was quiet as lightning flickered through the windows giving you a clearer view of his calm expression, which was much different than when he arrived. He watched you comfortably search his face a soft smile gracing your lips. Little things like this made his chest tight, never having thought he'd have someone look at him with such love and adoration.

Before he could stop himself to wait for a better moment, the words tumbled right out of his mouth, "Marry me."

#roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #Need #mdni #18+ only #one piece oneshots #one piece #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile #x reader #lemon

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byanyan · 4 months

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ㅤat this point, they're beyond wasted and vibing out to music that's too loud with several substances on standby for when the buzz starts wearing off. happy new year!!

#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ ic status ⋮ fighting a fight i'll win anyway.#excuse to make use of this gif bc it's one of my faves? maybe.#but mostly i don't want to make an ooc post bc i don't much care for new years #THAT SAID....... i do actually have a goal for this year #and that's to finally ACTUALLY take fucking steps toward getting a diagnosis so that i can maybe start to be a functioning human being #for the first time in far far too long #at this point i'm p sure i'm on the autism spectrum and/or adhd and only having treatment for depression & anxiety #and having psychs guess at MAYBE things like bpd are the underlying main issue #then not actually doing anything about it #has royally fucked over my quality of life since middle school (:#i don't like talking much about my life bc it's genuinely so embarrassing #but i figure maybe baring a little of my soul will help encourage me to finally take steps forward.#this is basically my happy place. my retreat. my escape.#and byan has effectively become my comfort character and a bit of an outlet #so while i'm out here crying about shit i just want to say a huge thank you to all of you lovely mutuals who have kept me company #and put up with my sharp and glittery little freak and given me all these amazing relationships for them #i'd be doin a whole lot worse if not for y'all you have no idea #thank you i love you and here's to hoping that 2024 is good and a better mental health year for all of us ♡♡♡#...there's a good chance i'll be embarrassed enough to delete all these tags later tbh #but i'm in basically the last time zone to hit midnight so it's probably late enough that most people won't see it anyway lmao

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niennanir · 10 months

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Listen to your elders

So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.

So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.

But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?

In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.

Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download

Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title:

No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.

Now you’re going to need some materials: 8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife

You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.

Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:

use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.

Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.

Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.

You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.

Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour

In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock

Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)

Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.

Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine

Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.

Voila:

I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.

The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.

If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders.

#fanbinding #fanfiction #Nir paperback

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gorejo · 8 months

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▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au

synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.

content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.

The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.

“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror.

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.

Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.

“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.

“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment.

“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.

“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.

It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.

College reunions, who looks forward to that?

There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.

One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project.

Poor kid was fired the next day.

The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened.

No wonder it was so fucking loud that night.

Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital.

Never in hell were you going to show up alone.

And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.

<< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!!

Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.

Maybe it was an excuse?

Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it?

But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world.

Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”

Was that already eight years ago?

But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…

… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.

“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.

Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.

“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.

“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”

“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”

“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”

“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.

“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging.

“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”

“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.

“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed.

Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?”

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.

“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off.

“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.

“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”

“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”

“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back.

“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?”

“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.

“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.

Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”

“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.

But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”

“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”

“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”

“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.

“You think so?”

“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”

“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers.

“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.

“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”

Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”

“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression

“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.

“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.

“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.

“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”

Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”

Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.

“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.

“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.

“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”

Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”

Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat.

“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko,

<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.

Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”

—

Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours.

They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.

But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.

Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career.

He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish.

When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam.

With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.

And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl.

Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”

“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”

“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”

“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes.

“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”

“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”

“Yea, why so?”

“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!”

Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you.

For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you.

Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number.

And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.

“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”

All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes.

But with him, you experienced all your firsts.

Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled, “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream.

You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day.

Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?”

Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you.

Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity.

To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.

He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart.

Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.

You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him.

So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it.

And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.

From: Mom.

>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled.

To: Minako.

<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako?

From: Minako.

>> Whenever! I can meet now!

>> Is this about our potential engagement?

To Minako.

<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.

You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.

The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.

You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”

how long was this going on for?

Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?

Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved?

Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?

The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.

... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day.

Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”

“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.

The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb.

After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”

Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.

“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”

“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”

“Says who?” the man challenged.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”

“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.

"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking.

“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”

“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”

Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.

After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him.

To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience.

To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.

—-

“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head.

Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.

You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl.

Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him.

But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.

Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way —

Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor.

“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?”

You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice.

Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered.

“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving.

You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.

“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.

Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week.

“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws.

Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs.

“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?”

“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot.

A ring? you wondered.

“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.

“Had no excuse not to come.”

“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”

“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.

Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”

Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes.

Since when did he have that ring?

Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.

Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —

“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”

Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.

Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”

“What are you talking —” you stammered.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat.

“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.

“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”

“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?

“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”

“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.

“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.

All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.

“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”

“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”

"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.

"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.

"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"

" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.

"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.

"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"

“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?”

“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.

“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.

“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.

His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"

“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.

You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore…

“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.

The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair, his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.

“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.

“… I love you,” you confessed.

Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”

...

You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.

Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.

Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.

“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.

Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring

“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.

“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again.

“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.

“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.

Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.

Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile.

And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.

“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you.

Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."

At least for this night, he was yours.

You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.

And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip.

Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed?

“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.

“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.

“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.

"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.

“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum.

His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.

Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.

“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”

You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.

“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.

And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.

“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.

“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured.

“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head.

Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.

Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.

“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.

Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.

“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.

…

How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago.

“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?”

Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.

“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”

Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.

“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”

“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.

“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”

“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.

“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.

Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.

"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."

"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.

“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.

“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”

Seven.

He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,

“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out.

You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.

“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.

“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.

"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms.

—-

Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.

Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.

Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.

Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.

His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.

His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.

Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing.

Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.

Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night.

“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.

“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.

You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.

And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,

“I’m sorry…”

—-

It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel.

You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.

Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.

You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.

You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.

You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.

And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,

“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”

“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.

Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.

You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish.

But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.

Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.

Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.

Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?

“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.

Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.

“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.

“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”

“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked

“Well, she did ask about us."

“And… did she threaten you or anything?”

“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled.

Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."

And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.

“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.

"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”

"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.

"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."

“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.

“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.

“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.

“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”

Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”

“B-but you came late to the reunion.”

“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.

“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.

“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."

"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."

"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”

“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.

“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.

“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.

“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”

"I'd like that," you whispered.

“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes.

And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,

“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”

author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells

again, i hope you enjoyed it!!

p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #darkmode.#forbes30!gojo

9K notes · View notes

sttoru · 3 months

Text

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. coming home from university has both stressed and tired you out — causing you to forget about satoru’s birthday. maybe your boyfriend could help you remember.

word count. 4.7k-ish

note. was supposed to come out on his (our) bday but writer’s block was ruthless :p hope you enjoy anyway x

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. p.orn with plot. fluff to smut. age gap (reader 20 - early 20’s, satoru’s in his early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected, size difference, missionary, creampie, breast play, dirty talk, body worship, hickeys, praise, you f.uck in the kitchen, aftercare-ish, reader gets called ‘princess, sweetheart, baby, pretty.’ i present to you soft dom&older bf!gojo satoru. he’s absolutely smitten with you btw.

“lookin’ tired, sweetheart.” satoru comments with a subtle grin as he welcomes you home. home being his apartment that you had basically moved into. why? because it was close to the university you attend.

and maybe because your lover had coaxed you into it.

you sigh, eyes half closed and glazed over. the stress of exams, assignments and whatnot has been too much for your brain, “yeah, i’m sorry. i probably look like absolute shi—”

a pair of lips were quick to shut your negative remark up. satoru pulls you closer to him by the small of your back. his fluffy bangs brush over his closed eyes, the hairs lightly grazing your forehead as well. he smells and tastes sweet. like those strawberry flavoured candies he always carries with him in his pockets.

a faint string of saliva hanging between your two mouths was all that’s left after the intense kiss. it snaps, causing the small bit of liquid to cling onto your bottom lip.

“what’d i say about apologising when you did absolutely nothing wrong?” satoru asks in a gentle and hushed tone. his thumb presses down on your bottom lip to get rid of the transparent trail of saliva. his gaze is soft and loving — like it always is when he looks at you.

that man had once again rendered you speechless. it’s the small things that make you fall for him over and over, “that—uhm—i shouldn’t apologise for something i don’t have any control over.”

satoru’s dimples show as he looks down at you fondly. a large hand settles on the top of your head, messing up your hair whilst his lips lock yours in for another kiss.

“exactly,” your lover nods in approval before grabbing your bag and placing it aside. he also helps you take off your coat and even bends down to undo your shoes for you.

you wonder how you’ve even managed to land such a man.

satoru’s long fingers work quick to undo the laces on your shoes. your tired eyes can’t help but steal a glance at the veins that run down his slender hands — up his forearms and. . .

“somethin’ on your mind, princess?” his voice calls out as he massages your feet for a split second to ease the accumulated tension from all the walking. you simply shake your head ‘no’, though satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

with a light-hearted chuckle, he raises to his full length and leads you through the hallway. his footsteps were light whilst yours were the exact opposite: heavy and exhausted.

maybe a shower or bath would help you refresh and relax. thus, that’s exactly what the sorcerer recommends;

“why don’t you go take a nice shower whilst i prepare you a hot meal, hm?” satoru comments and stops in his tracks right before the door to the bathroom. his gaze lingers on your pretty face—his hands never leaving your skin.

the idea of taking a shower did seem like the ideal solution to your problems at the moment, “okay i will, but err. . .”

your voice trails off as you look up at satoru. his knuckles run over your cheeks lovingly and his warm gaze tells you that he’s smitten with you. totally. utterly. he makes you so nervous without even realising it in the slightest.

“you don’t have to cook me something. i know work has been hard on you too.” you finish your sentence with an apologetic little smile. one that makes satoru want to squeeze your cheeks together.

you had always been a bit selfless and it’s an admirable trait, but your boyfriend also has this gnawing urge to take care of you in any way he can. maybe it’s because he’s a few years older than you and knows from experience how tough things could get at your age.

satoru smirks and pokes your sides playfully, “don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that. now let’s get you in that shower.”

a little yelp leaves your throat as you feel yourself get hoisted over his shoulder. the white-haired sorcerer opens the door with one hand, the other protectively placed on your waist to keep you from falling.

he settles you back on your feet in the middle of the room—eyes now filled with a playful glint. you could probably already guess the next words that leave his mouth.

“need help undressing? i’ll gladly do it for you,” satoru laughs. you roll your eyes and teasingly shove him towards the door. he puts his hands in the air to show his surrender, though doesn’t miss the opportunity to look you over one last time.

you’re like the embodiment of beauty even when your eyes have lost their usual spark. even if you barely have any energy left to do anything. he loves every side of you, no matter what.

resisting the urge to pull you into his arms for the nth time, your boyfriend eventually leaves you be and closes the door as he steps out. his mind, however, was still overly full with thoughts of you.

“ah, what a woman.” satoru mutters in pure amazement under his breath after departing from the bathroom. there’s a visible spring in his step as he walks to the kitchen—happy to take care of his girl.

. . .

you finish your much needed bath after about half an hour. you look in the bathroom mirror whilst wrapping a simple white towel around your torso. the bath sure did help to clear your mind, though there’s still one thing bothering you. something you’ve forgotten.

you can’t really put your finger on it, but it must have been something important. there’s an iffy feeling in your chest as you walk out of the bathroom — instantly heading towards the kitchen. surely, satoru could help you remember it.

“toru,” you call out before stepping into the kitchen. your lover is standing at the counter, his back towards you and his hands working fast to chop up some vegetables. the many pans and stoves scattered around the area only further prove his determination to prepare you a nice hot meal.

“yeah, princ— oh.” satoru eventually turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see you standing a few steps behind him. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend in his apartment was one thing—but having his girlfriend in front of him with only a towel on was another thing. the remaining waterdroplets running down your skin made you all the more attractive.

he grins as he puts the knife down and quickly dries his hands. he couldn’t wait to put his hands on your body, “c’mere, pretty.”

you grunt the moment satoru envelopes you into a tight hug with your face squished into his chest. he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head—over dramatically acting as if he hasn’t seen you for days.

his hands teasingly find their way under the material of the towel. the tips of his fingers are cold in comparison to your warm and damp skin. he drags the pad of his thumb up and down the curve of your ass; sighing in content as he feels the plush flesh.

“perv.” you mutter under your breath, though can’t deny that the light touch makes you putty in his hands. satoru responds with his usual ‘only when it comes to you’ comment before pulling away to take in your embarrassed expression. he lives for those physical reactions you have to his advances.

you slightly turn your head to the right, purposely avoiding his gaze. you face the door of the fridge that you stood in front of. your eyes fall onto the sticky notes. there’s one standing out from all the others.

you had placed it on there a few weeks ago so you wouldn’t accidentally forget that oh-so-important date.

turns out you did just that.

your face drops and you instantly go into panic mode. how could you fail to recall that today is satoru’s birthday? you don’t even know how to explain yourself. no amount of excuses would ever make this right. or so you thought.

satoru is an attentive lover; he is aware of almost everything that’s going on in your head. perhaps he is good at reading minds. or perhaps it’s just that your body language and facial expressions disclose everything he needs to know about your current mood.

“hey, i’m not upset.” satoru breathes out, eyes closed as he slides ticklish kisses down your neck. it is a sign of reassurance; he doesn’t want you to conclude that he’s angry with you for forgetting such a thing. besides, he understands that being an university student is a struggle by itself, “having you here with me at the end of the day ‘s all that matters to me, okay?”

you sigh, both in frustration and content. you’re frustrated with yourself for being too caught up with your studies, though you’re also appreciative for satoru’s empathy and lenience. he is so kind and mature; always optimistic about everything. your mindset is the opposite of his. your age gap sure did explain those cognitive differences.

despite satoru’s consolation, you still feel like you owe him something. you tilt your head back so you’re able to look him in the eyes. you give him the cutest pout ever and that man is—once again—feeling light-headed. satoru can’t decide whether to continue consoling you or to tease you about forgetting his birthday.

you are adorable when you sulk.

“i’m still.. well, sorry.” you sniffle, cuddling up to your lover to show your genuine remorse, “i know that you wouldn’t ever forget about my birthday - no matter how busy you might. . . .”

blahblahblah. you are babbling on and on about how inappropriate it is of you to forget his birthday, but satoru is hearing none of that.

his coherent thoughts shut down the moment he felt your tits press up against his chest. it is meant as an innocent hug on your part, however apparently couldn’t be interpreted as one.

your visible cleavage and the way the towel is doing a bad job at hiding the volume of your breasts increases the lewd thoughts gathering in his mind. there is no way that he can survive any more physical contact between you two without taking some action.

“..so, i was thinking that i could make it up to you somehow.” you conclude at one point in the conversation. satoru’s body subtly jolts as he snaps out of his dazed state.

he gives you a sheepish smile and tries to play it off by continuing the conversation, “make it up to me, huh?”

you nod in response and give him your best puppy dog eyes. your lover sighs in defeat; satoru couldn’t keep his emotions and carnal desires in check anymore. his hands are twitching, aching and longing to touch you all over.

the rational part of his mind told him to continue comforting you. to tell you that there was no need to compensate for failing to remember his birthday. the lust-driven part of him craves to take you up on the offer and give a different and more sexual twist to it.

satoru takes a deep breath and puts some distance between you two. not because he is annoyed or irritated by your behaviour, but because he might lose control of himself.

you can’t guess the intentions behind your lover’s actions, thus confusion follows; “satoru? you okay?”

maybe he actually is displeased by your lack of remembrance—deep, deep inside. you bite your lip anxiously, reaching your hand out to hold satoru’s in attempt to try and get him to look at you. his vision is obstructed by his own bangs, a dark shadow casted over his eyes, one that prevents you from gauging his mood.

you feel a light electric shock go through your body the instant your fingers curled around his hand. your boyfriend’s body stiffens and it’s like time stilled.

“fuck, i tried.” satoru mutters under his breath.

then, before you knew what was happening, you’re pinned to the door of the fridge. there are efforts made to articulate proper words, but the shock has overtaken all your senses. it isn’t like you could speak either—your lips are sealed shut by your lover’s.

his hands didn’t waste a single second now that they have free rein. they fondle you everywhere; from cupping your cheeks, to sliding down your neck and lower. his fingers rub up against the area where your nipples would be, sensually stroking them through the towel. his feverish kisses combined with his constant touches make you shiver in exhilaration.

you’re trying to keep up with his sudden burst of lust and that’s adorable to the white-haired sorcerer. he can feel you struggling to keep yourself balanced on your toes, your arms wrap tightly around his neck so you’d be inseparable. you feel him grin against your lips for a split second—the gesture alerting you of what might be coming.

“mmh,” satoru grunts once he frees your bare body from its confines. he finally breaks the kiss—the sole reason being to admire the sight of you.

it feels like he just unveiled a heavenly painting. his eyes don’t know what to focus on. if he is to properly and completely appreciate your nude body, it’d take him days or even weeks, “god, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be yours?”

your heart stutters in your chest as all attention is on you. the gentle yet hungry touch of your lover, his hands caressing everywhere they can reach and his half-lidded eyes that are focused on your most intimate parts—you don’t know how much more you can take.

satoru’s breathing becomes even heavier than it was moments ago. he leans his head down to your level, lips hovering above the space between your neck and shoulder. his mouth latches onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. but alas, he is a simple man.

his lips work precisely and diligently to leave hickeys on every inch. his teeth gently sink into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings left. your body is his canvas for tonight and the many other nights that are yet to come — for as long as you give him permission to.

“ngh— t.. toru,” you stammer, almost squealing. the sloppy kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. satoru feels a rush of satisfaction like no other; the frequency of his touches only increasing with each sound erupting from your throat. his tongue slides over your plump breasts, his fingers flicking the nipple he isn’t sucking on.

he eventually detaches from your tits, leaving them both covered in his saliva. he hums in delight at the erotic view and gives both your breasts a last kiss. satoru looks up into your eyes again—a sense of want in them, “you look like you have somethin’ to say, baby.”

you do, but, don’t know how to bring the message across. it is embarrassing to say all of your thoughts out loud; all that you actually want him to do that you. you know satoru would love it if you do, however you do not have the guts to.

your body does all the talking anyway. there is a pool of slick forming between your thighs, your bodily fluids showing just how aroused you are. you aren’t the only one in that state; satoru has had a raging hard-on the entire time.

“i want you.” there it goes.

you avert your eyes, though not for long. gentle fingers hold your chin up, forcing you to stare at your lover. his face is intensely close and your heart is in your throat. satoru grins at your shy behaviour, finding it all the more endearing.

“awh, my little princess wants me?” he pouts, almost mockingly if you didn’t know better. his gaze flickers downwards, “where d’ya want me? show me, baby.”

if you aren’t embarrassed already, you’d sure be now. satoru’s teasing words and the sultry tone of voice he uses eventually urges you to comply. your shaky fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand down towards your tingling cunt, “here.”

the older man hisses at the direct contact his hand makes with your pussy. it is so wet and ready — he wanted nothing more than to bury his fat cock between your folds and feel your sweet little cunt cling onto it.

he cups your cunt delicately, grazing his thumb against your clit. he traces faint circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves to make you squirm and whimper in pleasure. his other fingers spread your folds apart so he can collect your wetness on them.

“how naughty,” satoru sighs. his index finger prods at your entrance, but your thighs clamp down around his hand before he’s able to push it in.

he snickers in amusement and retracts his hand. he licks your juices off of his long fingers in a painfully slow manner, “well.. who am i to deny you? what the princess says, goes.”

satoru lifts your body up in his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. he kisses you passionately again—his tongue swirling around yours. you exchange soft moans as your hands lift his shirt up and over his head.

you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your lover’s well-built upper body. that drives him utterly insane. that look you give him.

satoru curses under his breath and pulls you down onto the carpet below. he carefully places you on your back and—once you are settled—instantly rushes to undo his grey sweatpants.

his eyes are darting from his clothes to your naked body under him. god, he wants to fuck you so bad. the view of you spread out and patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. it’s a sinful scene, yet the pleading and almost innocent-like look in your eyes is a complete contrast.

“don’t worry, i’ll give it to you in a second, baby.” satoru grins once he pulls his boxers down to his knees—revealing his hardened cock. he strokes it slowly and the pre-cum drips down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over his pink tip.

after getting a couple strokes in, he grabs the base of his dick and guides it to your wet cunt. satoru rubs his tip up and down your slit. what he didn’t expect is for his cockhead to slide into you so easily. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort.

your back arches due to the feeling and your nails dig into the carpet below you. the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum is all the lubricant you need.

“shit. seems like she doesn’t wanna let go any time soon.” satoru addresses your cunt with a groan whilst he slips his fat cock deeper into you. his eyes roll back as he feels the warmth of your pussy engulfing him, “. . .not like i was planning to leave her empty anyway.”

you moan and shiver at both satoru’s dirty words and his dick that’s currently stuffing your insides full. your mouth hangs open, your eyes remain shut and your brain takes in all the granted sensations. adjusting to his lengthy size takes you a few seconds and when you gave your boyfriend permission to continue— that’s exactly what he does.

his hips thrust in an almost hypnotising rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. every interval between the firm movements is the exact same. the thing that differs and makes the experience all the better, is the difference in strength behind each thrust.

one moment he’s carefully sliding in and out of your sopping cunt and in the next he’s forcefully slamming his cock all the way in and out. satoru stifles his moans by attaching his lips to yours—capturing them in a sloppy, rough kiss.

“satoru—satoru, ah, please.. right there,” you mewl into his mouth. his tongue finds yours and your salivas mix.

your lover answers your pleas by holding onto your hand, your fingers interlocking with his thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. satoru never fails to make you feel loved during intimate acts like these. no matter how filthy, nasty and rough he’s fucking you.

you arch your back and your chest presses against satoru’s, causing him to groan against your lips. a cocky grin appears on his face after he moves his head to the crook of your neck. he leaves a couple hickeys along the area of your throat—his hips not giving you a break. even as you continuously whimper and look like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.

that’s what satoru wants; to have you come undone beneath him. it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to him. others may call it perverted, but the older man always aims to make you reach as many orgasms as you can in one night. it fuels his carnal desires to see you convulse and shake after every intense climax.

his baby feeling good is all he wants to achieve.

“mhm, i know, princess. i know.” satoru breathes out and returns his lips to yours. he can’t go on long without tasting you. you’re like a drug he’s addicted to. every reaction—small or big—gets him going, “take it easy—fuck, you can do that f’me."

you reply with incoherent noises of agreement. there’s not a thought going on behind those watery eyes of yours. that much is obvious to your boyfriend.

your legs lock his cock inside of you by wrapping around his hips. your eyes are glazed over; a cockdrunk look. one that would make any man cum on spot.

“princess, wait,” satoru whines. he can’t stop himself, yet he’s telling you to wait. his body refuses to come to a halt as it strives towards a satisfying orgasm. he can feel it, his balls tightening and ready to spill everything they have, “if you continue looking at me like that, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

he isn’t lying. you’re nearly driving him over the edge with everything you do. your legs that tighten their grip around his hips in fear of him pulling out is his favorite thing to experience. it’s like you’re desperate to continue.

your hands play with his sweaty body, fingers caressing his hard chest to feel his heartbeat. you’re drooling. your head is spinning as you think of your lover claiming you. fucking his precious cum into you, “inside—want it inside. all of it.”

satoru chokes on his spit. you don’t know what you do to him. muttering such erotic words causes the older man to malfunction every time. without fail. his hips are painfully ramming against yours.

“you sure? ah, shit.” satoru curses. his brows are furrowed, his hands holding you by your jaw. the view of you with your head tilted back and your teary eyes looking straight into his is pure perfection, “can’t deny you when you look so hot begging me to cum inside your greedy little pussy.”

the room is spinning. your nails claw into satoru’s back, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. you shudder the instant he slides out of you until all that’s left is his pink tip prodding at your entrance.

it’s like he gets off on it. to see you whimper, quiver and struggle to contain your pleas for permission to cum. your boyfriend drags his tip up and down your slit, tapping it against your clit repeatedly.

“cum f’me, baby.” satoru coos. he knows you’re right on the edge. before you can reply, he shoves his cock back inside your spasming cunt—ruthlessly pounding you until you scream his name.

your eyes roll back and all you can do is hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washes over you. your hips buck, your legs tremble and your pussy gushes all over his cock.

spurts of clear liquid cover satoru’s thighs. you squirting isn’t something he had expected to see, but it is a pleasant surprise regardless. it all gets too much for your lover and it drives him to his own climax as well.

satoru hugs you tightly to him. your chests press together with one of his arms holding your upper body up—his nose buried into your hair. a muffled grunt escapes his mouth and that’s when you know that he's reaching his finish.

“please—take it, take it, take it,” satoru stutters and stammers. he can’t form any proper words the moment his cock twitches and releases a huge load of sperm into your womb. it’s an overwhelming amount; globs of transculent white liquid ooze out from between your folds.

his sticky cum slides down to your asshole and onto the carpet, staining it. satoru bites his bottom lip whilst his body is still recovering, cock going soft once he pulls it out. he doesn’t know what to do or where to look, yet somehow his gaze always darts back to your dripping cunt.

“fuck. . . that’s hot.” the older man takes in a deep breath. it’s too soon to get hard again, he figures. the way you’re still trembling and struggling to catch your breath tells him enough. you need a break. and a well-deserved one it is.

your weak taps against satoru’s shoulder snaps him out of his dazed state. he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes before helping you into a sitting position. his blue eyes flash with worry,

“hey, hey, baby—you okay?” satoru asks. his voice is raspy, though obviously filled with concern. he rubs your back and encourages you to take deep breaths. small kisses to your temples help calm you down too.

your breathing eventually returns to normal. you chuckle tiredly and lean your head against his shoulder. your attentive lover wipes the saliva from the corners of your lips and does the same with the tears around your eyes. you sniff, “y-yeah. just felt amazing, hehe.”

satoru sighs in relief. he was scared that he hurt you somehow. your confession makes him laugh and squeeze your body against his. he cups your face and kisses you twice out of pure adoration.

you’re always ten times more adorable to him after you’ve had sex.

“aw, glad it did.” satoru smiles, his dimples showing. your eyes glisten and you smile back out of reflex. you pucker your lips and your lover takes the hint. he presses his mouth against yours once more; this time playfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.

you pull back and teasingly swat his bicep. satoru tickles your side as a response. and that’s how you once again end on the floor, with a heavy weight pressing onto your front.

satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. you’re the best thing to have happened to him. you, the love of his life.

“the best present i could have ever gotten.” the white-haired sorcerer mumbles to no one in particular. though, you heard it. faintly.

you rub his back. you’re sure you made it up to him. he’s clinging onto you, nearly suffocating you by laying on top of your smaller body, but you don’t mind. you play with his hair and your fingernails graze against his undercut to which satoru reacts with a low purr.

you’re happy. he’s happy. that’s all that matters;

“happy birthday, my love.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #female reader

5K notes · View notes

sugurizz · 11 months

Text

(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

Yoga instructor! Geto who starts your private session together with the brightest smile and the kindest words. He helps you unwind with some breathing exercises then tells you to mirror his movements and positions. He even gently corrects your stance to perfectly match his own.

Yoga instructor! Geto notices that your muscles are still tense and that your body needs to loosen up a bit more. So he invites you to sit in front of him and starts massaging your neck and shoulders. his slender yet powerful fingers are hitting the perfect spots in your body as if he was inside it, driving every hint of stress away through your skin.

Yoga instructor! Geto who pushes the sighs of satisfaction out of your lips. Slowly getting you all loose and putty in his hands as you try your best not to moan from his melting touches.

"I'm glad my lovely client is enjoying my small service." He whispers deeply next to your neck, eyes filled with fiery lust hiding under his dark lashes.

The heat you felt in your cheeks is now pooling in your belly, then burning down into your sex. His touches are getting painfully slower. But he's still as cool and unbothered as always, only taunting your senses and driving your heart insane for his own heart's content.

You somehow decide to strip off to your sportsbra, telling him that it makes it easier for him to reach your pressure points.

Yoga instructor! Geto who agrees with a little smirk, but now just to be fair, he gets to take off his black tank top as well.

Your back is now rubbing against his abs. His arms are caging you tight on either side and his long fingers roam dangerously lower, from the curves of your breasts down to him strocking the fat of your stomach, carressing your hips and ghosting over your wet pussy.

Yoga instructor! Geto who notices you giving him the cutest puppy eyes. You never break eye contact with him as you spread your legs wide, take his hand in yours then place it on the spot that's aching for him the most..

"Sorry...It felt a little warm. maybe because of the stress.." you drift your eyes away only for them to meet his again, cheeks squeezed between his fingers.

"Aww, is that so ??"

"Yeah.."

"don't you worry love. I'mma take care of it"...

Yoga instructor! Geto who's now face buried in your cunt cause 'he needs to relieve your inner tension'. His silky tongue is smoothing its way between your folds you and shamelessly making out with your pussy lips. His eyes are smiling at you as he releases your clit with the cutest "pop" sound.

Yoga instructor! Geto who's now pounding you in a full nelson with your legs on both sides of your head. His large hands keep your head still as he promises you he's gonna chase all your tension away.

"hnngh..how does it feel now, cupcake? ah-fuck.. is the stress gone yet?"

Yoga instructor! Geto who tells you to come more often, because he won't be charging you for your private sessions anymore.

11K notes · View notes

moonlesslights · 11 months

Text

Miguel O’hara in Love

Headcanons.

━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━

A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.

Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)

This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.

Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.

You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.

And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.

What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.

The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.

He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.

You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.

“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”

You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.

“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”

“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”

The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.

That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.

“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.

You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.

“For real?”

“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”

His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.

“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.

He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.

Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.

No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.

Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.

Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.

“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.

Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.

History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.

You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.

No. You would never find out about that.

Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.

But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.

“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:

“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.

“I know.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”

He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.

He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.

“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.

“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.

“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”

That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?

Were you really that bored?

“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.

You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.

“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”

You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.

Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.

He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.

You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?

“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.

He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.

He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.

When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

You nod without waiting for another question.

“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.

It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.

Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.

He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal…

Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.

He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.

With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.

“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”

“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.

“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”

Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”

“Miguel…”

“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”

When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.

“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.

“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.

“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.

You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.

It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.

His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.

The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.

“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.

“Need help?”

You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”

“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.

But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.

You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.

Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.

His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.

“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.

“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”

“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.

But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.

“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.

“I’m…”

“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.

And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.

And then… A call.

He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.

His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.

“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.

“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.

“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”

And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.

“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”

He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.

“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”

The woman, for the first time, remains silent.

“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”

A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.

She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.

She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.

Miguel wanted to own you.

He wasn’t good at hiding it.

His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.

Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.

But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.

When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.

“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.

He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.

“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.

You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.

The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.

You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.

“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.

“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.

You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.

You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.

But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.

“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.

“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.

You nod.

“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.

“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.

He was so close, he just needed…

“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.

You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.

He was ready for the next round.

…

Thank you so much for coming all this way!

PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.

This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.

I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.

Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3

PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!

PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.

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