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orchidyoonkook · 6 months

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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

2K notes · View notes

blkkizzat · 7 months

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ღ𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙨 & 𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙨 ღ

11/14: Werewolf!Toji Part 2 up now!

Halloween is my fav holiday and Horror is my fav movie genre so how could I not participate in a SPOOKY KINKTOBER!

All inspired by my favorite horror villains!

Song Inspo: Thriller & Smooth Criminal General CW: Blood play might be heavy in a few of these. Dubcon or Noncon in most of these but the reader will enjoy/consent by the end. Death but only of minor/NPC no name characters(ie, your fuckass bf, bitchy chem professor, next door neighbor, mailman, etc) and manipulation. Schedule: There will be no order. But for the month of October I will only be focusing on these until I finish. Subject to change if I hit writers block or I may add more (but doubt it as classes start end of this month). Tag: will tag works #☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳

ღ𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮ღ

FreddyKruger!Sukuna

Kink Tags: Teratophilia, Size Difference, Virgin, Chasity Synopsis: Teens in town have been dying in their sleep from horrible dreams. Hard up virgin Y/N won't take sleeping pills to stop dreaming because she only gets relief in her wet dreams. What will happen when Sukuna (true form) enters them? WC: ?

Sadako!Geto

Kink Tags: Voyerism, Squirting, Overstimulation Synopsis: Camgirl!Reader hasn't been able to make herself squirt yet and is teased by her chat. She buys a new toy and downloads a random porn an anon user sent her "guaranteed to make you squirt" but is it just a normal porn? Or is there something more sinister on it? WC: ?

Werewolf!Toji

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] - Finished! Kink Tags: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? WC: 10.4k

ღ𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙮 𝙖 𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡ღ

Ghostface!Choso

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] - Finished! Kink Tags: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? WC: 15.4k

Hannibal!Nanami

Kink Tags: Olfactophilia, Body Worship, Menophilia Synopsis: You're immensely grateful for your kind, empathetic and open-minded (not to mention very handsome) psychiatrist Nanami who has gotten you through some very rough patches in your life. However when you show up at his home office for unannounced session and discover him preparing dinner, are you whats next on the menu? WC: ?

InvisibleMan!Gojo

Kink Tags: Mirror Sex, Frottage, Stalker Synopsis: Fed up with his antics and him ignoring you, you breakup with your tech genius boyfriend Gojo. It's been a month and you've started to move on with your life but odd occurrences have been happening around you and you have the feeling you are being watched 24/7. You need a vacay and your friend Shoko offers up her lake cabin. Will you be safe there? Or will whoever is watching you have you right where they want you? WC: ?

BONUS: Free for all section of general Halloween themes if I finish all the rest or need to do a quick drabble to cure writers block.

Why you can’t watch scary movies with JJK men - Drabble, 2k words

Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK Men - Fic 10k

JJK Men Slutty Halloween Costumes - Ask

If i have time I will do Cult/Ritual Sex/Gangbang on reader. With most if not all JJK men listed here

Not poppin' enough for an official taglist but if you are interested in any of these stories let me know and I will tag you. ETA - 11/21 still taking adds as I do plan to finish the rest, eventually.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

Glitter text created @ Pookatoo.com

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 5 months

Text

Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1

RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.

(Y/N) - Your name.

NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!

Word count: 2.5k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.

That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.

You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).

One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.

“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.

“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”

—

“Please!”

Stab.

“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”

Stab.

“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”

The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.

“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.

“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.

“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.

“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.

For now.

Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.

“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”

How fucking dare he.

How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.

For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.

He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?

They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.

Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.

“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”

Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.

“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.

“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.

“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.

Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.

—

Something was off.

Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.

Your phone started to ring.

Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

No answer.

You left out a huff and tried again.

“Hellooo?”

When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.

“I think you got the wrong numb-“

“Wanna play a game?”

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“I said, wanna play a game?”

“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”

“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.

“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.

“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”

Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.

“Warmer.”

Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.

“Colder.”

You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.

“Hotter.”

You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.

“Hotter.”

You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.

“You're on fucking fire baby.”

Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.

“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.

You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.

“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.

“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.

You black out.

—

“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.

“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.

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mrsriddlenott · 5 months

Text

12 Days Of SmutMas

18+ Only!! My first Fic Event!!!!!

I am literally so excited to do this bc I wanted to do an October/Halloween event but didn’t have the time so I hope you guys are excited with meee!!!!

These fics will start coming out on the 5th and 6th, (I’m giving the first 4 days to see what requests I get), then every other day until Christmas Eve with the last one coming out on Christmas Day👏👏

[Requests Closed]

1. First Christmas ~ James Potter 12/5/23

Summary: You and James have your first Christmas in your new flat together. You two have fun buying new decorations and deciding where they’ll go while getting distracted in every room you put them in.

2. Christmas Movie Marathon ~ JJ Maybank 12/6/23

Summary: You, JJ, and the Pogues spend Christmas together in the chateau watching all your favorite holiday movies, until your mischievous boyfriend gets bored and wants to distract you as well.

3. Family Christmas ~ [closed] Theodore Nott & Mattheo Riddle 12/8/23

Summary: Theo brings you and Mattheo to his family’s Christmas dinner for the first time making you a nervous wreck, desperate to make a good impression. The boys notices your anxiety and decide to help you with your nerves in Theo’s bathroom before you eat with his family.

4. Santa Clause Is Coming To Town ~ Klaus Mikaelson 12/10/23

Summary: When Klaus mysteriously returns from New Orleans, the Mystic Falls gang worries about what he’s planning, though his only plan is to convince you to join him for Christmas in The Big Easy, by any means necessary. Starting with lavish gifts, attention, and affections, and ending with his mouth wherever you wish it.

5. Decorate With Me ~ [closed] Mattheo Riddle 12/12/23

Summary: Alpha!Mattheo is too lazy to decorate the house for the holiday’s, thinking it useless, you however entice him to decorate one thing at a time as you strip for him, teasing him and escaping his grasp until all that’s left to do is place the ornaments on the tree, leaving him to decorate you.

6. Secret Santa ~ bsf!Sirius Black 12/14/23

Summary: Sirius gets your name for Secret Santa and decides to prank you by having you open a dildo in front of all your friends. However, he’s shocked and flustered when you jokingly say you’re grateful and you’ll need it since your sex life is stale. In private, Sirius tells you he’d like to change that.

7. Stocking Stuffers ~ [closed] Mattheo Riddle & Theodore Nott 12/16/23

Summary: Insanely horny Mattheo and Theo help you decorate for Christmas in your cute holiday themed outfit and hear you refer to putting gifts in their stocking as needing to stuff their stockings, and can’t help but get distracted by the idea of stuffing your stickings with a gift too.

8. Scrooge ~ Rafe Cameron 12/18/23

Summary: Rafe never had much Christmas spirit, luckily his girlfriend absolutely had enough for both of them. Conflicts ensue as you attempt to get him festive, and when he wakes up in a sour mood on Christmas of all days, you’re not having it, giving him a Christmas gift from under the sheets that makes him the most jolly mother fucker in Tanneyhill.

9. You Ruined The Surprise ~ [closed] Anakin Skywalker 12/20/23

Summary: Emperor!Anakin walks in on you wrapping his gifts on Christmas Eve, making you fear the holiday to be ruined, but he reminds you he still gets to wait and unwrap his favorite gift under the tree, you. Leading to a long night of teasing until he can finally unwrap his gift in the morning.

10. Office Party ~ boss!Bucky Barnes x Reader 12/22/23

Summary: Your job’s annual Christmas party is approaching and for the first time since your recent divorce, you will be without a date. Unbeknownst to you your boss and mentor will be facing the same issue, leading to an unforeseen Christmas gift with many consequences.

11. Gingerbread Men ~ [closed] Lorenzo Berkshire 12/24/23

Summary: Dark!Enzo happily helps you decorate your Christmas cookies, laughing as you decorate gingerbread men to look like each other to eat. Enzo jokes that your homemade cookie tastes amazing but no where near as good as the real you, leading to kitchen shenanigans.

12. Christmas In Bed ~ 🎄🎁 12/25/23

Your Last Gift Will Be Opened On Christmas Day☺️😁

Please send Character Requests from any universe 👇below👇 for any of the prompts that are free. I am better at writing m&f smut but I am entirely welcome to any other pairing if I think I’m capable of writing it, poly couples are welcome!!

- HP Universe (any era, fanon&canon characters)

- TVD Universe (any of the 3 series’ characters)

- TWD Universe (main&FTWD characters pref.)

- Outer Banks

- The Umbrella Academy

- Star Wars (main&prequel trilogy pref.)

- Teen Wolf

- Stranger Things (will not write for the main kids)

- Supernatural

- MCU

Requests for this event are open until all free prompts are filled. Please include what relationship the character will have with the reader and the number of the prompt you want them to fill!!

- My Relationship/Smut Request Guidelines -

✅Best Friend x Reader

✅Bsf’s Sibling & Sibling’s Bsf x Reader

✅Friends W/ Benefits

✅New Step Sibling x Reader

✅Teacher/Professor x 18+ Reader

✅Alpha x Omega

✅Dominant x Submissive (hard&soft smut, I’m not good at writing Dom reader but I will try)

✅Power Imbalance (examples: boss,leader,blackmail,corruption kink, etc.)

✅Dark!Character x Reader (examples: obsessed,possessive,criminal, etc.)

❌Real Ince$t

❌Be$tiality

❌Minor x Adult

❌Non/Dub Consent

❌Cheating on or with Reader

~~~~

Taglist (lmk if u want on or off, my main taglist rn is just my HP taglist tbh)

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kiwi475

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damianbugs · 7 months

Note

with all this gotham war stuff (most recently the comic sc you posted on your twt with jason and bruce), can u explain what is actually going on? like, i’m not that far so i haven’t read it, but… like is it actually bruce saying all that stuff about the kids? or is it this zur person people keep talking about?

oh my friend, it's crazy around here, but i will try my best to explain it!

A GUIDE TO UNDERSTANDING WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO BATMAN IN GOTHAM WAR:

firstly, the comic reading list to catch up with gotham war is: as of 01/10/23 (the ones in italics are core issues to the story)

for some background on what happens leading up to gotham war:

Batman (2016) #125-136

(Optional) Knight Terrors: Batman

(Optional) Knight Terrors: Catwoman

and then the actual gotham war story:

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Battle Lines

Batman (2016) #137

Catwoman (2018) #57

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Red Hood #1

this is everything that is out right now, but from the third of october to halloween we will also be getting: Batman #138, Catwoman #58, Gotham War: Red Hood #2, Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Scorched Earth.

secondly... who is Zur En Arrh.

Zur En Arrh taking over Bruce, Batman (2016) #126

zur en arrh, in the simplest way of explaining, is this alter ego/personality (it's unclear) bruce created for himself should batman (bruce wayne) ever be psychologically compromised or brainwashed. it's not him, but a more sadistic and crueler person that is the "ultimate batman" who doesn't care about anyone or anything but getting the mission done.

during Batman #125-130, zur takes over the role of batman because bruce was losing very badly to the robot Failsafe (which is zur's own creation, that bruce has no memory of making). after getting vaporised by failsafe and sent travelling through dozens of alternate universes, losing his hand and fighting a flying shark (Batman #131-135), bruce returns to gotham incredibly mentally unstable.

During a peaceful dinner with his family, Bruce suddenly imagines the entire world on fire, Batman (2016) #136.

during everything, bruce managed to mentally fight back and kind of... merge their ideals together in order to survive and win in the moment.

and then successfully trapping failsafe back into his mind where he can no longer take over!

Bruce uses some sort of mental technique to lock Zur away in his mind, Batman (2016) #136.

except he didn't succeed! at all!

you see, when travelling through all those universes, bruce somehow brought back every single version of zur en arrh with him. now all of then combined, plus his already deteriorating and weak mental health from the last few years, bruce is currently operating under the impression that he's locked zur away, when he actually hasn't.

zur is the one partly, or even entirely, in control. right now, he's just pretending to stay locked away so bruce continues to do what he thinks is 'right' despite them being incredibly out of character for the run.

During his eight week coma, Bruce sees Zur 'locked away' and he is, apparently, not alone, Gotham War: Battle Lines (2023)

an example is when zur referred to robin as batman's solider, bruce mentally fought back to make it clear that tim was his son. but then, a few issues later, bruce refers to his children as his soldiers and that they've all betrayed him, implying that zur has always had control and isn't locked away.

Bruce and Zur get into a fight inside his mind about Robin [Tim Drake], Batman (2016) #127

so yeah, zur is not bruce! they're both batman, but zur en arrh is like his somehow unimaginably even worse twin. if you're interested more in him, i would suggest giving his character history a read! be warned it gets changed A LOT and is definitely not everyone's cup of tea (personally i hate him and need him shelved for another forty years).

now that that's all done and explained, the current state of gotham war is Bruce (thinks he's okay) fighting everyone else (except Damian) because in his (Zur's) point of view, they're all against the mission and therefore are now his enemies (he's lost his mind). totally not convoluted.

to answer your original question, yes, this is all bruce saying and doing these things but he is being HEAVILY influenced by Zur. we can't tell for certain how much of this is bruce and how much is zur, but we can definitely prove zur is partially or completely controlling him again.

even jason points it out after bruce implants that fear toxin chip into him in Batman (2016) #138:

like we can see the intention is to keep jason out of this, because compared to everyone else, jason was the most directly opposed to bruce. but zur is twisting how this concern gets expressed, since forcing jason into feeling fear everytime he gets an adrenaline rush is hardly the reformation bruce is usually encouraging. the other batfam members also talk about how uncharacteristically violent bruce is being.

"He's out of control." / "He's gone [In more ways than one.]" Batman (2016) #137

as the story progresses we see more and more of zur replace bruce, but because he can't have bruce trying to stop him again, zur is playing along and convincing bruce he's locked away. so really, bruce is at war with not only his entire family, but also his own mind. just another average tuesday for batman. he's being tricked and is unknowingly doing exactly what he was trying to prevent.

to understand what the actual war in gotham war is, give the comics listed above a read! if you find the story boring/ridiculous/stupid, don't worry, it is! the social commentary leaves a lot to be desired, as does most of the characters writings (especially selina's).

bruce and his one sided battle with zur is sort of an overarching story happening alongside it (along with a bunch of other ongoings. i don't even understand how detective comics and batman and robin are going to tie into this once it starts up again).

sorry the answer isn't a simple one, but unfortunately nothing is ever simple with bruce. also apologies in advance if any of the future gotham war comics come out and completely debunk all of this! who knows what will happen in this dramatic family drama.

#bruce wayne #gotham war #dc meta #saki anons #saki comic talks #i have such a toxic relationship with this run #i have nothing but complaints and hate for it #but its so terrible i cant wait to see how it all crash and burns #the most “it gets worse before it gets better” storyline for batman i have EVER seen

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violetrainbow412-blog · 7 months

Text

A challenge throughout the month of October where I will be posting a drabble corresponding to a different theme, all written about the wonderful Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds

I hope you enjoy it and comment on what you think. If you want to be added to the taglist, say it below!

My favorites 💟(there are a few, sorry)

DAY 1: FIRST KISS dating!Spencer Reid 💟

DAY 2: LOVE CONFESSION baby!Reid

DAY 3: SICK/INJURY coworker!Reid 💟

DAY 4: RAINY DAY boyfriend!Reid 💟

DAY 5: DANCING TOGETHER coworker!Reid

DAY 6: PLAYING WITH HAIR boyfriend!Reid

DAY 7: SHARING CLOTHES roommate!Reid 💟

DAY 8: KIDFIC/PETFIC husband!Reid and dad!Reid

DAY 9: SHOWERING/BATHING husband!Reid 💟

DAY 10: GIFT GIVING coworker!Reid

DAY 11: MEET CUTE stranger!Reid 💟

DAY 12: COOKING/BAKING TOGETHER boyfriend!Reid

DAY 13: LEARNING A CRAFT best friend!Reid

DAY 14: LOCKED IN/TRAPPED coworker!Reid

DAY 15: MORNING AFTER hungover!Reid 💟

DAY 16: STARGAZING boyfriend!Reid

DAY 17: MASSAGE boyfriend!Reid

DAY 18: PROTECTING coworker!Reid 💟

DAY 19: MOTEL best friend!Reid + siblings energy 💟

DAY 20: READING TOGETHER boyfriend!Reid

DAY 21: PICNIC boyfriend!Reid

DAY 22: APOLOGY FIC post-Tobias!Reid

DAY 23: COFFEE SHOP/BOOK SHOP older!Reid 💟

DAY 24: GAME NIGHT coworker!Reid

DAY 25: LOVE LETTERS husband!Reid and dad!Reid 💟

DAY 26: DRUNKEN CONFESSION best friend!Reid 💟

DAY 27: NIGHTMARES roommate!Reid

DAY 28: PUMPKIN PATCH boyfriend!Reid

DAY 29: CORN MAZE childhood friend!Reid

DAY 30: SCARY MOVIES coworker!Reid

DAY 31: HALLOWEEN COSTUMES boyfriend!Reid

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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subbyalbedo · 8 months

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Kinktober 2023! 👹

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**All fics are DOM READER**

Week 1:

(1) DACRYPHILIA with Giyu Tomioka

(2) FEMINIZATION with Tamaki Amajiki

(3) ORAL FIXATION with Kyojuro Rengoku

(4) ~x~

(5) THIGH RIDING with Zenitsu Agatsuma

(6) RIMMING with Katsuki Bakugo

(7) TEASE with Keigo Takami

Week 2:

(8) SOMNOPHILIA with Hitoshi Shinso

(9) BRAT TAMING with Neito Monoma

(10) EDGING with Sanemi Shinazugawa (Part 1)

(11) DOUBLE PENETRATION x THREESOME with Sanemi and Genya Shinazugawa (Part 2 of Day 10)

(12 - 14) ~x~

Week 3:

(15) IGNORE with Izuku Midoriya

(16) PRAISE with Douma

(17-18) ~x~

(19) MASTERBATION with Kyojuro Rengoku

(20) COCKWARMING with Neito Monoma

(21) OVERSTIMULATION with Shoto Todoroki

Week 4:

(22) ~x~

(23) CAMBOY with Tomura Shigaraki

(24) LACTATION with Eijiro Kirishima

(25-26) ~x~

(27) BREEDING with Zenitsu Agatsuma

(28) CORRUPTION with Tanjiro Kamado pt 1

Week 5:

(29) CORRUPTION with Tanjiro Kamado pt 2

(30) MOMMY KINK + SUB SPACE with Tengen Uzui

(31) A/B/O with Omega!Muzan Kibutsuji (Happy Halloween!!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is my first kinktober so...we'll see how it goes????? Idk what demon possessed me to have a fic for every single day in October but this isn't stressful at all...not one bit *nervous laughter*

I added some breaks because I don't think I'm gonna get all these done in time, and I changed a couple things, but honestly I think I'm doing better than expected for my first kinktober lol.

Fics will come out at 5:00 AM on the day they are set for.

(as things are posted, they will be linked on here).

Enjoy!

(if someone can explain why tf the links are messed up and different colors (???), that would be greatly appreciated...)

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #leonawrites #dom reader #dom reader smut #sub character smut #smut #my hero academia #demon slayer #first kinktober?!?!?!?#idk whats gonna happen #scary #happy halloweeeeeeeen

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smusherina · 24 days

Text

yard work - chapter 5 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): homophobia is still a theme. another dead relative mentioned. smoking cigarettes.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 6

You'd decided to do nothing about Cady's infiltration for now. Or, well, Regina had told you she'd figure it out and given firm instruction to not do anything.

You didn't exactly like that. Then again, you didn't have any better ideas. Obviously, you wanted her to not be around Regina. It was wrong that she was friends with her under the pretence that she was looking for reasons to stab her in the back. Then again, she didn't need reasons. Regina had provided plenty already.

As September dragged along and eventually turned to October, it felt as if day by day your mind split into an exponentially growing number of pieces. Your desire to protect Regina battled with the fact that she had been wrong so many times, had really hurt people. Didn't they deserve some reparation? Didn't Regina deserve forgiveness? Was any of that for you to decide?

You would have to pick a side and make your stance known, eventually. You'd have to plant your feet firmly on the territory you really believed in. Only, you dreaded that you didn't have as much agency as you'd have liked.

Were you weak or strong for always sticking by someone? What would become of you if you didn't stand up for what you thought was right and wrong? Where was the line?

You didn't want to side with Janis and her lackeys. The more you looked at it, the parallel between them—Janis and Regina—started to become obvious. Janis and Regina weren't that different at all.

What did you even want? What could you want? You didn't have answers to those questions.

The weather was getting colder, so you'd shuffled your wardrobe quite a bit. Short-sleeved flannels and tee shirts were replaced by cotton undershirts and grandpa sweaters. Literal grandpa sweaters. You'd gotten the majority of them from your grandfather's closet, which he had left for you in his will. It was a joke you two had shared, that you looked better in his clothes than he did.

Regina certainly didn't think so.

"Those sweaters are fucking ugly." She put it bluntly, chewing on some gum as she surfed channels on your TV. She'd taken to spending a lot of time at yours recently. You guessed it had to do with her dad being home and her friends no longer being trustworthy.

"They were my gramps'." You pouted and slumped onto the couch next to her. Since your first sleepover, the distance between your bodies had gotten smaller each time. Your knees almost touched.

"The emotional baggage makes them even frumpier." She glanced at you before looking back at the TV. "You'd be better off framing them."

"I like them, Reg." You settled back and turned your attention to the screen as well. "I don't tell you what to wear."

"If you did we wouldn't be friends." She quipped, finally settling on just shutting the thing off. "Now, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." You didn't want to talk about it. You doubted you could talk about something like that and both remain calm. You hated shouting. It always made you cry, no matter the situation. You could've been the angriest you'd ever been, not sad at all, and still cry.

"Fine. Be stubborn." She huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm going to Aaron's Halloween Party."

"Are you?" You turned and blinked at her. "Cool, I guess."

"You know how everybody, like, dresses sexy? It's like the whole point of Halloween, yeah? Cady's from Kenya. She doesn't know that. She thinks Halloween's supposed to be scary."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Ugh, for kids it is. We're practically adults. Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it." Regina recited as if from a book. "Karen's words."

"She's very wise, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is." Regina mused.

"You ever told her that?"

"No, she'd get a big head."

"Karen Shetty would get a big head." You said, disbelieving.

"They want what I have so bad," Regina said. "I have to keep them on their toes."

"Are they even your friends? Or do you keep them close to control them?" You sat up straighter, some dots connecting. "Is that why you got Cady to join you? Because she was too pretty to go unchecked?"

"So you think she's pretty." Regina shifted closer, your knees really touching now. You tried to contain your excitement.

"I feel that's pretty obvious." You leaned in also, almost without noticing yourself. She was like a magnet.

"She had potential. If she were to realize it, who knows what she would've gotten up to."

"You made her realize that. That's a self-fulfilling prophecy if I've ever heard one."

"What do you know about prophecies?"

"I know that if I scoped a threat, I wouldn't make them stronger." You licked your lips nervously. "Keeping an eye on her is one thing, but you've made her an enemy."

"Fine, sure, whatever. Now, I'm gonna bring her down. She's gonna humiliate herself by showing up to the party all scary-looking, and then I'm gonna kiss Aaron Samuels." She grinned and blew a bubble. The thin pink of the bubblegum complimented her eyes.

"Why? To make her jealous? Because she wants something you had?"

"To establish dominance."

"I dunno, Reg." You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face. "You're making an enemy."

"It's what I do best, jorts. Just watch." She got up and headed for the kitchen. Hated to see her leave, loved to watch her go.

So, you watched. You watched her hatch her plans, how she deliberately kept Karen from talking to Cady about high school Halloween party etiquette, which seemed like a challenging task indeed, and how her leash on Gretchen tightened to an impossible degree.

You sat alone in the computer room the night of the party, trying to build a profitable amusement park and failing miserably. Your heart wasn't in it. Not even gaming could take your mind off of Regina.

She was probably kissing Aaron Samuels right now. Right now, their lips were sealed together in a nasty French kiss that surely repulsed anybody close enough to hear the slurping and suckling that came from the union. Aaron was probably on her, touching her everywhere he could get his grubby paws, shamelessly licking at the roof of her mouth like a dog.

While the thought of the jock being a bad kisser soothed you somewhat, it didn't cure the clenching in your chest. Fuck, it was stupid that this hurt you. It wasn't even real, she was using him to get to Cady, but the mere thought of them like that made you want to puke.

You watched the chaos unfold the next morning. At lunch, Janis herded you to their table near the back. You were barely listening, too busy glowering in the general direction of the jock table. Cady was officially on board now, you were told. Regina had officially gone too far for her and now their real plans could commence.

"Hey, dude, are you even listening?" Janis punched you on the shoulder. You glared and punched back.

"No. Yes, I- what did you say? Something about Homecoming."

"Yes!" Janis practically hissed, looking a little manic. You looked at Damien, who was eyeing you suspiciously. "We're spraying water on her when she's inevitably crowned Homecoming queen. Cady's also replacing her moisturizer with lard. Can you think of anything?"

What, you were supposed to contribute to bringing Regina down? She was kidding, right? She continued to stare holes in you.

"Uh..." You swallowed. "I'm not really an ideas guy. I can help in other ways?" You squeaked, desperately wanting out of this whole thing.

"Ugh, you're boring." Janis groaned, slumping against Damien.

"Good talk." You said hastily as you got up. "I'm going to smoke a cigarette now." So acutely uncomfortable, you talked like a robot.

"Can you gimme one?" Janis perked up.

"No, she can't." Damien cast a look at Janis. "We agreed, remember? Smoking only at the garage."

You took that opportunity to skedaddle. They bickered like an old married couple. Though there was no romantic chemistry between them, they were obviously a solid duo.

Janis didn't seem so bitter when she was with Damien. Sure, now that they were planning revenge their focus was on Regina, but they often strayed off track. Why couldn't she just let go? She was clearly doing better now.

As you rounded the building and made it across the lawn towards the bleachers, you spotted a couple making out. The boy had the girl pinned to the wall. You were quite far away and you could hear their lips smacking.

You didn't want to look too close, because gross, but the varsity jacket and pink ensemble were hard to ignore.

You gritted your teeth and pulled out the pack of Marlboros you had on hand. Regina and Aaron fucking Samuels. You lit up and inhaled before you were even properly concealed under the bleachers.

God, you were such a hypocrite. If you weren't over what Regina did to you in middle school, then why should she be? She'd had it worse, too. You couldn't even imagine the consequences of something like that.

If people knew you liked girls, it'd be over. Even if it was sort of like an open secret, because nobody ever asked you about boys or stuff like that, to have it confirmed would ruin you beyond repair.

If people knew you liked Regina, it'd be even worse.

"Hey, why're you sulking under there?"

"Regina, I'm not in the mood to talk."

"Uh, grumpy much?"

"Leave me alone."

You leaned your head back against the steel, looking up at Regina as she stood over you. She was in all pink. A pink, fuzzy sweater, white skinnies, and Uggs. You had a blue, old Carhartt jacket, denim jeans and scuffed Converse.

You matched with her way better than Aaron. You could probably kiss better too. Not that you'd had any practice. But you'd at least have the sense to not slobber all over the one you were kissing.

Unless Regina liked sloppy kisses. As if you'd get to find out.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

I like you. I like you too much and it's hard to think. I can't tell wrong from right.

"It's nothing." You took another drag. "Janis and Damien are plotting. It just makes me mad." Not entirely untrue. You were lying by omission, though.

"What kinda plots?"

You hesitated. How could you? "Nothing concrete yet." Now you were really lying. It sunk like a stone down your gullet, hitting your heart on the way down, and dropped heavily into your stomach. It nearly punched a hole clean through.

"Keep me updated." She lingered and you kept looking at her. What would she look like as Homecoming queen, soaked down to her bones up on a stage? What would she look like after smearing lard on her face?

Not ethereal in the sunlight like this, probably. Though you reckoned ruined mascara and pimples wouldn't do anything to shake off this stupid crush.

"For sure." You just nodded and looked down. You couldn't keep your eyes on her when guilt gnawed at your insides.

"Can I have one?" She hopped over your legs and sat down on the grass next to you.

"A cigarette?" You baulked. "A cigarette for Regina George?"

"Yes, you doof." She laughed and reached for your pockets. "Where's the pack?" She kept patting down your body. Your heart sped up, your palms sweated, and a stupid grin split your face.

"Only one." You turned your face as stern as you could make it. "I'm not ruining your beautiful singing voice."

"You think my voice is beautiful?" When she asked questions like that and looked so small waiting for your answer, you didn't quite know what to do with yourself.

"Yeah," You breathed, sounding a little too sincere, too reverent. "You sang at the talent show in middle school that one year. I think it was a Celine Dion song? Captivating."

"That was so embarrassing. I had such shit breath control." She rested her hand on your thigh, casually, and the other behind your back. Your faces were so close. "C'mon, jorts. Now."

"Nobody complained. Everybody loved it." You reached into your pocket and handed her a cig. She put it between her lips and looked at you expectantly.

If you'd been feeling bold, you would've touched the tip of your lit one to hers. Yours was more than halfway done, so you'd have gotten real close. Maybe in your dreams.

You flicked the lighter to life and held the fire for her. "Suck. Yup, you got it."

She inhaled and let the smoke out of her mouth. You took a drag to keep from laughing. "When you've got the smoke in your mouth, inhale it."

She did as you told and started coughing violently. This time, you couldn't keep the laughter in. She shoved you and you laughed harder.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69

(if you want to be added to the taglist, reply to this post :))

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls 2004 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #lesbian regina george #mean girls x reader #wlw #wlw yearning #no use of y/n #fic: yard work

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stevie-petey · 4 months

Text

episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him. “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual. It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this english essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wtlws #m's writing #steve: and i took that personally #reader: :(#bless them

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mcyt-halloween · 8 months

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Welcome to a new mcytbIr event!

Hello! Do you love secret Santas and love Halloween? Well, then this is the event for you.

This event is open to all mcyt groups: DSMP, Hermitcraft, QSMP, anything!

Here is the link to sign up. more information will be under the cut!

Rules:

• DMS OPEN (check if you can DM me from one of your blogs, if you can’t, then you CANNOT participate)

• Follow the dates below

• @ your recipient, this blog, and tag #mcyt-halloween when you post your gift according to the dates.

• Nothing NSFW

Dates:

• September 23, Form submissions close

• September 30st, All recipient's submissions go out to their givers

• October 27th, Posting gifts opens

• October 31st, Deadline for posting (if you have not received your gift by then, please contact me)

Gift options:

• Drawing (Finished)

• Writing (1k+)

• Stimboard/moodboard (2+ sets)

• Web weaving (10+ images)

• Playlist (1+ hour)

If at any point, you think you may not be able to complete your assignment on time, please contact me so I can find a gifter to replace you asap. DM me if there are ANY issues at all.

#mcyt #dsmp #qsmp #gift exchange #halloween #rats smp #origins smp #new life smp #empires smp #karmaland #hermitcraft

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obsessedfics · 5 months

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Soft Rain: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit) Part 2

I want to first say I usually try to find a photo that fits the aesthetic of the story but this one was way too good to walk away from. Everyone enjoys this gem <3. Also, this fic because it's too damn long is split up into two parts. Part 1 is already up and is linked here. Highly recommend reading it first before this one so you don't get confused.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Rating:Mature/Explicit (Sexual scenes)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Summary: You are in a coffee shop one rainy day when a sad beautiful stranger enters. Slowly, you open up to each other in the warm confinement of the cafe. Little did you know that you would fall in love with this man, and he with you.

I wrote this from the perspective of seeing Satoru with his barriers down. No masks, no facades, just him when he's alone with his haunting thoughts. I wanted to give him a more human perspective and touch on some of the things that plague his mind. I know I have been MIA for quite some time, if you were someone who was waiting for this I am sorry! Life has been a rollercoaster recently but I am finally back to being in a place of stability. This is certainly a longer fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. As always feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Word Count: 25k+

October: Halloween, Shibuya

I know it’s Halloween, but does there have to be so many people outside?!

You began pushing your way through the crowds of people, ignoring the press of anxiety in your chest. All you needed to do was make it to the train station so you could go home, but it seemed as you got closer to the Shibuya Hikarie Building the throng of bodies got tighter.

Ugh, maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.

With a huff of air passing your lips, you make to turn around, but you hear something strange through your headphones.

Doubting yourself, you pull out one bud.

“ Bring Satoru Gojo. ”

Satoru… Gojo?

People chanted these words over and over again, stretching down to the train tracks.

What the fuck is going on?

Swallowing your anxiety, you begin pushing your way inside the building. The clusters of bodies became thicker. Their skin brushed yours as you continued to the center. You ignored the foreign touch, pushing your intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind.

Is it who I think it is? Or am I just being delusional?

Once inside, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

There he was, hands in his pockets, hovering right in the middle of the building, staring straight down to the train tracks.

“I can fly!”

Your eyes widened. Running to the edge while elbowing through sweaty bodies. You needed to be closer; to confirm what you are seeing.

Is it him? Am I hallucinating right now?

As soon as you’re at the edge, you call out his name, but the crowd drowns out your voice. You shout as loud as you can, but you might as well be whispering. The crowd's anxious chatter washes out your voice, rendering your desperate shouts useless.

Then he descends to the basement, a murderous aura following in his wake.

An article from 2006 pops into your head.

Satoru Gojo, head of the Gojo Clan, pinnacle of the Jujutsu world.

Without a second thought, you break out in a sprint to the stairs. People stare at you in confusion, but you ignore them, shoving your way through their bodies. His words play in your mind, puzzle pieces falling into place.

“I am the strongest sorcerer of this generation.” “…my role is incredibly isolating.”

Something is wrong.

You run, taking two steps at a time, hand ghosting over the railing for support. You knew you were useless, and if he was in any trouble you wouldn’t be able to do anything. But you also couldn’t do nothing . Not when he was right in front of you, not when you spent weeks thinking about him.

He lingered on your heart like a tattoo – permanent and painfully hard to get rid of. If you loved him, you didn’t know. But you do know your soul yearns to be with him.

Please be safe. I don’t give a shit how strong you are, don’t be stupid.

Bursting through the doors of the basement floor, you’re met with a sea of bodies. You couldn’t see anything other than people dressed in Halloween costumes for miles.

Cursing inwardly, you push past them, elbows out to your sides. Their bodies brush your skin, and you ignore your itching flesh. The only thing on your mind was getting to him, was seeing him.

Sweat coated you from head to toe, you could hear a commotion up ahead, but you were still too far away.

Your heart raced against your chest so hard, you were afraid it was going to burst. Faint screams filled your ears, but you ignored them. It was like you were possessed, the burn in your legs didn’t matter, the thin air in your lungs didn’t bother you, you just wanted him.

People started pushing their way into the tracks as the screams became clearer and clearer. Then suddenly, they stopped.

Dead silence rang out.

Huh?

Bodies stop moving in an instant, but you don’t. You see Satoru move at a blinding speed. Blood splatters all around you, coating your skin in its warm, sticky substance. You don’t even have time to process anything. The world seems to be fast-forwarded, and you can’t comprehend the sight before you.

Then the area clears.

He stops, breath heavy with blood on his cheek as he takes in the carnage along with a small box in front of him.

“Satoru–”

“Gate open,”

The cube box opens, revealing its fleshy body with an eye that stares right at Satoru. He makes to move away but a man with long black hair and a stitched scar across his head steps into view, calling out warmly to him.

You watch as Satoru freezes, disbelief in his wide blue eyes.

He asks the theatrically dressed man who he is, anger and confusion dancing in his tone.

The moment the answer leaves the black-haired male's mouth, all air evaporates. The eye sticks to Satoru’s body, rendering him helpless.

Suguru Geto?

Satoru’s words flash in your mind.

“I haven’t talked to anyone about Suguru since it happened…” “No, but you could see it that way. He… Was like the other half of me. Someone I could trust. I knew with him, I could let go and be myself. I could breathe…” “He’s dead. It’s been a year,”

There’s no way. This is fucked. I need to do something, maybe a distraction–

Satoru’s eyes flash to you, only meeting yours for a second, but he makes it count by mouthing:

RUN.

You stagger back a step, foot catching on the rail as Satoru starts shouting at the other male – his dead best friend, asking who he is.

Turning around, you move your leadened legs, each step feeling as if you were pulling a freight train.

“My six eyes tell me… That you’re Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The anger and pain in his voice was so guttural, that it rattled your soul.

What the fuck is going on?!

You cry silently, forcing your body to run away, even though everything in you told you to turn around. You knew you’d die if you did, so you kept moving through the tears.

Dead deformed bodies were littered all around you with blood staining the tracks red. You had to force your eyes to the sky, afraid you’d vomit.

He’s only subdued, sealed. Not dead. Not dead.

Despite yourself, you return your eyes to the floor to search the dead bodies' faces, fearful that one of them will be his.

You were panting when you reached the stairs, but you continued pressing on, only repeating one thing to yourself;

Not dead.

—

Shibuya was pandemonium.

People, who you assumed were curse users, are fighting everywhere. You couldn’t see what exactly they were fighting, but you could feel it. The wrongness.

Your mind was racing, you didn’t know what to do. Anxiety and bile crawled up your throat, as your body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your legs were numb and your heart was beating erratically.

I need to get out of here.

Eyes scanning your surroundings, you move, aiming for downtown, away from the central fighting point. But when the edge becomes clearer, you see that people are frantically pressing against an invisible wall.

A barrier of some sort–

“NANAMIIIII!”

This name is being shouted from the top of a tall building seemingly in the middle of the sector.

Whoever is yelling has some lungs on them… I can’t get distracted, I have to move.

Panic began bubbling up in your chest you ran as fast as you could, ducking into a small department store, immediately pulling down the metal guard gate and locking it.

You pressed your back to the glass doors, head tilted to the ceiling, breaths heavy and uneven.

Am I going to die here?

You look down at your body.

Blood covered you, staining your khakis and shirt. It clung to your skin and matted your hair. The feeling is disgustingly sticky and the smell of iron assaults your senses, nearly making you gag.

Moving away from the doors, you explore the department store while your body shakes. You needed to move, otherwise countless strangers' dead faces would flash in your mind, making your only thought about their mixed blood covering you.

It seemed as if you were the only person in the building, so you located the seat behind the front desk and sat down.

So many people died, and Satoru… He’s in a box.

You felt so incredibly numb.

You came to Shibuya to buy a few things from your favorite thrift store, but then this happened. Nothing made sense and you couldn’t wrap your head around why so many people passed out and you didn’t.

Leaning back in your chair, you loosed a shuddering breath.

“What the fuck.”

Then the world shook.

—

Megumi was on duty for the evacuation team after the Shibuya Incident. Gojo was sentenced to death and so was Principal Yaga, along with the reinstatement of Yuji’s execution.

This is troublesome.

He entered a department store on the edge of town, fully expecting no one to be present due to having to break the locked gate.

“Hello, is anyone here?” He calls out, voice tired and raw from the night prior. His eyes disinterestedly scan the aisles, until something moves.

A woman, covered in dried blood from head to toe, steps out behind an aisle, hammer poised to attack him. Immediately he puts up his hands, summoning his cursed technique for protection.

“I am not here to hurt you, just here to help you out of the disaster area,” Megumi spoke slowly, but the woman only tightened her hands around the handle of the weapon.

“The name Satoru Gojo, what does it mean to you?” Her voice, soft and calm, asks him. There was no edge to it, despite the murderous intent of her body language.

“He’s my teacher.”

What is wrong with this lady? Is she asking because she was forced to ask for him last night? But all that blood… There’s no way she was at the tracks, she wouldn’t be here if she were.

The woman nodded once, then set down the hammer, approaching him with caution.

“I am… I know him, in a way.”

Oh no, not another one.

“Last night, I followed him down to the basement. I am a normal person, so if he was fighting curses, I don’t know. But I saw him get put in this ancient box covered with eyes. The person who did it is Suguru Geto, but… I think someone is inhabiting his body. That’s all I know, I hope it helps.”

The woman spoke clearly without any fear, but Megumi only became more confused.

“There’s no way you would be here though. We’re still removing the unconscious bodies of civilians from the station. Why were you not affected?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know, don’t ask me. The rest of Japan, is it safe?”

The way she spoke caught him off guard. So matter-of-fact and clear, but her body shook. Clearly, she was disturbed but trying not to show it.

She’s not a sorcerer, but she knows about Gojo’s significance. Were they close? Did he tell her everything?

Megumi tried to remember if his teacher mentioned any non-sorcerer woman he was interested in, but nothing came to mind.

“For now, but the situation is unstable. There’s no telling what’s going to happen with that guy gone. We’re going to do everything we can to save him, but I am not sure if it’s possible.” He spoke honestly and the woman nodded, grabbing a piece of paper and writing something down on it.

“This is my number. I’ll do my independent research. In a week, call me and we’ll check bases.”

With that, she gave him a warm smile and left.

Who is she?

November:19 Days After the Incident

You were sitting on your couch, petting Noir anxiously when you got the call.

Did it work?

Sliding the green answer button, you shakily pressed the device to your ear.

“Miss L/N? This is Yuji Itadori. He’s free.”

Thank god.

“Thank you.”

The weight on your shoulders lifted and the anxiousness died.

Not dead.

“I’ll let him know you helped us.”

“Don’t worry about it, he’s out. That’s all that matters. Be safe.”

Hanging up the phone, you press your nose into Noir’s fur. Her soft warmth seeped into your chest as her purs tickled your skin, relaxing you.

You cry softly, hugging her body close to yours. Knowing that this changed nothing, he still had so many painful troubles. But he is free, he is alive , and that’s all that matters to you.

Regardless of what your place in his world is.

—

“You said a civilian helped you guys expedite my release?”

Is she safe? Was I distracting enough for them not to notice her presence?

“Yes. Fushiguro found her and she relayed what she saw on the tracks during your fight.” Yuji explained brightly, even though his friend was now Sukuna’s vessel.

There’s no way anyone saw what happened. No one except…

He shot out of his seat, surprising Yuji.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s Miss L/N? She said she knows you.”

Satoru scrunched his brows.

She never told me her last name.

“Her first name, what is it?”

Yuji looked at him as if he lost it but he didn’t care.

“Y/n, I think?”

He was already moving.

“Eh? Where are you going?!”

“I’ll be back!”

—

Rain fell heavily from the gray sky, but not a drop touched him.

She’s dead. You killed her, just like you did to Suguru. Your strength is a curse – not a gift. You’re cursed to be alone.

I am not my past. It does not define me.

Running as fast as he could, he ignored the thoughts invading his mind, pushing them away with her shared mantra. Images of her body, bloodied and disfigured threatened his vision, but he blinked it away; refusing to let his fear control him.

Soon he reached the familiar home that is tucked away from the noise of the city – a sanctuary. He hesitated, the familiar feeling of dread washing over him, making his legs leadened.

Confirm her safety then leave.

Taking a deep breath in, he forced himself to move, mentally putting in the effort to place one foot in front of the other, until he reached the door.

Satoru raised a shaky hand and knocked, but there was no answer.

Fear crawled up his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Please.

Swallowing his dry saliva, he twisted the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked.

He closed his eyes and held his breath. If she wasn’t here, he would search all of Japan until he found her.

He had until December…

Stepping inside the house, the familiar scent of her flooded his senses, making his legs feel hollow.

Be here, be safe .

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

There she was as if nothing happened.

She had fallen asleep on the couch, the soft glow of golden lights kissing her skin as Noir curled against her body. They looked peaceful enough to make him sigh in relief.

However, when he stepped closer, he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks.

That peaceful image shattered.

Satoru moved closer, not trusting his eyes to tell him the truth.

Noir woke first, big blue eyes recognizing him as she moved out of her owner's arms, careful to not wake her. The feline came up to him, nudging his shaking legs as if telling him to go to her.

Why are you crying?

Holding his breath, he approached her sleeping figure. Anxiety swirled in his chest as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

Should I turn around now? You’d be happier without me, right?

Noir nudged him again, pulling him from his thoughts.

Biting his inner cheek, he crouched down so he was now eye level with her body. For a moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight in front of him.

Soft even breaths kissed his cheeks and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. It deafened his thoughts, replacing them with overwhelming relief.

She’s alive. This isn’t a dream.

“Y/n,” he called and she stirred.

Satoru watched as she blinked away her sleep, eyes adjusting to her surroundings, confusion on her face until finally she looked his way.

Her lovely eyes met his, soft and kind – the eyes that made him feel seen .

“Satoru?” she breathed, taking his face in her hands, eyes searching his as if confirming he was real.

You’re alive. They seemed to whisper, relief swimming in her irises.

He nodded, wrapping his hands around her wrists, and leaning into her warmth. His blood sang from the contact, tension ebbing out of his body.

Her presence alone was enough to calm his soul.

“You followed me, even though you knew it was dangerous.”

He wasn’t sure if was breathing. His eyes scanned every inch of her body, checking for injury, any sign of pain, thankfully finding nothing. But it didn’t quell the anxiety in his chest. The uneasiness still pressed at his throat, stealing his breath, making it hard for him to think let alone speak.

His only worry when he was in the damned box was that she was alive. That she wasn’t split apart into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. Ash consumed by Sukuna's fire, or buried under the rubble, or worse…

The woman smiled sadly as if she could read his every thought. Sitting up so she could fully face him, she gently rubbed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks – an attempt to soothe him. He let himself fall to his knees, strength leaving his body. Her hair softly fell in a curtain around them as lightly calloused fingers played with the tips of his ears anxiously.

Running his thumbs along the soft skin of her wrists, he took in her features. The serene allure was still there, but it was now mixed with something else – and it was far more beautiful. It’s something that existed only when she looked at him.

“How could I not when you were all I could think about?” her answer finally came, cutting through the silence.

She traced his face in wonder and he shuddered under her touch.

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, fingers digging into the flesh of her wrists.

He’s seen people he’s cared about die. He killed his only best friend with his bare hands. However, it was different with her. All those people knew that they could die with every mission. But this woman, who had eyes that whispered soft serenity, and a smile that made his heart melt, if she died – he didn’t know if he could come back from it.

“I know.” her words, a broken croak, pulled at his deep-rooted fear.

He saw his reflection in her eyes. He looked like a desperate man praying to his God; wonder, awe, and disbelief tracing his features.

“I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

Satoru hated those words. Admitting that he was helpless, noticing her presence too late to save her from the sight of countless dead bodies. He let himself get consumed by his emotions, by the thrill of a good fight, to the point it rendered him useless.

I’m useless. She could’ve died, and it would’ve been all my fault. It would have happened all over aga–

With fingers sinking into his skin, she forced him to meet her glass eyes.

“But you did, Satoru. I got away. I am alive because of you.”

What?

“While you were powerless, you saved me.”

His eyes widened as her tears flowed down her cheeks onto his. Wet rain kissing his flesh, just like when they met.

“I… Saved you? I don’t understand, I only told you to run.”

She shook her head, taking his hand and placing it over her beating heart. Her warmth, raw and real beneath his fingertips, chased away his fear. With each beat of the muscle grounding him to reality, to her.

Alive, breathing, real.

“I was frozen. If you hadn’t told me to run, I would’ve rushed to your side out of desperation. You saved me.”

Her fingers tangled into his hair. The pads of her fingertips lovingly pressed into his scalp, easing his anxiety.

“You. Saved. Me.”

“When it mattered the most, I was unable to save those who I deeply cared for.”

I saved her?

The truth of her words clanged in his chest, stitching an old wound on his heart, stealing his breath away.

Blinking, he met her eyes fully.

Run away. His mind whispered.

Let go of your fear. His heart screamed.

And like a man possessed, he grabbed her face, closing the gap between their bodies.

Desperately, he pressed his lips to hers. Salty tears coated his tongue and her hands fisted into his hair. The soft, warm press of her lips against his drove him mad, making him grab her body, pulling her closer to him. She fell to his lap, legs lightly wrapping around his waist as he deepened the kiss. He allowed his fingers to tangle in the strands of her silken hair, tongue pushing past her lips, drowning in everything that is her .

Soft rose and sandalwood flooded his nose, the taste of bitter-sweet coffee caressed his mouth, muffled moans teased his ears, as her warmth, tranquil and serene, eased his body. Her tears continued to coat their flesh, and he was sure he was crying, too.

For the first time in years, his heart felt light. At this moment, in her arms, he is just Satoru Gojo, nothing else.

It was then, it hit him.

Pulling away from her, he breathed heavily. Saliva coated her swollen lips as she stared into him with eyes hazy and half-lidded. Soft, uneven breaths heated his skin as he ran his thumbs along the flesh of her cheeks.

“I love you,” his voice came out as a quivering whisper. Because he knew this changed nothing between them.

Foreign tears fell from his eyes, pooling at his chin. Y/n only smiled softly, thumbs lovingly wiping away his tears as he did the same to hers.

“How long do we have?”

Sweet lips kissed away his pain, cracking his heart.

“The end of December,”

He traced her features, warm rain coating his skin as he began committing every detail of her to memory.

A small whimper left her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, still pressing soothing kisses to his heated cheeks.

Allowing that last iron barrier around his heart to crumble, he buried his face into her neck, arms enclosing her torso, hugging her like a child. He cried into her, clinging onto her small body desperately as years of bottled-up emotions began washing over him.

After Suguru, he never let anyone in, convinced that his strength would always push people away. That he would always be envied, seen as the strongest, never as himself. He drew a line without even knowing it. There was him, and there was everyone else. The touch of others had become so foreign to him, that he forgot what it was like to be embraced – to be loved without expectations.

Here he was, in the arms of a woman who saw the ugliness of his world, the truth of his power, and still looked at him with the same amount of kindness that she did the first day they met. She didn’t falter or become enamored with him. Instead, she just saw him and accepted it without hesitation.

She disregarded her well-being and did everything in her power to help him. The woman, who couldn’t stand the touch of others, pushed her way through hundreds of people for a chance to save him. It wasn’t to gain anything from him, it was purely to ensure he was alive, so her restless soul could be calmed. She didn’t broadcast her efforts, instead, she cried, silently and alone, relieved by the sole fact he was breathing.

That’s all she wanted from him; she wanted him to live .

“Thank you,” he croaked, words incoherent and muffled against her soft flesh.

One hand rubbed his back, as her other stroked his hair. She pressed light kisses to his temple, whispering comforting safety. He wasn’t breathing, his breaths came out in heaves as his chest felt like it was caving in. He became putty in her hands, molding his body to her, needing all barriers between them to cease to exist.

Overwhelming complex emotions continued rushing through him; relief, regret, jubilance, despondence, hope, fear, love…

He allowed these emotions to spill out of him, knowing that he was safe. He knew that with her, it was okay to be human.

To be normal .

—

Satoru’s body, for all its power, trembles beneath your fingertips. He’s on his knees, silently crying into your arms as you soothe his mind.

“It’s okay.”

Soft whispers against his skin as your lips pepper his temple.

Your tears, though feeling like an endless well, slowly stop as his scent comforts you. Fresh summer rain, bright and soothing, coaxes your soul; calming your heart.

I love you.

His broken confession swirled in your mind, making your heart sing in both joy and despair. You wanted to return his feelings, but they got stuck in your throat, refusing to spill from your lips.

Taking his face in your hands, you met his beautiful eyes. Like the clearest sapphires, they peered at you, almost sparkling as his tears coated his long eyelashes.

Ever-so-gently, you wipe away his pain. He smiled sadly at you, turning his cheek to kiss your palm.

“I need you to listen to me,” you whisper and he nods, hands finding your waist, rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your shirt.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself breathe, focusing solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers and the feeling of his blush-kissed cheeks in your palms.

Taking a deep breath in, you open your eyes, finding your resolve.

“I am not delusional enough to think that I could ever live comfortably in your world. I am also not clueless. I know whatever is going on, you play an important enough role in it that they tried to take you out of the fight.”

His eyes searched yours as you tried to formulate a sentence under his raw, naked gaze.

“But?”

It’s really unfair how beautiful you are.

Inhaling sharply you continue.

“But, I would also be stupid to let you go. I don’t care if it’s selfish, and whatever time I am granted to be with you, so be it…”

Pausing, you place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat – reminding yourself that he is alive. That this is real.

You’re alive. I won’t let you walk away a second time.

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it. And you can try to hide behind the strong nonchalant exterior, but I see right through it. I see you, Satoru. I accept you, invisible scars and all. Let’s heal our hearts together.”

Satoru smiled. A real smile. One that is unpracticed, and it is just for you.

“I could get hurt, you know that don’t you?” some confidence returned to his wavering voice as his hands slowly traveled up your waist, distracting you from his words.

“Of course. But if I can handle watching you get put into a fleshy eyeball box by the source of your trauma, I can handle you getting hurt.”

Scoffing lightly, you run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back from his face, fully taking in his lovely features.

“What if I lose my ability to walk?” he asks sweetly, nuzzling his nose against yours as his hands travel to your bare arms. They ghost over your skin, causing goosebumps to follow in his wake.

“Apparently, you can fly. I suppose if you’re too lazy I can push you around in a wheelchair.”

You run your hands along the length of his chest to his shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath the fitted black t-shirt.

“Hmm, and what if my handsome face gets ruined?” the man mused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You were wearing a shirt, but the contact made you jump. You felt him chuckle against you as his hands found your back, fingers dancing up your spine.

“Well, I recall you telling me that you got stabbed square in that pretty face of yours. As it turns out, you’re still very handsome. So while I think the likelihood of someone harming you to the point you are forever maimed is low, I will still love you regardless.”

Running your hands down the length of his arms, you watched as your words settled over him. Then realization sparkled in his eyes as he searched your face for answers, almost as if he didn’t believe the words he just heard.

“Sorry, could you repeat that last part for me? I was a bit distracted.”

Familiar playfulness kissed his tone as his hands cupped your neck, forcing you to hold his stare.

“Which part? The one where I said I think someone scarring you is not very likely?” batting your eyelashes innocently, you smile.

“No no, the good part. Where you said you’re in love with me.”

One hand came to caress your cheek. Long fingers tangled themselves into the strands of your hair, tickling your scalp as your pores drank in his warmth.

“Hm, did I say that? I don’t think that’s what I said.” making a show of biting your bottom lip, you looked elsewhere, pretending to think.

Satoru’s thumb tugged your bottom lip from your teeth, causing you to quickly snap your eyes to his. His lips are pursed into a soft pout as he looks at you expectantly.

“Just once, let me hear you say it.” his words are a soft plea as his fingers dug further into your skin.

Not fair.

Smiling, you bring your knees to the carpet, raising your body so you can take his face in your hands. You feel him shudder under your touch as his eyes never leave yours, desperation consuming his features.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.”

With those words, the last dark wisp of fear that clutched your heart disappeared in his light.

His lips met yours, hard and fast, all desperation pressing into your body. Your surprised gasp gets swallowed by him as his tongue reclaimed your mouth, filling you with the taste of him; sweet with the undertone of green tea.

His tongue danced with yours, swirling and teasing, relaxing you further into the intoxicating taunt of his muscle. Warm, calloused hands pressed into your cheeks, angling your head so he could further capture your lips. His kiss is passionate and smooth, making your stomach flutter with butterflies as anticipation travels down your spine.

Satoru pulls your tongue deeper into his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You gasp lightly, taking his upper lip between your teeth, slowly running them down the plump skin. He lets out a heavy sigh, and you take the opportunity to return his gift, sucking diligently on his swollen muscle.

Feeling him smile into the kiss, he runs his hands down your arms, to your waist, making you shiver. Fire slowly starts to coat your veins, turning the kiss hungrier – there was a need that wasn’t there previously.

The tips of his fingers dipped under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your back. The light touch made you whimper, body tingling where he made contact with your flesh.

Losing yourself in him, you take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting playfully as you run your hands over his muscled chest. The feeling of him, perfectly soft and firm, beneath your fingers felt heavenly. Satoru let a satisfied groan escape his lips, which you hungrily swallowed, kissing him harder.

Desire replaced innocence as you sank your hips, pleased to find his hardened length brushing your growing need. Satoru sharply bit your lower lip, a shaky breath escaping him as you let your full weight settle on him, enjoying the slightest bit of release it gave you.

Pulling away from the lull of his lips, you meet his heated stare. You both were breathing heavily and Satoru looked too good.

His eyes, though normally bright and alive with brilliant blue, were nearly black due to his dilated pupils. They gazed at you, hazy and half-lidded as his eyelashes fluttered softly against his deeply flushed cheeks. His lips are red and swollen, glistening with your mixed saliva.

The sight alone made your core throb, sending a delicious chill throughout your body.

Satoru removed his hand from your waist to grip your face, squeezing lightly as his thumb traced your lower lip. The way he was looking at you made your knees weak. No man had ever looked at you this way. Not only was it blatant desire, but there was a predatory feel to it, with the undertone of unwavering need .

“If you keep kissing me like that, I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, voice low and gravelly. The words traveled straight to the apex of your thighs as he pressed his thumb harder against your swollen lip.

“Who said I want you to stop?”

Holding his stare, you take that thumb between your lips, pressing your teeth down on the pad, swirling your tongue on the bit of flesh. Satoru inhales sharply as the hand holding your waist tightens – a clear attempt to control himself.

You see your reflection in his eyes, the same primal desire looks back at you.

“Are you sure?” though he asks, his hand is already moving to the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to confirm what he already knows.

“You getting cold feet?” you tease, dipping your hand between your bodies, ghosting your fingers over his abdomen.

You were itching to touch him, to taste him, but you were also going to have fun.

He smirks, slipping his fingers under your shirt, and swirling a gentle finger around your navel. The feeling makes your muscles jerk as fire trails where he touches you. You refuse to let any of that show, only returning his smirk, dragging a nail over his muscled stomach, and taking his tiny little black shirt with you.

“With you,” he pauses, voice a hushed whisper while he splays his palm flat on your stomach, fingertips just barely pressing under the lining of your bra.

“I would never. Besides ,” dragging out the last word dangerously slow, he pushes his length up into you, placing the hand that held your face on the back of your thigh, making you moan. The quick relief jolts through you, but disappears quickly, leaving you wanting more.

Bringing his lips so close to your ear that his hot breath tickles your skin, he whispers,

“ You’re the one who’s trembling. ”

Cocky bastard.

Smiling, you slowly run your lips over the expanse of his neck, lightly licking it with the very tip of your tongue. You feel him shudder beneath you as he breathes heavily in your ear. Licking the shell of his ear, you take the lobe between your teeth as you wrap your hand around the hem of his shirt.

“Hm, I must be cold. Why don’t you warm me up ?”

Giving your ear an appreciative nip, Satoru sighs satisfactorily. The deep sound traveled south, making you place your lips to his neck to hide your noise.

“ Gladly .”

He began pressing slow, hot, wet kisses to the supple flesh of your neck. He trailed his way down to your collarbone as his hands, re-finding the hem of your shirt, tugged at the fabric playfully. The tips of his soft hair tickled your cheek, heightening your sensitivity to his touch.

“You know,” his words are a soft murmur against your skin, but you catch them, humming in response as you run your fingers over the dips of his well-sculpted back.

“I read that the fastest way to warm the body up is when two people are naked. Why don’t we test it out, hm?”

Pressing a kiss between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you smile into his skin.

“I could learn a survival tactic,”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you press another kiss to his neck.

“Or two,”

Licking your way to his ear, you whisper.

“ Or three. ”

At your words, Satoru swiftly captures your lips as his hands go to grip the backs of your thighs. Before you knew it he was on his feet, kissing you feverishly while making his way to your room. He shuts the door with one foot, making you laugh against his lips.

Your body comes in contact with your mattress, but you hardly register it as Satoru grinds his erection into you, greedily swallowing the moan he stole from your throat. Your hands find the hem of his shirt, and you tug as your signal. Satoru groans into you, but pulls back at your command, removing his hungry lips to allow you to expose him.

“This is too tiny, I think I should remove it, don’t you?”

Satoru held your smile, spreading his arms wide as you came up to your knees, pulling the thin fabric off his body, revealing the masterpiece beneath.

Sinewy muscle covered the entire length of his torso. His skin, pale and kissed a soft pink, covered various dips and ripples that you wanted to rake your nails down. You drank him in, from the power of his biceps to the dip of his defined adonis belt, mouth growing dry as you thought about what lurks beneath his concealing white pants.

Selfishly, you ran your hands along his body. Starting from his chest you worked your way down to his navel, relishing in the warm feeling of his soft, smooth skin. Satoru tilted his head back, sighing as you continued to marvel at his beauty, tracing every outline of his hard work, memorizing each detail of him as he trembled beneath your touch.

“You really are like a painting, you know,” you murmur in awe and wonder.

It baffled you that you could even remotely hold this man’s interest, let alone be the one on the receiving end of his love. The thought made your heart squeeze, encouraging you to place a kiss to his bare chest, right above his pounding heart.

His hand ran down the length of your hair, as his other came to cup your face. He lovingly stared into your eyes, all the desire of earlier there, but they now gazed at you softly.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

The sincerity of his words makes you smile like an idiot. You bury your face in his chest, listening to the sound of his low laugh. Lovely butterflies tickle your stomach as you lace your hands around his neck.

Slowly, he makes you meet his eyes. You’re both grinning like children, but he had a devilish hint to his.

“Why hide that smile from me?” pouting, he brings his face close to yours, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Laughing lightly while leaning into his sweet gesture, you nuzzle your nose into his soft hair.

“Because you make me happy.” the answer is honest and you press a kiss on his head.

He hums into you as his hands find your shirt, playfully pulling it up to your neck, but not over your head. He blocks the fabric from leaving your skin as he trails feather-light kisses along your jaw.

“Do I? Why’s that?”

His words are soft against your skin, tickling you, making it hard to think.

“I–”

Pulling back from his lips, you meet his eyes.

“I used to think that people who fell in love quickly were idiots blinded by rose-colored glasses.” biting your lip, you consider if you should continue. Satoru catches your hesitation and lightly rubs your lower back, silently encouraging you.

Let go of your fear.

“But now I know, there is never a ‘right time’ to fall in love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single moment. You make me happy because you could’ve had anyone else in this world, and you chose me. The average girl who you met in a coffee shop on a rainy day. You make me feel seen Satoru. I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Satoru smiles, bright and alive. His hands come up to your cheeks, cupping them gently as he holds your gaze.

“Before you, I was convinced that I would live my life alone. That I would never find someone who would ever make me feel whole again. But… You are my sunlight, which I stand in, warmed and seen.”

With your heart feeling like it’s going to burst out of your chest, you press your lips to his.

“You see me so poetically,” those words, which he had once said to you, leave your lips in a soft murmur.

His laugh tickles your lips as he lightly shakes his head, thumbs rubbing your heated cheeks. Satoru deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping past your barriers, sweetly dancing with your own. You melt into him, leaving every worry behind you.

Slowly, he guides your body to the mattress. You feel his warm stomach press against yours as he settles himself between your clothed hips. He doesn’t do anything except kiss you.

It’s a slow, passionate kiss. One full of love and appreciation, conveying emotions that words fail to capture. Your whole body felt alive, attuned with every breath, moving with each rise and fall of his chest, reacting flawlessly to the press of his lips. Your blood sang, electrified by his touch, eager to desperately drink him in.

Satoru’s hands move from your face to the crumpled fabric of your shirt, removing his lips from yours momentarily to rid your neck of the cloth. The music of the kiss changes – now singing a more sensuous tune.

You feel his thick member throb against your thigh as his hands run down the lengths of your arms, fingers enclosing your wrists. He moves his lips from yours to your cheek, kissing his way to your sensitive ear. Then he licks behind the shell, making you audibly gasp as he brings your hands over your head, holding them down with one hand as his other trails the side of your waist.

Shivering beneath his explorative touch, you clench and unclench your hands, trying to ground yourself to reality. With each brush of his fingers, your muscles flinch, pure excitement and anticipation coursing through your touch-starved veins.

“You’re so responsive~” he coos hotly into your ear. You shift under him, hoping to find relief in the friction, but he removes his lower body from yours. The movement makes you pout, but it opens the space for his hand to ghost over your bare stomach.

Wet lips kiss their way down your neck down to the length of your collarbone. You bite your lower lip when he runs his teeth lightly against the bone. Your body jumps at the new feeling, earning yourself his chuckle as his hand dips under the band of your bra, brushing your left breast ever-so-lightly.

Long fingers slowly make their way behind your back, easily unclasping the concealing material to only partially remove it from your breasts. He pushes the fabric up to your chest as his lips trail your sternum. His hair brushes against your breasts, and you clench your hands, nails biting into the flesh of your palms. The sensation not only tickles you, but it shocks your hyper-sensitive nerves.

You meet Satoru’s eyes. He’s drinking in your every reaction, a smirk on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. Readying to say a smart remark, you begin to push back on his hand, but he trails his tongue to your nipple – effectively replacing the words in your throat with a shaky sigh.

Satoru swirls his tongue around your rosey bud, slowly and expertly warming your breast with his mouth. He takes more of the plump flesh into his mouth, sucking diligently as he lets his teeth graze the sensitive peak. You gasp at the feeling, and he groans in response. Each of his intoxicating movements goes straight to that firey pit in your stomach, which only grows hungrier at his touch.

“Mm, Satoru,” you moan breathlessly as he takes your nipple between his teeth, applying the right amount of pressure to the bud as his free hand comes to work your unattended breast.

He hums into your skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine as you close your eyes, losing yourself to the lull of his lips. Long nimble fingers work your breast harmonously with his mouth. They roll, pinch, and tease you as his tongue flicks and swirls. You mewl lightly as he switches breasts, giving the same treatment to your other that he gave the first.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, biting into the flesh of your breast, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You open your eyes, meeting his intense blue. He’s smiling against your skin as he ghosts his lips over your ribs, tongue trailing the outline of your tattoo. Your body shivers under him, eager for more as his head dips lower, closer to where you want him the most.

“You’re the beautiful one,” the words come out as a sigh as he presses a kiss to your hip, right above the band of your sweatpants.

“Hm,” he hums, trailing an elegant finger from your sternum to your navel, dipping the digit under the band.

Satoru makes a show of kissing his way across your stomach, from one hip to the other, soft strands of his hair tickling you along the way.

You squirm under him, wishing desperately to touch his hair. Longing to run your fingers through it, to ground yourself to this reality. He senses it, too. Because he gives you a knowing smile as he dips his hand under your pants, just barely brushing the top of your pelvis.

“Getting impatient, Y/n?” he asks playfully as he takes his finger, lightly tugging a corner of your pants, exposing more of your hip to his tempting mouth.

“I want to touch you,” finding some confidence, you push against his restraining hand, silently cursing his immeasurable strength.

“Let’s see,” Satoru pauses, places his head on your thigh softly, then looks up at you innocently. The pressure is dizzying. So you count your breaths to stay alert, to not close your eyes and lose yourself in his presence.

“I’ll release your hands as long as you stay still, can you do that for me, baby?”

There was a mischievous look in his eyes, one that made your throat dry and had you clenching your thigh muscles.

“Y-Yes?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion, but he only smiled at the sight. His hand released your wrists and you immediately moved to shake out the numbness of your arms.

“May I?”

His fingers dance around the edge of your sweats, eyes patiently awaiting your response.

Eagerly, you nod your head.

Satoru, still with his devilish smile, removed your sweatpants from your body. He then slid off the bed, dropping to his knees as he dragged your body to the edge. You rose yourself up on your elbows, not hiding your want from him. But also, you took in the sight – Satoru Gojo, half naked, and on his knees for you.

His hands spread your knees for him, opening your legs wide. You, though still clothed in only your underwear, feel the air hit your heat. It was then you noticed how wet you were, and you know he noticed it too.

Gently placing your legs over his shoulders, Satoru places a slow kiss on your calf. You watch as he drags his wet lips up your leg, pressing kisses to your tender skin. The higher he goes, the more sensitive you become, finding it increasingly difficult to not shift as muscle-jerking tingles hit you.

Your hands find the soft strands of his hair as he reaches your inner thigh, now dangerously close to your need. You feel his breath kiss your heated skin, forcing you to clench his hair so you don’t move. Smiling, he presses his lips to the crease between your thigh and pussy making you sharply inhale. You cross your toes as the shiver runs through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“You’re already so wet for me,” Satoru hums appreciatively, then he places a kiss on your clothed mound.

You barely have time to register the feeling, because he licks a zig-zag stripe up your heat, stopping just before meeting your clit. He moans into you as your taste lightly coats his tongue. The vibration makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you moan softly, bringing your hand up to your mouth, and biting down on your pointer finger.

“Mmph!”

Your yelp gets muffled into your skin as Satoru lays his tongue flat against your entrance, pressing his hot mouth against you, then drags it up .

The brief pleasure of him brushing your clit has you trembling. He doesn’t stop till he reaches your navel, tongue dipping into the crevice, swirling around the sensitive skin only to retrace its path down, stopping just above your throbbing clit. His tongue moves left and right lazily, and his saliva coats the cloth of your underwear, intensifying the feeling, but it’s incomplete.

“Ah, Toru’ – please.” your desperate plea fumbles out of your mouth as saliva begins traveling down your chin. You want – no, you need him on you, without any barriers.

“Use your words for me pretty girl~” his words are hot and heavy against you, making you moan. And just for emphasis, he gives your needy clit a light flick of his tongue, making you bite your finger harder.

He knows what you want, but he wants to hear you beg for it.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to think.

His hands join the party now. One goes to remove your finger from your mouth as his other presses his thumb to your entrance, goading you as his tongue continues to just barely flick your bundle of nerves.

“Please what?” he encourages, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I-I want you,”

You weren’t sure what you wanted exactly. Part of you wanted him to make you see stars with that dangerous tongue of his, but the other half wanted to know exactly how full you’d feel with him in you.

He laughs lightly against you, planting a kiss on your clit as his thumb pushes past your panties, entering your dripping entrance. All air leaves your lungs as he wraps his mouth against your clothed clit, licking while sucking you as his thumb gently pumps your walls.

A broken string of curses leaves your lips as pleasurable fire dances down your legs. The sudden relief leaves your thoughts tangled and incomplete. It’s sweet and taunting, but you’re stuck, muscle taunt, and breath uneven as you try to keep your body still, unable to fully lose yourself to the pleasure.

“S-Satoru,” you throatily moan his name. He groans into you, fingers gripping yours harder as he replaces his thumb with two long fingers, curling them up into you.

Oh fuck.

“Ah, shit just like that,”

You tilt your head back, enjoying the way his calloused fingers feel against your velvet walls. Again and again, his digits just barely brush against that spongey spot in you, heightening the feeling of his ministrations against your clit.

“Deeper,” you plead, needing him to hit your spot.

Slowly, you open your eyes to see him smirk at you. Then, at your request, he pushes his fingers further into you while curling them up. Your eyes roll back as the new feeling courses through you.

“Like that baby?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

“Mm, yes, fuck just like that,” you answer, barely able to think straight. Your feet start to become unbearably hot as your stomach tightens. Your whole body trembles from both pleasure and restraint, and your leash on yourself is slowly slipping. Your back arches as he continues working you, eliciting obscene noises from you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises and you bite your throaty moan back.

Pressing your palm flat against his scalp, you push his head further into you. Taking your silent plea, he releases your hand to push your soaked panties to the side, tongue finally coming into contact with your bare skin. The intense feeling crashes upon you and you lose control of your limbs. You lock his head into place as you dig your fingers into his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue. His fingers match your unhinged pace and he moans into you, sending sweet vibrations down your clit to that growing bomb in your stomach.

You feel your walls tightening as your high threatens to crash over you. Your moans are now strangled and incoherent as everything now feels so good . Finally, you open your eyes, daring to see the sight in front of you.

Satoru’s lovely eyes burn right through you, heated desire evident on his features. The sight of him, on his knees, between your legs, giving you his devout attention, has you shaking uncontrollably.

“Be a good girl and come for me, Y/n.”

His words are your undoing.

You come violently around his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer, walls clenching and unclenching as your body trembles sweetly. Satoru smiles up at you, removing his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue.

Bringing those two glistening fingers to your mouth he commands:

“Suck,” then his tongue is back into your entrance, fucking you with the stiff muscle.

And so you do, wrapping your mouth around his fingers, whimpering as you suck diligently all while your orgasm rips through you.

He swipes his nose against your hyper-sensitive bud as he laps you up, tongue swirling and curling inside you. You cry out helplessly, fisting your hands in the sheets as your stomach jerks. The pleasure is numbingly good, but it’s too much.

“S-Satoru– Ah sto– Jesus fucking Christ,” The last part of your broken sentence comes out in English, which grabs the man's attention. Amused blue eyes peer up at you, taking in the sight of the mess he created. His lips glisten with you and they’re pulled into that familiar smirk. You couldn’t help but think he was beautiful, like that of a fallen angel.

He removes himself from your heat, finally taking your ruined panties off your body as you close your eyes, breathing hard and unevenly. You try to collect yourself, but the after-effects of your orgasm still linger in your veins, stealing your attention.

But you are far from satiated, if anything, it left you wanting more .

Blindly, you reach out for his body. Your fingers find his biceps and you tentatively run your hands down his smooth skin, despite the tingle in your fingertips. Satoru plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, then your temple, then your forehead, until he’s placed kisses around your entire face, leaving you with light giggles. His weight returns to your body, and you’re happy to feel his bare legs brush against your own.

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbles dreamily into your skin, still placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Smiling as you trace the outline of his tricep, you open your eyes to find him looking at you sweetly. The sight makes your heart lurch. So you return his kisses, pressing your lips to his heated skin, tasting yourself on his flesh.

“I think,” whispering, you bring a shaky hand to his chin, wiping away some of your desire.

“This speaks for itself. But,”

Kissing the corner of his mouth, you run your other hand down his abdomen, nails lightly digging into every dip and ridge of his defined muscles.

“But?” he hums, and you feel his lips pull into a smile.

Your hand travels south till it reaches his length. You take the girthy member in your hand and pump him once, relishing in the way it jumps in your palm as Satoru inhales sharply.

“I want to taste you, too.”

With your hand that held his chin, you turn his face to you, capturing his lips. Your desire coats your tongue as his muscle dances with yours. You slowly pump his throbbing member, thumb swiping over the tip, coating his soft skin with a bead of precum. Satoru steals your tongue, sucking on your muscle while groaning.

Hooking your legs around his, you flip your bodies so you are now on top of him. You pull back from the kiss to admire the sight. Soft white eyelashes flutter against his red cheeks as you continue pumping his cock.

You watch as his throat bobs up and down and he licks his lips. The image added fuel to your growing fire, filling you with determination to not only please the man before you, but to make him as much of a whimpering mess as he made you.

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you place a kiss on his neck. You continue working his shaft, focusing mostly on the head, but with only enough pressure to move his skin, but not to truly stimulate him. Your lips travel south, your tongue joining the mix as you admire his body, ensuring to greedily trace the skin where your mouth doesn’t explore. Satoru shifts under you, slowly growing more impatient as lick your way down the line that separates his abs.

You hold his stare, watching as his eyebrows knit together the closer you get to his cock.

Giving the male a knowing smile, you pull his shaft back, allowing yourself the space to flatten your tongue on his pelvis. You feel the light prickle of his growing pubic hair as you drag your muscle to his hip bone, tracing the outline of it with the tip, enjoying the way his body shivers under you.

Goosebumps pepper Satoru’s skin as his hands find your arms, rubbing them lightly. Smiling, you press your lips to the crease of his thigh, then lick the skin beneath. You feel Satoru’s thigh muscle tense and you chuckle, applying more pressure to the tip, earning yourself a low groan.

“So responsive~” you tease him with his own words, pressing your thumb to his tip, admiring the way his desire coats your skin.

Bringing your face close to his need, you breathe lightly onto his heated skin, knowing full well what the light sensation did to him. You watch as his eyes roll back slightly, his large hands now wrapping around your biceps as he shudders.

“Say,”

Pausing, you swirl your tongue around him once, then flick the head lightly. Satoru half moans, half chokes from the sudden sensation. But you pull back completely, returning to your taunting hand movement.

“Tell me what you want,” you whisper seductively, licking your way up from his base to the tip, this time allowing yourself to taste him. The salty yet sweet taste coats the very tip of your tongue, and you moan appreciatively.

Satoru tilts his head back and bites his lip. You feel his hands tremble, noticing his restraint.

“Your mouth. Now .”

You click your tongue.

“Here?”

Pressing a kiss to his thigh, you feel his cock jump in your hand. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you were also drunk off of the sheer power you held over this man. Who’s body is sculpted like that of a Greek god and holds the title of the strongest, yet yields to you.

“Y/n,” he warns, voice low and strained. His hands now move to your hair, tangling themselves in your strands, pulling lightly.

I like it when you say my name.

“Ah, you’re right. Here?”

Pushing his skin up so that his precum leaks out, you press a slow open-mouthed kiss to the tip, licking your way across the bulk of the head. You continue this exact motion, pumping him just as slowly as you were kissing him. Satoru watches you intently, hands shaking in your hair as you hold his gaze.

“More,” he urges desperately, bucking his hips up to go deeper into your mouth. You relent, but only for an inch.

Removing your hand entirely, you rub the sides of his thighs as you slowly suck that inch of his cock, swirling your tongue at the tip with every motion. You watch Satoru go mad, both hating and loving your tease. There was desperation in his eyes along with restraint, and you took advantage of that.

As soon as he knew exactly how well you could take it, well, the game would be over.

“As much of me as you can Y/n,” Satoru is breathing heavily, hands still in your hair but he doesn’t force himself in your mouth. Instead, he holds fast, letting you continue your slow torture.

You hum around him, allowing half of his cock into your mouth, the tip now reaching the back of your throat. His eyes roll back as you suck a little harder, but not any faster. You bring one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you work his shaft. A soft moan leaves Satoru’s lips as it goes to your core, urging you to forget your game and give him your all. But he’s not near the point where you were when he finally gave in, and that alone makes you hold out.

Continuing to softly hum into him, you start to add slurping noises to your song. Satoru’s eyes roll shut and a small whimper leaves him.

“Can you take more of me, baby?” his fingers massage your scalp, feeling the slow bob of your head.

Oh, you think you're too big, do you?

With an inward smile, you let your thickened saliva dribble down to his base, then you quickly take all of him in. You hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat, letting his impressive length travel down your esophagus till your nose is touching his stomach.

“S-Shit–” Satoru curses, strong hands holding your head in place for a moment. Once he releases his grip, you return to your previous position on his shaft, sucking his member slowly.

His eyes shoot open, looking at you with both shock and confusion. You flutter your eyelashes sweetly as you continue your torturing pace. Satoru sucks in the air between his teeth, the realization of you not being as innocent as he may have thought settling over him.

“Please,” he breathes heavily, eyes transfixed on the base of his cock where your mouth was just moments before. You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it was delicious .

Taking him out of your mouth with a satisfying ‘ pop ’ , you stick out your tongue, slapping his cock against it. His eyes turn dark at the sight as his mouth falls slightly open, a satisfied smirk pulled on his wet lips.

“Please what, baby? What do you want? Don’t be shy.”

You trace the outline of his red tip with your lips, eyes never leaving his. His throat bobs as he considers his words, clearly, he still views you as fragile, and you have every intention of breaking that image.

“Please let me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours,”

You smirk, planting a kiss on his head, and then you hop off the bed, taking him with you. Satoru silently follows your lead, eyes raking your frame as yours watch the way his member stands proudly against his stomach. Angry red and glistening with your saliva.

Sending your confused lover a wink, you get back on the bed, laying on your back, hanging your head over the edge.

You now have a full good view of his perfect body. You hungrily look at his length, happy to find that it has a light curve. You clench your legs together at the thought of him in you, and Satoru smiles. He spreads your clenched legs while his other grabs his shaft, giving it a pump before he slaps it against your lips.

“Open up baby,”

At his command, you open your lips, making a show of stretching your neck and sticking out your tongue. Satoru leans forward, bracing himself with one hand as his other guides his cock into your mouth. He slowly pushes himself down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to his thickness. At this angle, your throat is tighter and it's harder to breathe, but that’s what you wanted.

He begins moving his hips. His start is slow, allowing your saliva to coat him. You take the time to find the right position, hands going to cup his ass for the support you knew you were going to need. Then, just like you thought, Satoru moves. His hips snap forward with just enough force to push himself down your restricted throat, but not enough to crush your nose. You moan into his skin, happily hollowing out your cheeks, slurping and choking on him.

“God you’re so fucking perfect,” he moans while his free hand goes to massage your clit.

Rough fingers work your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving the soft skin with each thrust of his skillfully controlled hips. Your tongue moves with him, licking and wrapping around what it can. You begin to lose yourself in his soft moans, enjoying them as the air in your lungs becomes thinner and thinner.

It gets increasingly hard to breathe and you love it, sucking down what bit of air you can in between each of his thrusts. Your mouth pools with your thick saliva and it trails down your chin, spilling onto your neck, but you pay it no mind. You simply angle your head further, digging your fingers into his ass to give him better access to your abused throat.

His hand moves to your entrance, two fingers plunging into you, fucking you at his relentless pace. Satoru's palm rubs against your harden clit and tears prick your eyes. Strangled moans fight to come out of your throat between his movements as abrupt pleasure courses through you, motivating you to please him further.

Satoru’s thrusts become more erratic and you begin to feel the base of his cock twitch in your mouth, prompting you to moan around him. You send sweet vibrations down his cock, and he curses under his breath, fingers in your pussy delving deeper, brushing that spot, making your stomach tighten.

“Fuck,” groaning, Satoru thrusts himself deep into your throat, pausing entirely as thick ribbons of his seed shoot down your pipe. His fingers that pleased you move to your throat as he feels himself come in you. You hold still, licking him with your tongue until he readies himself to slowly pull out of your mouth.

Turning so your belly is flat against the mattress, you start to swallow his seed, ensuring your gulp is audible so he hears you. He watches you with a smile on his face, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb sweeping over your near-bruised lips.

You take note of his cock, still very erect against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/n.”

Your name left his lips in a breathless pant, and it was enough to make your walls clench.

Satoru smiles down at you, dropping to his knees so he can capture your lips. The kiss is tender and soft, and it sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“You hurtin’ at all?” he asks between each press of his lips. You smile into the kiss, playfully nibbling his lower lip.

“Not at all, I could do that again.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as his hands run down the length of your spine. The touch is light with no intention other than feeling your skin. Satoru pulls back from the kiss to press his soft lips to your forehead.

“We can stop here if you want.” his voice is full of practiced calm.

His hand runs down your hair, soothing your mind all while your body is still burning with desire.

It had been so long since you had shared a kiss, let alone your bed with someone. The touch of others felt so invasive until Satoru. You would be damned if you let him go now.

“Satoru, you’re not going to hurt me.”

Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sigh. You knew he had insecurities, and you know it’s only amplified by you being entirely, well, human. But you want to ease his worries, in every way you possibly could.

“You don’t know that, Y/n.”

Pulling back, you force him to hold your stare.

“Our time is short. I don’t want to live my life with regrets. I want you, Satoru, in all senses of the word.”

You lovingly hold his face, thumbs gently sweeping over your cheeks like he had done for you. The quiet tender gesture lingers between you as your breaths intertwine. You see him considering your words in those knowing blue eyes, ever-calculating and so full of thought.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you.”

A laugh almost escaped your lips. The serious look on his face would make anyone stop cold, but it only made you smile.

“I promise. But you won’t hurt me, I trust you.”

At those words, Satoru captures your lips, tongue sweetly passing through your lips, immediately claiming yours for his own. Tentative hands explore your body, fingers lightly brushing over your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Moving to tangle your fingers in his hair, you run your teeth along the expanse of his tongue, smiling at the groan that leaves his lips.

Satoru’s hands guide your body up as he stands, his lips never leaving yours even as he presses your back to the mattress. Gentle hands spread your legs for him and you hiss. The feeling of cool air hits your wet need followed by the feeling of Satoru’s still slick member rubbing up against you. His warmth shocks you and he smiles at the gasp that escapes your lips. He pulls back from the kiss to meet your eyes.

Primal desire stares back at you.

You can’t help but let your eyes travel south, watching as he rubs himself against your slickness, hand on the base of his cock. His tip just barely brushes your clit and you moan, feeling your walls immediately clench at the swift pleasure.

“You want this dick, Y/n?” Satoru’s gravelly voice asks as he slaps his cock against your clit.

Dear lord help me.

“Y-Yes,” you half breathe, half moan out.

“Look at me,”

You do as commanded, tearing your eyes away from his impressive length to find his heated gaze.

“Use your words,”

He rewards you with another slap to your clit and you moan, the brief relief making your toes curl. Mindlessly, you run your hands down his arms, raking your nails down his triceps as you try to formulate words.

“Please fuck me,” you watch his face, eyes full of hope, but he only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, prodding your entrance. His taunt is maddening, and you try to shift your hips down, but a strong hand holds you in place.

“You can do better princess. Tell me exactly how you want me,” he smirks down at you, tip still just barely pushing at your entrance, all promise of everything you want.

Biting your lip, you swallow your pride.

“I want you to fuck me so hard that every time I sit down I can only think of you.”

A small breath leaves his lips and he smiles, shaking his head. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that answer.

“So full of surprises,”

“Surprised are you–”

Before you could finish your sentence he pushes himself into you, stealing all the air from your lungs.

His thick length pushes past the first ring, and the feeling is so sickeningly sweet. Relief floods your veins as he fills you, your walls stretching to accommodate and hug his member, pulling him further into you.

“Holy shit,” you sigh, digging your nails into his arms as you spread your legs wider, giving him all of you.

“God, Y/n, you’re so fucking tight even after all that.” his voice is strained as he grabs your right thigh, fingers digging into the plush of your skin as he bottoms out in your pussy, holding completely still, allowing you to adjust.

You feel your walls clench and unclench happily, he stretches and fills you so well it is dizzying. You press kisses to his sculpted chest, a silent plea for him to move. He picks up on your hint well, slowly pulling his hips back to only push them back into you. Even a heartbeat of him not being in you made you feel so incomplete, the way his body fit with yours was almost too perfect.

“Fuck Satoru,” you moan closing your eyes, letting your head fall back, focusing solely on the blissful feeling of him.

His hips keep a steady slow pace, allowing your bodies the chance to adjust to one another. Satoru shifts your leg to prop it over his shoulder, making him go just a little bit deeper into you, pulling a throaty moan from you.

“Hold onto something baby,” he warns and you barely register his words, hands enclosing his wrists as he picks up his pace, pulling his cock out of you to the tip to snap it back into you.

“Oh my fucking God,” your eyes snap open as you watch Satoru rail your pussy. Your breasts bounce at his pace and you moan loudly, unable to hold back your noises.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, Y/n.” he praises breathily and you moan, happy for the praise.

“Mmph– Fuck so do yo– ahh” your sentence is broken, unable to speak due to the dizzying speed of his powerful thrusts.

Each snap of his hips is expertly controlled. He angles himself up so he doesn’t hit your cervix as he ensures not to fully crush your body. One hand holds your thigh in a fixed position as his other holds your hip, moving your body with his seamlessly. Heavy breasts bounce against your chest as your body feels electric, alive, and taught; like you’re walking on a live wire. Pleasure kisses your nerves, promising new, but terrifying heights.

“Open your mouth,” Satoru’s strained voice commands, and your pussy pulses in response.

Swallowing thickly you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for dramatic flare, trying desperately to keep your eyes open. Satoru smiles at the sight, leaning over you further, then spits in your mouth. Your mixed taste coats your tongue and you whimper as his thumb goes to circle your clit.

“Hold it in your mouth till I tell you to swallow princess. Can you do that for me?” your stomach tightens at the sensation of his thumb, but it’s almost faint due to the overwhelming pleasure his cock brings you.

Feeling entirely submissive and breedable you nod your head, your saliva already beginning to build in your mouth.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees.”

Satoru completely releases your body, allowing you to flip over and get on all fours. A whimper leaves your lips due to the loss of him, but you shake your ass for him. The action earns you a slap to your ass, his fingers dig into your plump skin as he shakes the flesh for himself, and you curse, feeling your desire drip down your inner thighs.

You feel his nimble finger trail your wet slit, and he whistles. Then, his mouth is on your ass, tongue circling your tight ring. Strong hands shake your ass as he continues to lick and probe your hole, making your legs shake. The feeling is entirely new, and it feels good. Not as good as when he eats your pussy, but it's enough to have your walls clenching and clit throbbing.

The spit in your mouth begins to push out of the corners of your lips as you try to hold your moans back. Your hands are fisted in the sheets as Satoru trails his way to your dripping entrance, tongue dragging down till his licking your sensitive clit. As if it wasn’t enough, his thumb pushes into your tight asshole, pumping the well-lubricated hole.

I am not going to survive this man.

“Swallow baby, let me hear you.”

You gratefully swallow your combined spit, moaning loudly as your first breath leaves your lips.

“Satoru fuck me please,” you plead, feeling so empty it’s maddening. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, you were certain your body wouldn’t grant you release unless he was in you.

You feel his head pull away from your pussy as his fingers enter you, just barely scratching your itch. It was laughable to compare the feeling of his fingers to his cock – it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Like this baby?” his thumb still plays with your asshole as he curls and pumps his fingers in you. Your thoughts are tangled, and words are hard to push out of your throat, getting caught in the thick layer of saliva coating your mouth.

“I want… Your cock. Please, please, please, I–” tears pricked your eyes, you were overstimulated.

Closing your eyes you took deep breaths, feeling as he pulled his fingers out of you to only wrap his hand around your hair, pulling your neck up. His tip pokes your throbbing entrance as his heavy breath kisses your ear.

“You want me, Y/n?” the heavy seductive words makes your spine tingle.

“I want all of you, Satoru.” though you tried to force your voice to sound normal, the words came out in a quiver.

“Good,”

Then he was in you, cock plunging deep within your velvet walls, stoking the burning fire in your stomach. You arch your back, mewling harshly at the abrupt feeling of him filling you.

“You feel so good, fuck.” Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back to then fill you back up, thick member stretching you too fucking good.

With his hand still wrapped around your hair, he pushes your neck down so your face is pressed against the mattress. You open your eyes, face rubbing against the bed, and watch the man above you. His head is tilted back, bottom lip between his teeth as he works to make you both feel good – hips rolling into yours, enjoying the feeling of your walls sucking him back in.

“You’re so beautiful,” you moan softly, completely entranced.

Satoru smiles, eyes opening and he pushes strands of your hair away from your sticky forehead.

“All you baby girl,” he pushes himself further into you, angling himself up, completely hitting that spot.

“Oh fuck!” you curse, letting the brief pulse of intense pleasure run through you.

“You like that baby?” knowing full well what he’s doing, Satoru grabs your hips, hitting your spot again, making your muscles jerk.

“Ah– Yes!” words were lost to you as white-hot pleasurable fire ran through your veins, making your entire body shake.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Satoru grunts, thrusts becoming more erratic.

“I– Mmph, yours!” with eyes rolling to the back of your head, you focus on your core, feeling your high threaten to crash over you.

“That’s right, Y/n.” fingers dig into the flesh of your ass “You’re. Mine.” he declares between powerful thrusts, still ensuring to hit that spongey spot, making your vision blot with white.

“I– I am so fucking close, Satoru,” the words are a cry and you feel your whole body become taught, preparing itself for its inevitable crash to earth.

“Come on my cock baby. Let me make you feel good.”

And as if the word was law, your body did as he asked.

Your second orgasm ripped through you, pulling a scream from your throat. It’s dizzying, disorienting, and far too intense. Your body spasms uncontrollably as electrifying pleasure coursed through you, making your toes curl. You try to run away, but you are locked into place by Satoru's strong hands. With each pulse of your orgasm, your walls clench and grip Satrou’s cock, dragging him to earth with you. He ensures to thrust harmoniously to the rhythm of your pulses as thick ribbons of his cum mix with your own, filling up your belly.

With breath heavy and uneven, you both fall to your mattress. Sartoru's sweaty body presses against your back as he rubs your arms all while pressing kisses to your temple. Your body shook as you came down from your high, thighs jerking with each breath and light movement from the male still plunged within you.

“You feeling okay, beautiful?” his words are a soft whisper against your skin.

Eyes still close, you nod. The intense pleasure left you light-headed and unable to speak. So instead, you angle your head and capture your lover’s lips. Soft and sweet, and entirely loving. Satoru smiles against your lips, hands lightly rubbing your sides.

“Let's turn over so I can hold you, yeah?" his words tickle your lips, making you smile. You let him move your body with effortless ease.

The male holds you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your small frame, enveloping you in his radiating warmth. His strong heartbeat sounds in his chest, and you listen to it in earnest, thankful for the fact that he is alive.

You stay like that for a moment, listening to the sound of him while he kisses your skin, both being silently thankful for the other.

“I love you, Y/n,” Satoru whispers into your hair, lips still pressed to your scalp.

With a child-like smile, you peer up at him. Brillant blue peers into your soul, calling to you, to your bond, and your heart sings in response.

“And I love you, Satoru. My heart is yours.” his eyes fold kindly, just like that first night in your kitchen.

“And mine is yours. You’ve healed me.”

—

You spent what little time you had left with Satoru, soaking up every minute, second, and hour. You both decided it was pointless to dwell on the unknown, so instead you enjoyed each moment that you were allotted. Sharing stories of your adventures, travels, and struggles. You healed each other, in ways that one would think impossible. You renewed each other's souls, in turn binding yourselves together.

“You know, that day we met, I think my heart knew before I did that I needed you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t even know you, but seeing you was enough to wash away every ounce of my pain. My body moved before I could think. So I dropped the lamest pick-up line ever known to mankind.”

“Haha, yeah. But it worked out didn’t it?”

“That it did. You are my greatest treasure, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, please come back to me safely.”

Satoru smirked, all of his bravado pulled into every atom of his existence.

“Don’t worry, I am the strongest. I can’t leave my fiance all alone now can I?”

“No, you can’t.”

“See? So don’t worry about me, baby.”

With that, the lovely male plants a passionate kiss on your lips, and then walks away.

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