#most dangerous place in tokyo

[tonycries]

Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam! 

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 

 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“Next time you do that you’re-” 

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy.  It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with. 

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

#bamf danny phantom #danny phantom #dc x dp #jason todd #Jason takes him to a library and they pick out books for each other #Danny asks him on a second date and they talk about the book over coffee #and then they watch the stars (Danny uses his ghost powers to clear a patch of sky) #but Danny just kind of watches Jason’s face and goes yeah this is just as good #Danny dngasf #Danny will throw hands with a clown #Danny thinks the Gotham Rogues are kinda cute #with their gimmicks #unimpressed bc they’re kind of obvious #and he’s seen worse and better #danny is Gotham’s Mom Friend

[gamermattsgf]

Tokyo drifters // drag racer Chris

Warnings: car sex / tit fuck / cum kink / fingering / cunnalingus / size kink / spit kink / enemies to lovers trope / dangerous driving ig (?) / mentions of smoking and brief mentions of alcohol / praise kink

Summary: what do you get when you cross a competitive drag racer with an equally as competitive opponent? Smoke, engine oil and a whole lot of sexual tension, that’s what.

Author’s notes: and so let the obsession with racer fics begin, but with a Chris flavoured twist. Chris strikes me as the illegal, reckless driver type, hence my modern twist on something very fast and furious-esque. Chris x drag racing actually makes me wet u guys I fucking love it, like- imagine him drifting around in a red Nissan Skyline gtr with his black and white leather jacket on, UGH it really just gets me going…

“We could do whatever you want, you could fuck me in the back of your car” - HER, Chase Atlantic

The black asphalt glimmers with a coat of wetness and a pattern of oil spillage slicked over the top of it, the technicolour rainbow greased and worming in the fluorescent lights of the street as the heavy hum of revved engines purr in your ears and echo across the emptied roads.

Beer bottles and cans splash here and there on the dripping concrete with discarded cigarette cases and lighters balanced on top of littered leather jackets.

Illegal drag racing. Bets. Stacks of money shoved into the pockets of the driver that is triumphant at the end of the night.

You’re here because this place is rife with the best of the best. The ones who really soak their hands in the leather of their steering wheels, who breathe the musk of their seats, and who burn the rubber marks of their legacies into the very streets that they rocket through each early A.M.

At present you stand to the side of the pavement, smelling the stench of broiling petrol mingled with the scent of flavoured cigarette smoke.

Your eyes survey the various Suzukis, Mustangs and Toyota drifters, all in different colours and all with different painted decals to signify each of the driver’s unique personality, wrinkling your nose at the lack of female drivers leaning against their own cars.

There are plenty of people here.

The rules are simple, you bet on the driver you wager is going to win and then whatever number of votes the driver receives determines their starting position at the beginning of the race.

As your eyes pass over the mingling people chatting in heaped groups with different drivers, you dismally notice the one person who you most definitely did not want to run into tonight. The only other person who can match your speed.

Great. Well that’s just fucking fantastic.

He is on his own. His lanky figure leaning against his electric red Nissan drifter with sleek black wheels and windows, his raven brown hair dusting his face in waving curls as his hands tuck themselves into his black and white leather racer jacket.

A long white cigarette lies perched in between his lips, smoke lazily oozing out from the lit cherry before dispersing into the cool night air in front of him.

He makes no effort to smoke it properly, simply lets it rest in between the purse of his lips whilst he too, observes his competition.

That is, until his eyes trail their way over to you. Now you’re both looking at each other, and he finds it within himself to cockily smirk, your silent rivalry unnoticed by the rest of the bustling audience here to simply bet and watch the race.

You scoff quietly, pushing your feet into a walk, you’ve got to go and talk to him now.

You gradually make your way across the sopping wet tarmac road, heading straight in the direction of the one man who always knows how to rub you the wrong way.

As you go, you fish one of your own cigarettes out of your cigarette case, and then light it. It sparks, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly whilst waiting for you to reach him.

When you do, you stop and nod at him in greeting, mumbling a curt ‘Chris’ after whipping your cigarette from out of your mouth and resting it within your pointer and middle finger.

To contrast your cold behaviour, your arch nemesis tilts his head playfully, his smugness practically oozing from his figure as he retorts with a ‘hey sugar… ready to lose tonight?’. Your nostrils flare.

The only reason you came tonight to race is because you didn’t think Chris would be here.

You fucking hate racing him, in fact, you hate even being within a close proximity to him. He drives you up the wall, irritates you to no end and most importantly- absolutely chokes you with conflicted feelings.

Because how can someone that you hate this much also be someone you feel so irresistibly attracted to?

Chris always finds the most painful of ways to dig under your skin and clamp his claws around you until you’re gasping for air and practically begging to be let free.

Free from the inescapable prison that coaxes you into constantly thinking about him, even when he’s not around.

‘You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you win tonight, that money is mine’ you spit a laugh, before feeding your cigarette into your mouth and inhaling it to calm your nerves. He makes your fingers twitch, and sometimes you’re not sure if it’s because you want to wrap them around his throat or use them to pull his neck down into a kiss.

He raises his eyebrows and starts to once again use the mocking lilt to his tone that you know oh-so-well. ‘Oh really? Because last time I checked I’m pretty sure that money had my name on it’. He readjusts his lean on his red Nissan to make himself seem taller, and you grit your teeth at his teasing antics.

You don’t answer, and instead open you mouth. Chris watches the smoke that you had been holding in your lungs come seductively curling out, and he swallows nervously. It mingles between you two like a barrier of attraction before melting away into the damp air above you as you resume your usual grilling.

‘How’d you even find out about this race anyway? Thought you stayed on the South side?’

Chris shrugs and basks in the obvious annoyance your voice contains. He knows he’s in dangerous territory, this is your side of town, and you know the roads way better than him over here. But then again, when has Chris ever backed down from a challenge?

Plus, he fucking loves teasing you. He gets such a rise out of it every single time, in which case it’s worth hauling his ass all the way over to the other side town just for a race.

Just to see you.

He can’t help it, he just can’t keep himself away.

‘Friend of a friend’ he responds vaguely, before deciding to pluck the almost burnt out cigarette from his lips so that he can thrust it to the floor and crush it underneath his sneaker.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t believe that Chris managed to weasel his way into this race, because it’s definitely going to ruin your chances of going home with that prize money. To say Chris is a reckless driver is an understatement, he’s fucking good, but he also takes risks, risks that bargain with his life and the lives of others, so naturally, when people see his notorious red car pull up to races they panic and stay far behind him.

Not you though.

‘You best count your fucking days Chris because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you win this time…’.

Chris chuckles, his eyes narrowing in a siren-like way before reaching up to your mouth and slowly pulling your cigarette from out of your lips. ‘Yeah…? Well we’ll see about that, won’t we baby cakes?’ he chides, before fully stealing your cigarette and putting it into his own mouth without hesitation.

Your blood boils at his persistence and you spin around in a rage, wishing you could just run him over with your car. At least that would stop the heartbeat from pulsing in between your legs at his weirdly sexual action.

After watching you whisk away, Chris quickly gets into his car and slams his red door closed, satisfied with how flustered you had looked. Revving his engine with a humongous effort to get the race going, he knuckles his leather steering wheel before pulling away from the crowd to let them know that the race will shortly commence.

He is definitely eager to prove you wrong as he observes the way the heavy crowd of people disperse from the middle of the road and let the competitors and their cars through to their designated spots for the countdown.

Engines throttle and rev, starting up and growling like hungry beasts whilst you get into your own car. You then drive to your own assigned spot which had been conveniently placed somewhere in the middle for tonight’s race.

Suddenly, you spot a flash of red roaring up from behind you in your rear view mirror and you resist the roll of your eyes at Chris’ boy racer behaviour.

Chris’ car comes creeping up to level with yours. Slowly, the driver’s window is rolled down and you are faced with his attractive side profile, his nose delicately curving and his jawline popped. Except, now his hair is pulled back by a red bandana, leaving his earrings to glint in the fluorescent artificial light.

He faces forward, but then turns with another smirk plastered to his lips.

You roll your own window down, your engine also screaming to go, but instead of a red colour, your car exudes a violet purple hue, your front and rear lights tinted indigo with plastic filters that make the car in front of you glow a hazy pink.

‘May the best driver win, sugar’

The devil’s smile is concocted between his own teeth, the cheeky glint in his eye echoing the way he mockingly puts his pointer and middle finger up to his forehead to salute you before putting his foot on the gas pedal and roaring ahead to take his privileged place at the front of the line.

᧔♡᧓

Engines growl, their exhaust pipes spitting out puffs of gasoline scented smoke whilst each of the multicoloured cars creep into their places.

An orange car motors past you on your right, and a grey and blue one slides past your left, leaving you in the wet spray that their scuffed tyres kick up, but you’re not paying attention to them.

Craning your neck, your eyes narrow and your jaw grits at the back bumper tail of Chris’ neon red vehicle, the red brake lights glowing like the eyes of a demon as he simply sits stationary.

The city lights glow from the skyscrapers and illuminate the starting route of your racetrack, the wet asphalt making the reflections of the luminescent lampposts shine and bounce about the technicolour array of cars on display.

Chris thinks he’s better than you? Well, you’re just going to have to put that theory to the test then.

You hope that his heart beats just as competitively as yours, his eyes constantly checking for your pink headlights in his rearview mirror.

Finally, reaching into your glove compartment to slide on your black tinted sunglasses, you shut it back up again to listen to the heavily increased revs of car engines. The muffled cheers from the audience provide white background noise whilst the drivers’ exhausts rattle and their pipes growl.

A woman in sky-high stilettos then comes walking into view with a white flag raised above her head.

The crowd suddenly silences, all on the edges of their seats with anticipation.

Without another moment to lose, she quickly swipes down the flag, the white fabric fluttering as she goes before engines shriek and cars jerk forward, each driver putting the pedal to the floor. This forceful way of starting roars the inner workings of their cars whilst they frantically try to switch gears.

Coloured machines weave in and out of each other as the gods of drag racing look down upon the fast-paced urgency of the race, drivers testing one another and pushing their bodies to the limits as they zip and swerve about the road.

You keep your eyes locked upon Chris’ monster of a car though, because it easily pulls out in front and his drive forward quickly clears of any other cars. They just can’t keep up with his intricate drift work and very readily fall behind him.

You’ll admit, his turn of the wheel is masterful and his eye for the surroundings is impeccable as he nearly just shaves around corners and obstacles whilst keeping a steady track of the pathway ahead. However, this only increases your desire to win more.

You find your foot gently feathering upon the accelerator, your car rattling within your ears as the wind from your open window beats against your face and whips your hair around your neck.

You have already overtaken a handful of cars by now, with tyres screeching and smoke exuding from the rubber.

The eyes of every racer competing constantly zip about, just to check for lurking police cruises whilst traveling down the racer’s route through the nearly abandoned city road.

Your beasts for machines rocket past alleyways, giving homeless people a show as your paint jobs flash by their eyes in a juvenile blur.

Gears click as both yourself and Chris constantly press down on the clutch to drift around tight corners, your teeth gritting as you realise that you are now only a few competitive cars behind him.

Chris, meanwhile, frantically looks through his wing mirror to count how many cars lie between yourself and him.

But, then he widens his eyes and has to adjust it in confusion at the infuriating sight of your purple car hightailing it up the road to try and catch him. Already?

This always fucking happens whenever he gets a head start.

He rolls his eyes, stepping on his gas pedal even more to makes his car groan and jerk away on in front once again.

His bandana stays secured onto his head whilst he chews irritably against a fresh toothpick selected from out of his own glove compartment that also contains random junk such as cherry cigarette packets and condoms.

‘Fuckin’ woman’ He spits underneath his breath before aggressively jerking his wheel to the side and rounding another corner perfectly. His car skids and his wheels screech over the asphalt, centimetres away from hitting the curb before he’s straightening his steering wheel up again.

This time though, he can see the finish line in the distance, the small crowd of spectators gathering like little observant ants, watching as his car comes racing towards them from the mist of the city horizon.

However, you come in straight behind him with your engine roaring and your gasoline bubbles popping. Soon, your window reaches his, and you look to your left to see his side profile.

His jaw is clenched with his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows sitting in a glared furrow. His pupils then quickly flit to your car, and you pass each other a challenging look, hate spiralling within your gazes.

And everything is passive between the two of you, that is, until Chris decides to fight dirty.

His lips purse and he yanks his neck to face forward once again, before turning his wheel aggressively. His drifter then swerves near your wheels, nearly knocking you off to the side and sending you skidding into the curb. You frantically have to straighten back up again after only narrowly avoiding the crunch of his front bonnet.

That fucker.

‘HEY!?’

You yell to him with your window down, but he puts his own one up in response, his lips twitching up into a mischievous smile as he tries to tango with you upon the stretch of your own battlefield containing engine oil and concrete road strips.

He goes in for another direct hit, your tyres dangerously close to each other’s as his machinery tries to ram into yours.

Worryingly, you realise that Chris probably isn’t going to stop this dangerous teasing because of his determination to win. So, through your better judgement, you slow yourself and defeatedly allow his cocky red bumper to cut in front of your bonnet.

Chris beats you by a second, his wheels screeching over the pathetic make-shift line drawn in squiggly black graffiti.

You’re practically seething at this point.

After you angrily jerk your steering wheel, your car drifts to the side and it expels hot smoke from the grind it has against your back tyres before coming to a sideways halt.

You put your car in park, take off your seatbelt and speedily open your car door.

As you step out, you see that Chris has also stopped and gotten out himself, his sneakers crunching against the wet tarmac and his leather jacket squeaking whilst he slams his own car door shut behind him.

You clock eyes with each other and immediately find yourself storming up to his victorious figure that yet again leans against his car door suavely.

Whilst making your way over, someone sidles up to him and hands him a thick wad of cash that he stuffs right into his conniving little pockets with a mean smile of his face, aimed directly at you.

As you reach him, you just can’t help yourself, and before you know it you’re knuckling your fists into his leather jacket and yanking him right down to your face. His breath hitches in shock as he sees your lips close enough to claim that you are practically kissing.

Instead of actually kissing him however, you spit out a ‘what the fuck are you playing at?’ with your eyes narrowed and glinting frostily in the city lights.

They travel over his face, scanning him with scepticism whilst little strands of his raven brown hair curl out from the hold of his red bandana, no longer combing the shorter ones back and just letting them freely swish about his eyes in the wind.

‘Listen honey if you want me to pay for any scratches I gave to your paint job no can do, told you that money was mine…-‘ he cheekily retorts, using one of his ridiculously irritating nicknames for you to further worsen your drumming heart beat.

You didn’t realise you had pulled him this close until now.

This makes your nostrils flare with anger and you quickly release him, seemingly in denial of your own feelings as you listening to the way the zips of his leather jacket jingle at the force of your strength.

You scoff, sticking your nose up and further voicing your discontent at him.

‘Chris- you fucking cheated?!’ You shout with a small laugh in disbelief, your arms crossed over your chest as you refer to his illegal drag collision.

‘No proof? Didn’t happen, sweetheart’ he sassily bites back at you, which makes you falter, but your glare only harshens after he immaturely pokes the centre of your chest.

Does this man just make it his mission to piss you off as much as humanly possible?

Both of you maintain tense eye contact, your chest heaving whilst Chris’ eyes subtly flick downwards to soak in the look of your body.

As more coloured drifters cruise past the finish line, the silence gets awkward, awkward enough for you to spontaneously shouts a shaky ‘I want a fucking rematch!’, not really sure what provoked you to voice this random request. Usually, you couldn’t bear to be around Chris for more than 5 seconds at a time.

So why did you all of a sudden have the urge to be alone with him?

The way you look at him prompts Chris to suspect that this request probably isn’t just about having a rematch, that in fact it’s something much deeper… what that is, he doesn’t know yet, but he’s prepared to find out.

Clearing his throat, he slips a box of cherry scented cigarettes from out of his leather jacket whilst looking around wearily. You swallow, and watch him in silence as he puts one into his mouth and flicks on his lighter. Holding it up to the cherry, it sparks, and a small wisp of smoke puffs out from his pursed mouth.

He opens the door of his Nissan once again before sliding inside.

The scent of maraschino cherries diffuses across his ride and melts into the white leather seats as he shuts his door before using his hand to turn on the ignition. Then, he rolls down his window to thankfully still see you standing there expectantly and waiting for an answer.

Chris simply sits back in his seat, watching the wind comb through your hair as sickly sweet cherry flavoured smoke finds its way up into your nose.

‘Well?’ You raise your eyebrows and snap at him, your hip cocking sassily. But even though your exterior front looks confident, your insides panic and your mouth becomes dry at the very much tangible sexual tension within the air.

Chris looks forward for a second, leaving the both of you in silence once again so that you can take in the far away laughs and clinks of beer bottles from the left over straggling gamblers that are now only talking about Chris.

He squints his eyes with his cigarette still in his mouth, deep in thought, before crinkling his nose and sniffing, reaching his hand out to twist the keys of his car in the ignition properly. His car rumbles to life as he takes out his cigarette, resting it in between his two fingertips.

That arm decides to leans itself on the car door as his wrist and hand dangle out of the window.

‘Meet me at Carolina Point at 3am’

He mumbles to you, as if not wanting anyone else to know about this secret little rendezvous before he’s pushing down the handbrake of his car and it’s lunging forward.

He motors away with a singular hand gripping the steering wheel, turning it smoothly and leaving you with the remnants of his car exhaust fumes, his cherry cigarette butts and the smell of his black and white leather jacket.

᧔♡᧓

It’s 3am.

And music quietly hums from your radio as you pull up next to Chris’ parked car, the glittering red paint job a flashy eyesore when matched with the dark background of the skyline.

Carolina point overlooks a section of the city that is well known by racers like him and yourself and so it provides a nice backdrop for the strange meeting that you two are about to have. Chris sits on the bonnet of his car, looking down to the veins of his city before twisting his neck to observe the way you get out of your own car.

A small smile ticks at the side of his lips before he quickly wipes it away and stands up from his bonnet, the machinery creaking and the suspension bouncing upwards after being released from his weight.

‘Surprised you came’ he muses, before spitting the old toothpick from in between his lips into the long grass.

You roll your eyes and meet him halfway, already nervous about being alone with him in such a close proximity, especially after what had already unfolded between you two beforehand.

‘Course I did, you cheated’ you muse spitefully, and stop right in front of his taller frame. But Chris edges a little bit closer after you had come to a halt, which makes your palms sweat.

You try to keep your composure, fully intent on getting on with the business of the rematch you had wanted, until you fail when you physically watch the way Chris’ eyes dilated at the sight of you.

It makes you nervous to see his body react to you in such a way, and that nervousness only gets worse after he intentionally lowers his voice to purr a quiet ‘oh yeah? An’ how are we gonna fix that hm?’. His head tilts and his tone is as smooth as caramel, the tease almost belittling in manner.

Your chest expands with a stuttering deep breath, the smell of cherries tart on his tongue and overwhelming as the scent stains his jacket too.

Your heart quickens in pace the closer Chris’ head gets to yours, but you don’t move back, even though every siren in your body imaginable screams that this is so terribly fucking wrong.

You blink up at him, almost forgetting why you’re supposed to be here before dumbly stuttering ‘b-by having a rematch…’.

Chris looks at you so hungrily… so primally, and you hardly even get the time to finish your sentence before your mouth is being engulfed by his. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and neither do you.

His lips are soft and buttery as they rub against yours, your whole entire body stiff and your eyes wide, before you ever so slowly melt into his embrace.

Chris utters a quiet whimper of content and the noise almost makes you squeeze your thighs together. You didn’t even realise Chris was capable of making a noise like that.

Your lips smack together after Chris pulls away, saliva wetting the moist pink skin.

You’re trapped within a daze, utterly stunned and drunk on the taste of his mouth. Chris’ eyelashes feather, and he bites his lip in nervousness, testing the waters of what he’s just done to you. But you look as though you’re absolutely enamoured by it and so he grins in satisfaction.

He goes back again, this time more aggressively, to suck and pull on your lips, and you freely let him, not a single thought behind your eyes apart from the way his teeth pull on your flesh.

‘I- I want a rematch’

Chris pulls away just once for you to voice this timid defiance, however his only thought is concerned with how deliciously red and juicy your lips look. He acknowledges you only by dipping back in and pressing another soft kiss to your peachy pillows, humming a little ‘mhm’ in agreement but also not really listening to you as his face twists and his nose brushes against yours.

The wet sound of his lips sucking your plumper ones into his mouth makes your panties dampen.

‘What if I wanna make it up to you in some other way?’ He daringly mumbles against your lips which wets the skin even around them with his saliva. The arch of your back is subtle, but it’s still fully there as you weight up the pros and cons of this situation. But really… are there any cons aside from the afterthought of knowing that you let your sworn enemy touch your body in the most intimate of places?

At the present, it seems like such a small price to pay within the delusion of your lust. And Chris’ hands already feel just so magical when their big impressions carve their way down your waistline, sliding over the bumps of your hips.

Fuck they’re huge in comparison to yours. And that thought alone makes you wet, your folds becoming even slicker at the motion of Chris using his hands to force you up against the hard side of his car.

The metal and glass behind your back makes you shiver and the machinery is freezing cold in the already frosted mountainous air of Carolina point.

This cold suddenly brings you clarity, and for a second you have to fully stop and pull away from his intoxicating tongue, just so you can voice a stupid ‘wait- what are we doing…?’.

Your mind goes reeling and your eyes look like saucers when remembering just who you are kissing… and who is pushing you up against his car.

Your chest heaves and your voice sounds fully strangled, the vision of making out with Chris plaguing your mind and turning it rotten.

But Chris only gazes at you, understanding how weird this must feel, because it feels weird to him too. However he can’t help it, one taste was enough for him and now he’s hooked.

He pushes back into you with haste, his thick hips greedily pinning you to the side of his car as he groans an ‘ugh- fuck it, who even cares anymore?’.

It’s almost like he’s jointly voicing this to his own self control, because he then allows himself to messily paw at the side of his vehicle, frantically looking for the door handle to his back seat whilst fully enthralling himself within your kissing lips.

Your tongues twist, and it’s messy, but you love it just the same. Especially after feeling Chris beneath his baggy black jeans, thick and throbbing for you when he moans in approval at the touch of the door handle.

He curls his fingers into it and yanks it open, the suctioning sound of the door making your heart gallop tenfold because of the connotations that come with Chris forcefully pushing you into the backseat of his car.

Are you two really about to do this? What even happened to get you to this stage?

It all seems like such a blur now, the spontaneity of your actions helping to numb the idea of regret. An idea that you know you’re defintely going to feel in the morning.

But not tonight… tonight is about wandering hands and careless affections, between two people who just so happen to supposedly ‘hate’ each other.

He grabs you with a growled laugh of ‘c’mere’, his large palms splaying underneath your thighs as he hoists you into his arms and walks you around the sharp edges of his red door.

Practically throwing you inside, he’s eager to clamber in himself and restart his torturous decent of your luscious neck skin.

So he does, and he slams the door behind him whilst doing so.

Meanwhile, you spread your legs to let him into you, your ass sinking into the plush white leather of his seats as your back comes to rest against the opposite side door.

Now you’re seeing a completely different Chris, that hovers over you and gives you that toe curling gaze he’s perfected over the many months of first competing with you.

The gaze is reminiscent of the first time you two ever raced together, with a hint of attraction and chemistry there, until you started to hate each other as soon as it became more of a competition to see which one was better.

This Chris is so astronomically different in comparison to the one you had grown to absolutely despise, the two of you stuck in this viciously competitive cycle of building up tension after tension until all of it just burst and ended up with Chris’ head right in between your legs.

He yanks off every single article of clothing wrapped around your lower half, trying to resist the urge of snapping open your underwear and making a mess of the delicate red lace as soon as he sees it.

Fuck. You’re even wearing his racing colours.

‘These for me?’ He teases and raises his eyebrows whilst simultaneously slipping off your panties and lifting them to the side of his face.

Without knowing any better, you smirk and nod, guessing that it’ll drive his narcissism absolutely crazy. And you’re right. Because soon after, he scrunches up the soaked panties into his fist and throws them up to the front of the car. They messily then land on the dashboard.

He smirks down at your shining red cunt, wet stickiness practically drooling from out of your hole already.

‘Imma drive with your panties on the dashboard all the way home so that anyone who seems them will know how good I fucked this pretty little pussy…’

You swallow a pant at his crude language, not being able to help the shake of your hands or the blink of your eyes. ‘Do it… for me?’ You coquettishly breathe back, and it only drives Chris up the wall further. With this being said, he obeys and darts his head down to your centre, wasting no time in peppering small suctioned kisses against your inner thighs.

They quiver as soon as his face gets closer to your centre, and you know he’s just about to put his tongue on you because he smirks, gearing up to say another filthy thing.

‘M’sorry I cheated baby’ he pouts boyishly, before giving your clit an open-mouthed kiss.

You whine and buck your hips up into the firm hold of his rough hands, that have slid around to force you down and keep you from squirming away at his stimulation. ‘Forgive me?’ He speaks with his head tilted. Then a thick globule of spit comes tumbling from his mouth to plink onto your throbbing heat.

It greedily rolls down your pinkness and Chris goes in for another heavy kiss, this time closing his eyes to eat you like his life depended on it, licking around you clit and even dipping himself into your hole. He’s not sure when he’ll next get the chance to fuck you like this and so savours it with as much fever as he possibly can.

All the while, you lie with your back propped up against the opposite door, looking down at him with your calves smoothly slung around his shoulders.

You hypnotically watch how your thighs twitch at every opportunity Chris gives you, his tongue rolling over several pleasure points in an effort to get you to come.

‘Mmm-okay’ you moan before bitting your hand and mumbling through your teeth ‘I forgive you, please- please just let me cum’.

He had been savouring this for a while now, leisurely dipping his tongue in and out of you whenever he felt like it as he pressed his other palm over the thick bulge in his jeans, trying to suppress its ache by kneading it downwards and squeezing himself.

He struggles not to openly thrust his hips into his hand at the tiny whimpers you make, because you sound so pretty trying to reach your high.

He sighs before giving you one last rolling kiss. ‘I guess that’s only fair, alright I’ll let you cum sweetheart’.

Straight after he says this you let out a heaved ‘Jesus Christ!’, your cry brandishing tears within your eyes as one of Chris’ long fingers unexpectedly slide right up into your throbbing cunt, your precome already acting as natural lubricant to coat his skin.

It’s almost mouthwatering how good it feels, for both you and Chris. His finger seems to fit in there perfectly, and so he adds another, stroking your walls and curling them upwards delicately.

‘Can you fit three in there baby…? Please let me put three in… you look pretty when you’re drooling for my fingers’ he whines, his voice high pitched and begging for you to allow him the pleasure of three.

‘Fuck- yes, please, please put three in. I can handle it!’ You moan in desperation, not really knowing what to do with your hands, so one feeds itself into his luscious brown locks whilst the other one curls around the white leather headrest of the back seat you’re sitting on.

You white knuckle it when Chris effortlessly coos ‘there’s a good girl… gonna make you feel so good’ whilst inserting his third finger, its length making your back arch and the windows of the car fog up.

‘Look at you… fucking up the back of my car, needy girl’ Chris muses whilst observing the way some of your wetness leaks out and blobs onto his nice white leather seats, the condensation of your horny breath staining the windows and your hand practically clawing at his headrest whilst his fingers work inside of you.

‘S-shut up. You wreck the outside of my car, I’ll wreck the inside of yours’ you bite back sassily, your whole entire chin tipping back in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm clawing beneath the lining of your gut.

Chris’ fingers speed their pace at this, and the squelch of them working past your screaming orgasm nearly makes him cum all over himself within his pants, especially after hearing your continuous moan at the motion his harsh fingertip thrusts.

After you calm, you careen forward to grip onto the wrist of his hand, tapping out immediately in overstimulation. He pulls his sopping wet fingers from out of your core and then lollipops them into his mouth.

As you sit there and regain your breath, your cheeks redden impossibly further at Chris’ quipped demand of ‘take off your top’, still with his fingers bitten in between his teeth.

You do as he says, watching him pull his hand back out of his mouth with hooded eyes as you peel off the tight fabric.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to take off your bra either, you just do it, giving him the gorgeous sight of your tits resting on your chest.

‘This good enough for you?’ you tease, letting one of the straps from your bra slide down your pointer finger before tossing it next to your already discarded panties that sit upon his dashboard.

Chris blinks at your devilish action in shock, before putting a smirk back onto his handsome face.

‘Oh I am going to fuckin’ destroy you’ he cackles playfully, before curling his hands around the backs of your thighs and pulling your body to lay down horizontally.

You gulp as you tilt your chin upwards, watching the way he pulls his jeans and his underwear down with his gleaming cock springing up to hit his lower abdomen.

Licking your lips, you have to squeeze your thighs together at the sight of it as he then turns towards you and advances forward, with his lower half bare and his racer jacket and black t-shirt still in tact over his top half.

His pulsing cock stands on end, and he bites his bottom lip whilst clambering over your thighs to get to your stomach, much to your utter confusion.

That is, until you realise why he asked you to take your top off in the first place.

Planting his knees on either side of your underarms, they sink into his plush leather as he towers over you, grinning at your heaving chest. From his height advantage, he gathers a jewel of spit into his mouth and tips his head forward, allowing it to ooze outwards and splash against the valley in between your tits.

You swallow at this, watching as he then shuffles downwards and leans the head of his dripping prick onto the puddle of saliva he had created.

‘Push your pretty tits together sugar’.

Now when using this nickname, it sounds sickly sweet instead of full of malice, coated with a thin layer of cherry sauce as his cheeky grin perfectly mirrors the cheeky action of him using his hands to help you squeeze the sides of your tits together.

Your skin feels sticky with Chris’ spit and Chris lets out the ungodliest of groans when pushing his tip forcefully into the crack between them.

You hiss in pain at the feeling of Chris’ cock wedged against your tits, but bite your lip and ignore it in favour of watching the way he fucks his hips into them.

His pink head disappears in and out of the top opening and he has to fall forward and grip his hands onto the door to keep himself steady. He ruts himself faster with the added security and his car begins to shake at the aggressive motion.

He had done the majority of building up his orgasm whilst eating you out, so now all he had to do was finish it off, and what better way to do that than with his cock buried in between your tits?

‘Fuck Chris-’ you mumble with your mouth dropped open and your eyes glued to the way small drips of precum already leak out from his cock onto the flushed skin of your chest.

‘Ugh- I’m… I’m cumming- fuck- open your m-mouth’ Chris moans into the air, squeezing his eyes shut as the elastic band of his orgasm snaps and forces cum to come squirting out of his head, some of the sticky white liquid coating your chest, but the other half of it finding its way into your open mouth.

You wait for Chris to milk himself dry, your tongue still out expectantly, until he sees that you’re wanting permission to swallow it.

To help you, he reaches out one of his tremouring fingertips to gather up the cum smeared over your chin, then he slides them into your mouth.

You suck on them, swallowing all of what he has to give you with a tired but appreciative hum as he looks down at you with glassy eyes of complacency.

What the fuck just happened between you two… and why did he feel like he wanted to do it all over again?

᧔♡᧓

‘You still really not gonna pay for any of the scrapes you gave my car huh?’ You speak up into the awkward silence as Chris shuts the back door of his Nissan, leaving the smell of sex to permeate within his car.

He lights one of his cigarettes and snorts, trudging his way around to the front of his car before yanking the door open, your bra and panties still resting on the dashboard and yourself still very much naked underneath your regular clothes.

‘In your dreams sugar’.

There’s another silence as the two of you just look at each other, not knowing if whether or not you’ll ever see each other in that kind of vulnerable light again.

One thing is for sure though, no one can ever know about what happened here tonight.

Chris looks almost hesitant to go with his face softening and smoke tumbling from out of the red cherry of his cigarette. He blinks to snap himself out of it though.

‘Cya at the next race baby…’

He tips his head and then slides down into his car as you look at him wantonly.

‘Yeah… cya’.

᧔♡᧓

Author’s notes p.2: hot. RIVAL RACERS AND ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE OH YEAHHH. This is defintely the longest fucking thing I’ve done so I apologise for that lol. And I’m also equally sorry for the ridiculously long wait omg, I’ve been hyping this up too much so I’m sorry if it’s not that great bc most of it was written on major sleep deprivation haha. Also guysss exciting stuff is happening as I’m almost at 2,000 followers and me and @luv4kozume have got something really fun planned for us both hitting 2k!!

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[mncxbe]

I got my eye on youೀ๋࣭ ⭑

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff to soul soothing smut, dry humping, creampie, gentle, subby (sobbing) Fyodor, not proofread// now playing "Say yes to heaven"

Fyodor had his eye on you from the first moment he saw you– a pretty face buried in a hard cover volume of some novel he hasn't heard of, sitting in the back of the coffee shop he frequented with a cup of hot coffee before you. That was months ago and to this day he still hasn't forgotten the blush that tinted your cheeks when you met his gaze. Fyodor has never thought of himself as the type of man to be interested in relationships; he had his goals and his endeavours left little to no space for romance in his life– but he couldn't help it this time. Not with you.

So instead of averting his gaze from you, instead of paying his tab and leaving the coffee shop like he was supposed to, Fyodor came to your table and struck up a conversation.

He didn't expect the one time meeting to turn into regular dates at the museum and walks around Tokyo's busy streets at sunset after your shift at the library ended. At first, your relationship progressed slowly– neither of you willing to make the next step. He was often out of town, carrying out different shady business on behalf of his organization but although your bond didn't have a set lable, he knew without a shred of doubt that his heart belonged to you. That he loved you.

Months after your first meeting, he found himself coming to your place more and more often. Your invitations were most innocent– "I just wanna play a game of chess with you" you claimed every time but Fyodor wasn't stupid. He could tell by your loose behaviour and the fleeting glances you gave him that you were after something more. A lingering touch on his shoulder here, a dress hiked a bit too high there; yea, he knew what you wanted and still couldn't bring himself to give it to you.

Problem was, he actually cared about you. He wasn't willing to risk putting you in any danger by forming a deeper bond with you. Some nights, when thoughts of you kept him up 'till the break of dawn, he wondered if you two could actually work– he was smart enough to keep your relationship safe from his enemies' eyes, his precious little secret. But were his own selfish desires worth endangering you?

No, it wasn't worth it. Surely wasn't worth the risk but even a rational and composed man like him was bound to cave in eventually. That's how you ended up between the plush pillows on your bed, with Fyodor prettily sprawled under you. His hair was like a dark halo against your cream coloured pillow case, so silky you couldn't help but run your fingers through it.

"You're so pretty, Fedya" you mumbled between soft kisses, gently tugging at his roots. The man only hummed in response, his hips bucking up against your clothed core providing a much needed friction. Fyodor was on cloud nine, melting like cotton candy on your tongue as you deepened the kiss– his arms wrapped tightly around your hips, keeping you flush against him.

He wasn't used to such closeness between you– the way your love for him spilled from your plump lips into him, the hushed whispers and praises driving him closer to the edge. "Myshka... wait a moment" he chuckled weakly, his slender hands coming to rest on your hips, halting your movements but you wouldn't have it. Prying his shaky hands away from your body you resumed your movements, making the man whimper softly

"Fedya, my love, don't worry about it just let go. Relax..." you purred against the shell of his ear. Your hands trailed over his clothed arm— their touch electrifying, burning the bare skin underneath. Fyodor felt so helpless in your arms, rutting his hips against you as he pushed himself closer to the edge. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly as he tried to keep himself in check— strange, it was so strange how someone else's touch could make his hard exterior crumble. You touched his heart like no one else and still, he denied himself your comfort and love for so long... Now that he finally had it he was scared, overwhelmed, so weak in this unfamiliar territory.

You felt his hot tears against your skin before he was aware of them. "Fedya, you alright?" you asked sweetly, your lips brushing against his temple but he didn't answer. Instead, his mouth found your neck as he left wet, needy kisses along its expanse "'m sorry, dear think i'm gonna– shit i'm gonna cum soon" . His voice was cracked, barely above a whisper, betraying the desperate state he was in. A chuckle rolled past your lips as you cradled him in your arms. "Don't you wanna do it inside me, baby? I wanna feel you"

It took all the self restraint he had not to cum on the spot– his mind going blank at the thought of spilling himself inside you. You wanted this too, right? So there was nothing wrong with it... Still, as he stripped you of your blouse and panties, Fyodor felt as if he were ridding himself of all the beliefs and rules his religion imposed on him– but he was willing to do even that for you.

A choked moan left his throat as he slid inside you, filling you up inch by inch "S-so tight..." he huffed, squeezing your hips with his hands in attempt to ground himself. "All for you, my love. I'm all yours" you hummed, your silken voice raising goosebumps on his skin. You began rolling your hips against his at a steady pace, ripping moans and pleas from the man below you.

"Please Y/N slow down~" he mumbled, sniffling softly and you brushed the tears at the corners of his eyes with your thumb. "Shhh you're doing great Fedya. So, so good for me. Just focus on feeling well, okay? Let me take care of you"

Your words were so sweet and loving he felt he was actually going to pass out. The liquid heat in his lower abdomen spread in his whole body, numbing the nagging thoughts and fears. His breathing grew heavier as he felt his orgasm approaching and it didn't take him long to cum inside you, filling you up with his creamy seed. A content hum left your lips as you slumped next to him, relishing the silence that settled between you.

"Hey..." you said eventually, twirling a silky strand of his hair between your fingers. Fyodor's gaze lowered to meet your soft eyes and he smiled. "What, my dear myshka?" he taunted, and you were glad to see that he was slowly getting back to his usual self.

"Nothing" you giggled, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek that almost had him melting. "Just wanted to know if you're alright." Fyodor's hand found yours amidst the crumpled sheets, his thumb tracing idly along your knuckles.

"It was wonderful, really. It's just that I never felt like this with anyone else." he finally admitted. And it was true– there had been no one else in his life before and surely won't be after.

"Never ever?"

"Never" he insisted, watching the corners of your lips stretch into a soft smile. Your free hand finally abandoned his hair, sliding down to cradle his face as you leaned closer to him. Close, so, so close it had his stomach churning. It's as if you had him under your spell.

"Well, I'm glad" you added, nuzzling your nose against his "I wouldn't mind doing this again"

"And I wouldn't mind trying something more with you" he said back, his gaze unwavering as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Would you like to be mine? Officially, I mean"

You couldn't help but giggle at his serious tone "Is that a marriage proposal or are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Just my girlfriend, for now. So, will you say yes?" he chuckled, giving you one of those soft looks reserved for your eyes only.

"Yea, of course" you giggled "I mean it was about time you asked. I was starting to believe you were no longer interested"

In that moment, Fyodor wanted to confess his undying love for you, to reassure you that his heart was yours from now 'till the end of time, but he knew it'd be a bit too dramatic for him. So he simply sealed his promise with a kiss. "Silly girl. I could never get tired of you"

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor fluff #fyodor smut #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs smut #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

[strawberrystepmom]

the one

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 10k

about: in the aftermath of incredible loss and pain and nearly losing satoru himself, a week long road trip on one of the most famous routes in the world solidifies what you've already known to be true about gojo - he is the one for you & you for him.

contents: nsfw - mdni. established relationship (reader and gojo are engaged), story told through vignettes, major spoilers for ch 220 and beyond although the story is not canon compliant (gojo dies and is revived), major character deaths and discussion of them, descriptions of anxiety, panic attacks, and dealing with trauma, discussions about marriage and engagement, mentions of blood and injury.

gojo has an identity crisis, reader is a teacher and is appointed interim principal of the Tokyo campus, lots of flowery descriptions of nature and of my beloved california (i am not a california girl but i have longed my whole life 2 be one), gojo is referred to as husband, sweetheart, and baby, reader is referred to as wife, angel, pretty, and baby, reader has breasts, small smut scene with sensual and romantic unprotected piv sex, mutual body worship, vaginal fingering, creampie.

notes: if you have made it to this point and still want to read, thank you. this is a love letter spritzed with parfums de marly delina sent directly to gojo satoru from me and i'm very proud of this work.

he's so important to me and i think exploring him when he can't hide behind the veneer of being strong anymore is one of the most worthwhile uses of my time since ever. i hope that you enjoy ♡

wavy divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!!!!

One week.

One measly, little week - 168 hours or seven unique opportunities to see the sun rise and set - is all you’re asking to be granted while promising all but your limbs and hypothetical first born child to the acting principal of both the Kyoto and Tokyo campuses following the deaths of both Yaga and Gakuganji.

Utahime’s arms are folded over her chest and her mouth is set in a firm line while taking everything that has happened over the last month into consideration. Do you guys even have time for a break of any kind? 

Time, as you and her have both learned since that fateful night in Shibuya, becomes more difficult to quantify when you feel it’s slipping away. Every day since October 31st has felt like something each of you have had to earn rather than been given by sheer act of existence. It has been a fight since the moment each of you stepped foot into the railway station and now that it’s over, things feel so undefined. 

What comes next now that the immediate evil is gone? There will always be another threat of danger that appears as soon as one is eliminated and all that’s left of the sorcery community learned the hard way that sometimes that evil proves difficult without the man who has worked tirelessly to keep all of you safe around.

“Please. He needs this so badly and I know if I don’t force him to stop, he won’t.”

Your plea causes her gaze to shift from downward to your face and Utahime’s distaste for the man in question all but disappears when she looks over the concerned furrow of your brow and the dark circles under your eyes. She watched Gojo being whisked away to return to the Tokyo campus, the place where the two of you are sitting and having this discussion, ripped to all but bits but still throwing his thumb up to confirm he’s okay to everyone’s mixed annoyance and amusement. 

Contemplating every aspect of the situation for a moment, she comes to the conclusion that this week is something both of you need and there’s no viable way for her to tell you no. Not when you look so desperate, hands shaking and eyes sunken. 

Despite the mess you will be leaving behind, building debris and rubble the mere surface of the ripples caused in your small community and wider society by Satoru’s defeat of Kenjaku and Sukuna both within days of each other, she feels there’s no other option but to reluctantly give in.

“Okay.”

The tone of her voice is so tentative you’re expecting a but as her very next word but she shuts her mouth with finality written across her face. Grateful, you bow your head and blink back tears but she walks toward you and grabs one of your hands. She squeezes it gently, reminding herself to avoid the spots you broke it in 7 weeks ago and you find the sudden change in her demeanor concerning. 

Did she change her mind? Is he going to have to go from half dead on a cold metal table right back into the swing of things? 

“When you get back, be ready because you’re in charge here.”

The news comes as a shock and she can tell, your eyes widening and hollowing further. Bile rises in your throat and you swallow, blinking additional tears back, ashamed that your weakness is what represents the strongest individuals you’ve ever met and not just the one who your heart belongs to.

Iori doesn’t stick around for long to watch you come to terms with your new position, simply squeezing your hand and patting it with the back of her other one, before dropping it to slink off to her students that stand on the opposite side of the lounge everyone is occupying. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you use the time to balance yourself and remember that you can deal with the upcoming challenges when you return. What’s most important is the here and now and there are a few things you’re currently sure of. 

First, Satoru is alive and breathing despite the terror you experienced when he was not. Second, you have at least one week to contemplate your own future and in true procrastinator form, you will wait until the last minute to even begin processing the weight of the responsibilities that have been placed on your shoulders. 

“He’s asking for you.”

Shoko’s approach is stealthy and you don’t notice her until she’s pulling a glove off beside you, the snap of the latex making you forget the tidy little list you were creating in your head. She doesn’t look any more morose than usual and you take it as a good sign, awkwardly nodding and keeping your head pointed toward the ground to avoid prying eyes. 

It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know about the two of you but there’s no plausible deniability anymore. No coy smiles and playing it off like it’s no big deal, not when there’s an engagement ring nestled safely in its box on your nightstand at home and when he’s asking for you as soon as he wakes up.

The room is eerily silent as you shuffle out of it beside one of your oldest friends and this is where she finally drapes an arm around your shoulder, stopping you and crowding you off to the side of the hallway. 

“He doesn’t look like himself right now,” she warns and you nod. You expected it, his energy depleted by the time both battles were won, but you still swallow thickly and struggle to get the lump in your throat down. Once she’s certain you are okay, she nods and keeps her arm around your shoulder until you reach the metal door to her domain that separates you and the love of your life.

“I’m going to give you two some privacy but if you need me you know where I’ll be.”

You’re sure she’s grateful for the reprieve, catching sight of her puffy eyes as she turns to walk away. You stop her and she smiles wordlessly, friends for long enough that the two of you know what the other is thinking. 

Thank you, I know, I’m glad he’s okay too.

Pushing the door open you hear an exaggerated groan and a watery giggle bubbles out of you. He just can’t help himself, one arm wrapped securely and safely and the other still oozing through its bandages. His torso is exposed and you can see the blow that killed him firsthand, an unnaturally precise cut across his lower abdomen. 

This is the sight that chokes you up and he chuckles weakly, unable to lift his head more than a few inches. He does look different, covered in scrapes and cuts and blood of uncertain origin, but he’s still himself. Those dimples still stick out against his pale skin when he smiles weakly at you and despite its pinkish hue, his white hair sticks up on end like it always does.

“No crying, baby.”

Sniffling, you look toward the cold tiles below and he tuts from the operating table. Holding his cleanly wrapped arm up he curls a finger toward himself to beckon you over.

“C‘mere.”

Slowly, you do. Each footstep feels as though you’re walking across cracking ice and it makes you cautious, scared that you’ve deluded yourself into believing that he’s here and he’s fine and things are going to be okay and in the midst of the angst, suddenly you remember - he is. 

He’s in front of you and breathing and you can’t stop the tears from falling when you reach the edge of the table, reaching to cup his face in your palms like you always do. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Another weak chuckle and he wraps his hand around one of your wrists, delicately holding it with his thumb and index finger. 

“Didn’t you say that about the prison realm too?”

Nodding and sniffling, you smile and he smiles back. It’s warm and inviting and all you can think about is how you feared you’d never see it again; that he’d become another loss forcing you to grow colder and colder until the inevitability of becoming a husk like the other sorcerers in your life would come true. 

“Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I need some new material.”

A chuckle that turns into a wince makes you coo and his half smile instantly turns smug, one corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk. 

“I have always been the funny one, haven’t I?”

Scoffing, you don’t playfully swat at him like you always do and he misses it. The gentle swipe of your fingers across his pec or shoulder or arm to let him know he has entertained you is something he will not take for granted from this day forward. His chest tightens and his loose grip around your wrist tightens.

It hasn’t registered quite yet that he almost never saw you again twice. That realization will come painfully when he’s struggling to sleep some night, wrapping himself around your body to be certain you will never leave his side, as all of his realizations about his own mortality do. 

Until then he’ll embrace the reality in front of him.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he whispers and you see a shadow of sadness cross his face, smirk drooping into a frown. Your palms on his skin leech warmth into his tired bones and he shifts his head to lean into one of your hands, eyes fluttering shut and staying that way until he musters enough humility to say what he wants to say to you the most.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s still the coward's way out but he’s simply too tired and weakened to go into the specifics of everything he’s sorry for. Is strength even worth it if you still managed to save so few people you care about? The weight of the world remains on his shoulders and you carefully lean over him, pressing your cheek to his and shifting your hands from his face to his shoulders. 

“Oh sweetheart,” it’s a nickname you rarely use for him and it makes his heart leap to hear it even when your voice cracks. “You have nothing to apologize for. Never to me.”

He wishes he agreed with you. 

“Well, I am and nothing like this will ever happen again.”

The unspoken truth between both of you is that he said the same thing when he was released from the prison realm weeks ago and yet, this happened.

“You can’t control everything, Satoru.” You lift your cheek from his and glance down at him to see his eyes half open. “Nothing that has happened is your fault.”

Something else he wishes he could agree with. He gives you a small smile and you lean to kiss his cheek, shutting your eyes tightly to keep from breaking into absolute hysterics. You’ve been teetering on the edge for days but you know this is not the time for your usual dramatics, it’s time to hold it together for him like he has done for you so many times.

“But we can and should talk about this more on our trip.”

His half open eyes shoot open and he looks at you with uncertainty etched in all of his pretty features. 

“Trip?”

Currently, he’s in no condition to go anywhere except for hopefully home with you tonight, but a few more hours with Shoko and his cursed energy slowly returning should be enough to get the process of healing going but he knows you know that and wonders what your angle is. 

“Road trip. Very little impact, all we have to do is fly to California and don’t worry, I’ll drive the whole time.”

He smiles and chuckles, reaching to capture your hand in his own and lift your palm to his mouth. Kissing you gently, he sits up a little more now that he’s feeling stronger and you lean on the side of the table.

“How long?”

“I had to practically beg for it but we both have a whole week off. The road trip will be 5 days and we’ll have two days to travel there and back.”

Summarizing the trip aloud makes it feel real despite you having done no work to make it so, eager to see him and how he’s doing before making any solid plans, but you can tell that he’s interested based solely by the look on his face. Still, you worry it’s too soon and too much after everything that has happened.

“Do you want to? We can always hold off and do it another time if you don’t feel up to it.”

He shakes his head and kisses your palm again, molding your fingers to the curve of his face so that he can be held by you for just a little while. Your touch may not heal him physically but it fills the gaps in his soul, the little pieces he has been torn into since October 31st, and he needs it more than he needs another session of energy granted to him from Shoko right now.

“I want to go as soon as we can. Especially if I get to look pretty in the passenger seat the entire time.”

It’s so beautiful to have him come back to you a bit at a time and your heart swells until you’re afraid it’ll burst when you look down at him. His eyes are shut again and his cheek fits perfectly in your palm, just as it always does. 

He lived and now he gets to have a week by your side with no responsibilities. If he weren’t so comforted by your presence right now, certain you are real and tangible and holding him to the best of your ability in his current condition, he would believe that he’s still dead.

“I should let Shoko get back to work,” you say finally and he whines. A little bit more of him comes back with each passing moment and emotion swells again, your eyes burning when they start to well up. 

“I love you,” he whispers and you lean down to kiss him for real, your soft lips hungrily pressing against his dry and split ones for the first time since he left you and came back. It’s familiar and it sends you over the edge, tears breeching your closed eyes and dripping onto his cheek. He laughs, although it’s a bit hollow, and you back your face away from his.

“I told you no crying.”

You laugh and lean in to steal another kiss, his arm wrapping around your body and cupping your hip. The kiss grows in intensity, although it’s more a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths more than it is an earnest makeout session, and his hand slides from your hip to your ass just as the metal door screeches open.

“Save that for when I send him home with you tonight.”

Heels clack across the tile floor and you peel yourself away from Satoru, who keeps his hand firmly cupping your ass, turning your head to see Shoko snapping on a pair of gloves and walking toward her patient. You shoot her a grateful smile and she nods her head, letting you lean in for one more kiss before reluctantly parting.

“Man I love her,” you hear him mutter to Shoko who laughs and shakes her head as you’re leaving. 

“Yeah, I know. You never shut up about it even when you’re half dead.”

DAY 1 - SAN FRANCISCO, CA

Your flight landed three hours ago, 9 hours passing far more quickly than you expected. Satoru held your hand the entire flight and you let him have the window seat, watching clouds obscure the light dancing over his face every time he'd shift his gaze toward the sky outside. Looking at him never gets old, even with a baseball cap pulled over his face to obscure his injuries despite how much they’ve improved since days ago. 

Disembarking and entering the airport felt like going through the motions and you realized while grabbing your luggage that it has felt like that all day. It feels like just going through the motions despite everything and your excitement for the next several days and guilt gnaws at you because of it. Shouldn’t you be living every day, minute, second as joyfully as possible given Satoru is alive and with you? Why do you still feel so bad?

The feeling remains a mystery while the two of you gradually make your way out of the airport and into the cool city lying outside, your rental car already picked up and the keys jingling in your hand as you unlock the door to load everything up. Gojo takes the duties over for you and you smile at him gratefully, heading to the driver’s seat to get settled in.

“You alright?”

He has asked you many times today how you’re doing and your answer has been a polite nod and a smile each time, maybe a muttered “yeah I’m alright” if he’s lucky, but he can tell something is bothering you. Chalking it up to travel anxiety, he slides into the passenger seat and finally takes his hat off, chucking it aside. You watch his wispy hair fall over his face, the dark bruise on his cheekbone finally looking lighter than it did when you left Tokyo this morning and you genuinely smile for the first time all day.

“Hello handsome.”

Satoru chuckles and you laugh along with him, eyes crinkling at the corners. You aren’t sure if it’s exhausted delirium making you feel better but you allow yourself to feel at ease for the first time in weeks, settling into your seat and starting the engine of the mid size SUV that will be your chariot for the next several days.

“Do you wanna go straight to the hotel or did you want to stop somewhere first?”

He hums, thinking, and his stomach growls which gives him his answer.

“Let’s stop and get something to eat.”

You nod, tipping your head toward his phone.

“Your pick. Find a place and I’ll get us there.”

Picking the device up, he smiles at the sight of your face next to his on the screen, matching grins as big as your faces. Hopefully there will be opportunities for more photos just like that one on this trip despite how worn both of you feel right now. 

Even smiling sounds exhausting at this point but he musters one for you, opening the app with a little map as its logo, searching for restaurants near the airport. He wrinkles his nose at the list of chain restaurants and settles on a deli that looks easy to get in and out of, disinterested in a sit down meal. 

He turns the phone in your direction.

“Sounds good?”

You hum affirmatively and press on the screen, a digital voice through the speaker giving you turn by turn directions. You’ve visited San Francisco before and so has he, just not together, and the two of you smile contentedly watching the city roll by and you’ve arrived before you know it, parking on the sidewalk outside of the entrance. He grabs the cap he dropped onto the floorboards and slips it over his head, the bill covering his bruised eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you don’t notice he’s glancing at you until you turn to look at him and his brow is furrowed in concern. You are wound as tightly as he’s ever seen you and he worries this entire trip and the pressure of it is stressing you out more than you already are, the opposite of the desired effect. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, angel?”

Nodding, you plaster on a quick smile and reach for the door handle. 

“I think I’m just tired. I can’t remember the last time I slept well.”

He understands not to push any further despite lingering concern and he opens his door, stepping out into the cool evening and sighing contentedly, stretching his long limbs out. Still a little stiff from his injuries, he waits on the sidewalk for you to round the car and join him and wiggles his arms and hands. 

“You look so cute when you do that,” you mutter with a smile. For a moment, his concern quiets down but your face falls so quickly it comes straight back. Coming to his side, you clutch his hand as if it’s an anchor keeping you sane and nod in the direction of the door. “After you, baby.”

Gladly, he pulls you along with him and the bell over the door dings. It’s a small space and while not packed wall to wall, it’s more crowded than you expected on a weekday evening and you take it in stride, the overhead lighting making your eyes burn after a day spent in mostly darkness. Satoru leans down and kisses the top of your head, inspecting the menu hanging from the ceiling, keeping his mouth pressed against your hair and humming. It’s comforting and you appreciate the gesture, he knows you well enough to be able to tell when you’re struggling, but you can’t focus on what’s happening with the pit in your stomach growing wider by the second.

This room full of people has no idea what either of you have just been through. The weeks of hell, watching the man you love so much you’re afraid it will be your downfall, die in front of you and return like Lazarus himself, your best friend’s death. 

Your hands start to shake and your mouth runs dry.

They have no idea your fiancé just killed the body of a man he loved dearly for the second time or that children he assisted raising both lost their lives in the process. These strangers will never know or understand what happened, their lives continuing as carelessly and freely as they always have, and a lump develops in your throat remembering the responsibilities waiting for you when you return home. 

Your life has changed forever and the world keeps turning, a notion that is suffocating.

It has been years since your last panic attack but you recognize the feeling immediately. The room shrinks and you laugh nervously, balling your fists. Satoru recognizes something is wrong and tries to grab your attention, quietly mouthing words you can’t make out. Shaking your head and blinking, you laugh again and he uses his grip on your hand to gently guide you toward the door. He keeps his steps short and soft to make sure you stay with him until the two of you are able to find a way to slip outside. 

Bending at the knees slightly to come face level with you, he cups your face with your free hand and knits his brows together. If you can't remember the last time you had a panic attack neither can he and he wracks his tired brain to figure out how to make this better. You aren’t asking him to, just for his support, but he has failed to keep you safe and happy so many times he can’t bear to let you fall victim to your own mind while he stands and breathes beside you.

“Come on, let’s get in the car.”

Nodding, you can’t fight the tears anymore and they start to flow freely, dripping down your face and onto the sidewalk below as you let go of his hand long enough to skulk to the driver’s seat of the SUV. Opening the door and sliding in, the door has barely shut by the time you sob aloud, gasping for air and lifting your shaking hands to your face. 

Satoru grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pulls your hands down from your cheeks gently, using his other hand to position your head until you’re facing him. Seeing you like this utterly rends him, his own throat tightening watching you struggle to breathe. Without thinking, he does what he would do for his students in this situation.

“Can you breathe for me?”

Despite how sobs make your shoulders shake, you nod and try to inhale deeply through your nose. It still doesn’t feel like enough air but you panic less once it reaches your lungs, exhaling through your mouth.

“Oh, baby.” He hates that this is the only thing he can think of to say. There has and never will be a point where he’s better at words of comfort than you are and it intimidates him how his blindspots only come to light when people need him the most. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Without thinking, you blurt out the news you wanted to tell him after you returned home. 

“They’re making me principal.”

His eyes widen and he starts to grin but it dims as soon as he sees more tears fall down your face, your sniffling filling the car.

“They picked the best person for the job,” he comforts and you shake your head, refusing to believe that it’s true.

“They picked the easiest scapegoat. They’re going to kill me just like they did Yaga.”

The people who killed Yaga have been permanently removed from their positions by two of your students, their deaths coming just before Satoru’s battle with Sukuna began, but you still worry about what comes next. The clans now hold all of the power and if they’re angry enough over what occurred, you’re the person who will be on the hook to deal with it all.

“No one is going to do that, I would never let them.”

You sniffle and look away, brows furrowed while tears drip into your lap.

“What if it isn’t your choice, Satoru?”

A dark thought consumes the usually easy going man, his stomach turning. Has your faith in him wavered? Do you think he wouldn’t cut down anyone who dared try to hurt or upset you? 

“Look at me?”

You do, just as you do any time he asks, and he sighs defeatedly. Now your hackles are raised because you’re worried about him, sniffling and reaching across the car for him. You clutch onto his t-shirt and he lets you, the fabric spilling between your fingers.

“I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.” You’ve never seen him look so serious, no trace of humor to be found anywhere. No glimmer in his tired blue eyes, no upturned lip to reveal a dimple. You know he needs this confirmation and you nod, sniffling and pulling him closer to you with his shirt.

“Do you trust me?” You nod but it isn’t enough, his gaze still hardened. “I need you to say it.”

Swallowing to try and wet your dry mouth, you nod again and sniffle.

“I trust you with everything and I always will.” Another sniffle but you feel more normal, your breaths still coming quicker than usual but slowly steadying with each moment that passes. Keeping his shirt in your balled fists, you sigh and shake your head. “This isn’t about not trusting you, it’s about being afraid of what comes next.”

Now he understands. 

Your faith in him is unshakeable, something you have told him more times than you can count and meant every single one, but the future itself is terrifying. Nobody knows what is coming next, least of all you.

“I know but just like you always tell me, things will work out how they’re supposed to and if they don’t, I will kill anyone who is mean to you.”

Finally, this draws a watery laugh from you and he softens, posture slackening. His stomach growls again and you whine, upset that your own antics prevented him from doing what you two came here to do in the first place - eat.

“I’m sorry about this,” you mumble and he leans over the console to kiss your forehead. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’d rather get room service anyway.”

Sniffling again, you untangle your hands from his shirt and turn toward the wheel, positioning yourself to start driving again.

“Wanna go to the hotel then?”

He nods with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“Do you want me to drive?”

You shake your head, face looking far less distraught than it did a few minutes ago, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Will you really kill anyone who is mean to me?”

He hums exaggeratedly to accompany an animated nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he squeezes your shoulder with his arm.

“I’m a nice guy, what can I say?”

DAY 3 - MONTEREY, CA TO BIG SUR, CA

The California coastline glimmers beneath the sun and although you’re driving, you keep sneaking glances toward the edge of the highway, eyes widening every time something beautiful comes into view. You may as well keep them wide open, constantly amazed by the world surrounding you even as it breezes past while you drive.

Day 2 went off without a hitch for the most part, no panic attacks or the like occurring, but you noticed this morning that Satoru seemed quiet. His usual exuberance has been missing from your conversations, instead dimmed down into something that feels like an imitation of the man. You understand this is part of the process of coming to terms with everything that happens but you feel guilty, as if your outburst is keeping him from feeling comfortable enough to be himself.

It could also have nothing to do with you but it’s easier to blame yourself than it is to think about anything else that could possibly be bothering him, your tendency to fall on your sword even worse when it comes to him. The devotion he gives you is returned in full, your natural instinct always to keep him happy and away from anything that could hurt him as unfair as it can be to do so. 

You can’t protect anyone from sorrow, it comes as naturally as the waves wash up on the shore below you, all you can do is witness it unfold and hope it doesn’t become a tsunami.

The two of you have been driving in comfortable silence for miles, occasionally oohing aloud at the cliff sides, but it has become less comfortable now that you’re thinking about how it has been like this all day. You try to think of something to talk about but come up short, focusing on the road, and he captures your attention when he speaks.

“I saw them, you know. When I died.”

You raise your eyebrows but don’t look at him, keeping your focus on the road.

“Did you?”

Satoru nods and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, carelessly sticking his hand out of the small crack in the unrolled window. It isn’t big enough to let the chilly winter air through but it’s just wide enough for him to feel the wind at 40 mph with his Infinity off. 

“Yup, they asked me about you. How you’re doing.”

He doesn’t have to say who he saw but you know, gut churning. It’s unlikely that Kento would ask, given you were one of the last people he saw before meeting his fate but Yu and - as painful as it is to even recall his name sometimes - Suguru would. 

“What’d you tell them?”

“The truth.”

Raising a brow, you focus on the road ahead of you and drum your fingertips idly against the sides of the steering wheel hoping he’ll elaborate on what the truth actually is. The silence sits heavier than you’d like it to and you open your mouth to end it but he beats you to the punch, head tipped back against the seat he’s sitting in. 

“Told them about us and that we’re going to get married.” You smile and he watches your cheek curve, mirroring it with one of his own that fades quickly while he continues speaking. “Told them you’re probably doing pretty badly because I failed to keep you safe. That you have been dead already.”

Shooting him a glance out of the corner of your eye, it’s hard to convey exactly how his words affect you while navigating a vehicle down an elevated single lane highway. 

Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to exist vulnerably. You’ve always been the wall between himself and the world, the place where he has allowed himself to soften and take down all airs, but now he wonders what it would be like if he extended that beyond just you. Other friends, what remains of his family, his students. He could never fully give himself to anyone the way he has to you but it’s something to consider while he spreads his fingers and lets the wind blow through them.

Does he deserve any of this?

He didn’t keep you safe. He didn’t keep Megumi or Tsumiki or Nobara safe. He failed, yet here he sits by your side, cold air chilling the tips of his fingers. In an instant, he feels nothing, turning his Infinity on wordlessly and keeping his gaze locked on the trees rushing by his window while you consider what to say to help him right now. 

“It has never been your responsibility to keep me safe, Satoru.”

He chuckles humorlessly and swallows so thickly you can hear it even with the sound of air entering the car through the cracked window. 

“For my entire life, my only purpose has been to keep people safe. If I can’t do that, what can I do?”

Glancing at the road, you spot the shoulder and decide to pull off to the side, parking and turning on your lights. Satoru has been wordless and still for longer than you’ve ever seen him and your heart breaks imagining how he must feel right now. 

The weight of the world is a heavy burden to carry and he has done it since before he could form full sentences, a fact you forget because he wears the responsibility as though it’s a cloak he can shrug off at any time, but you know that he takes it far more seriously inwardly. His life has been wrapped up in grooming him to be not simply a protector, but the protector, the gatekeeper of the insular society the two of you are a part of.

“Look at me?”

You ask just as he asked you to do two days ago and he does, the quarter turn of his head giving you an actual view of his face for the first time all day. He looks better than he did yesterday, scratches and bruises healing far faster than they would otherwise as he restores his energy. His eyes meet yours for a minute and you catch the shimmer that means his Infinity is turned on and you look away from him to compose yourself. 

His carefully crafted facade has shattered at his feet - he’ll always be The Strongest but his weakness was exposed in the form of bleeding out, severed through the middle, on a battlefield. What is he supposed to do now? 

Your eyes turn toward him once again and you sigh though it holds nothing but concern and you unbuckle your seatbelt to shift your body until you’re facing him, knees pressed against the center console. He half smiles and chuckles to himself seeing you move and get comfortable but it dies as quickly as it came, his head still pressed to the headrest while looking directly at you.

All you can do is help him pick up the pieces and figure out who he wants to be now that he has the ability to choose. 

“You know I don’t love you because you’re strong, right?”

He shrugs.

“I’m sure it probably helps.”

“No, Satoru. I love you because you make me laugh and cry and get angry sometimes. You let me be myself and never ask that I be anyone different even though I’m sure it would make your life easier if I were less stubborn and set in my ways.”

Getting choked up, you stop yourself and his eyes stop shimmering, Infinity off. He reaches across the center console and holds your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it and feeling the puckered wounds that are becoming eerily smooth scars. Swallowing, you blink and will yourself to keep it together until you get through what you have to say.

“I love you because you are courageous and that has nothing to do with your abilities, that’s who you are in your heart. You care so much despite how little you try to show it and your devotion goes deeper than the ocean and you are loyal and…”

Trailing off, searching for the words to sum up how you feel about him, he squeezes his hand and you see a peek of him in the soft smile on his face. Tipping his head to the side, he widens his eyes.

“You forgot handsome.”

Despite being near tears, you laugh and he feels warmer just listening to it and witnessing the grin he loves so much spreading across your face.

“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on, even when you’re a little scraped up, don’t worry about that.”

Despite how difficult you have been to understand throughout various points in your decade long relationship with the man, he knows everything you’re saying is true or else you would not say it. You are too honest at times even if it’s sugarcoated to keep from hurting feelings but he knows you give him the most vulnerable form of yourself just as he does for you. 

He scrunches his nose and turns toward you, unbuckling so he can shift his body to face you. 

“Those sound like vows. Have you been practicing?”

Shrugging, you play his question off with a wry smile because he caught you. You still feel teary but blinking keeps any from coming and you idly play with his fingers and allow yourself to indulge in romance despite the heaviness still lingering between the two of you.

“Not necessarily practicing, just trying to figure out how to put how I feel about you into words because I don’t think the words I need exist.”

An arched brow is his response and you roll your eyes, tilting your chin toward the ground to hide your smile. He doesn’t want to coax anything additional out of you but the relief he feels knowing you still want to marry him despite everything that has happened is almost as comforting as the first breath he took waking back up after being healed enough to keep going by Shoko and Yuuta. 

He would be doing you both a disservice if he let you off the hook completely, though.

“So you still want to marry me?”

You scoff, lifting your head to look at him with a raised brow that mirrors the one he just gave you.

“Please. I’d marry you right now if you wanted.”

“Then do it.”

Opening your mouth to speak, you stop when the words won’t come, and he fills in the blanks for you.

“Let’s get married right now.”

“Satoru, we are in a car pulled off to the side of the road on one of the most famous highways in America.”

“So?”

At least his mood seems to have improved, the mischievous glimmer back in his eyes as he looks at where your hand and his take turns smoothing over each other. The two of you are always so sync even if you don’t realize it, seeking one another out like air, and you inhale sharply to keep from getting emotional once again.

“Okay. How do you wanna do it?”

He grins, shrugging.

“I guess we just say it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shoot at him despite the smile on your face and he leans across the center console to kiss you. It amazes you just how many different types of kisses this man can give you in the span of a few minutes, going from silly to sweet to sincere to sexy, but you’re grateful to be on the receiving end of each one. Your lips mold to his perfectly, no longer split and cracked the way they were a few days ago, and he pulls back from you with raised brows and meets your eyes.

“And you’re my wife.”

For as unceremonious as the event of apparently becoming his wife has been, you feel a rush of heat to your face when he says the word in reference to you and the way his gemstone eyes are gazing into yours tells you that he means it. You are his wife and as far as you’re concerned, just saying it is enough, you can worry about the rest later.

“Does that make you my husband?”

Smiling, he tips his head and leans forward to press his forehead against yours.

“I sure hope so.”

And so it begins, the rest of your trip as makeshift newlyweds, your heart pounding at the realization that this means forever. This is the commitment to one another you’ve both been anticipating and scared to make, you spent years running from him because you knew this was the only outcome, but with noses touching and two sets of eyes blinking at one another it has never been more apparent that you two were meant for this, for each other.

DAY 6 - MALIBU, CA - POINT DUME LOOKOUT

The final day of the trip has passed by at lightning speed, your flight leaving from LAX first thing in the morning. It feels correct that you’re spending your last few hours on some of the most beautiful soil on earth watching the sunset over the horizon in Malibu despite the cool air of the January day. The ocean glimmers and you can’t help but gasp in awe at what you see, feeling like a proverbial goddess staring at the open land below you.

“This is beautiful,” you mutter and Gojo joins your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He has a blanket and spare jacket tucked under the other, something to keep you both warm after the sun fully sets and the air grows colder.

“Almost as pretty as you.”

Rolling your eyes, you swat at his chest and suddenly every piece falls back into place. The past five days have been exactly what he needed to find himself, to return to who he is and who he wants to be, and it thrills him to think for even a moment that he may someday feel completely normal again. It won’t undo the things that have happened but it will help him make sense of them.

“Ouch,” he mutters playfully and you laugh, pulling the blanket out of the crook of his elbow and placing it on the ground below with a flourish and a shake of your hands. You instantly sink to the ground below, crossing your legs and sitting back with your hands bracing you. Satoru follows suit with an easy smile, sunglasses covering his eyes despite his facial injuries now being mostly gone. 

Sighing, you tip your head upward and let the sunlight warm it. 

Things are going to be okay, you tell yourself with an earnestness you couldn’t muster a week ago. This is exactly what you needed.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, contentedly watching seabirds drift by in the distance, but you sit up and turn to face Gojo, smiling wistfully watching the sunset on his features.

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about lately?”

He hums at your question, nodding emphatically.

“Of course.”

Turning your face back toward the sunset, you recall a moment you have been thinking about since the moment it happened, the night he called you his soulmate. It was in the thick of an emotional evening after a long day, the two of you indulging in some pillow talk before falling asleep. It was so easy for him to say, as if he never assumed anything else could be true. 

“Years ago you told me you’ve always known it was going to be us and I brushed it off as you running your mouth,” Satoru fakes offense at your words but you smile wistfully, shaking your head and looking down toward your crossed thighs, the sun suddenly becoming too bright to keep gazing at. “But it’s not a coincidence it has ended up being us two, is it?”

You feel guilty for leaving out Shoko and Utahime and the other friends and students you have met along the way but he knows better than anyone what you mean. He smiles back and captures your hand in his, your palms pressed together while watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean, cold winter waves lapping at the jagged rocks below the cliff you sit on. 

“Add clairvoyance to my list of skills because I called it, didn’t I?” Humor mixed with unwavering honesty, one of the things you love the most about Satoru, peeks through his every word and you feel so full of love it’s hard to do anything but finally stare at him, eyes squinting thanks to the last bright remnants of daylight. “Even back when you thought I was nothing but a pest with freakishly long arms I knew it had to be you.”

Giggling, you think back to those days that were a practical lifetime ago. Time seemed like it was endless, stretching on and on forever in sundrenched days lounging in the courtyard grass at school, and you assumed you had endless amounts of it. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, it’s all the same when you know you have theoretically at least six more decades to live. 

You were reckless with your feelings and even more so with those of others back then, the man next to you a frequent recipient of annoyed eye rolls and scoffs. He knows he deserved them all even if he gives you a hard time about them now, his boyish determination to impress you gradually buffing away your edges until none remained. 

To the uninitiated, it may appear he tamed you, buffed and smoothed you into perfection equal to his own, but anyone who matters knows better. Satoru remade you, as being loved unconditionally does to anyone. He loved you when you were scowling and spitting and swiping, refusing his friendship and certainly his affections, and he loves you now with your palm pressed against his while you gently breathe in brisk ocean air wrapped in his coat.

“Thank you for never giving up on me.”

He pulls you closer, chin resting on top of your head as it always does. No response comes and you don’t need one, content to listen to the soft puffs of air leaving his nostrils that ruffle the top of your hair. Weeks ago, you weren’t certain you’d ever hear them again. Now though, the mix of the roaring waves and his breaths and his heartbeat pounding against your back catch you off guard and you start to cry, a tear trailing down your nose. 

“Don’t do that. No crying.”

Despite the tears, you laugh. It’s impossible to do anything but when he looks down at you with his head cocked, a little mocking pout on his lips. Leaning up, you kiss him gently and he hums into it, thumb reaching to swipe the stray tear off of your cheek. Leaning back from him, you sniffle.

“Just a little? You know how I am.”

He shakes his head. How can he ever deny you anything? You’re his life, his reason, his world. His one.

“Okay, a tear or two for my little crybaby but that’s it.”

Whatever tears were welling up dissipate quickly when you start laughing and it wows you how it seems like everything is truly back to normal. The two of you glancing at one another like lovesick teenagers, the same as you did ten years ago, the same as you will for the rest of your lives.

“You were right, you know. We are soulmates.” 

He grins.

“That’s not something I hear from you often but I’ll take it.”

DAY 7 - TOKYO, JP

The 9 hours back home felt far longer than the ones passing on the way there but after a blissful week and an easy flight, you are home and you are clean and you are comfortable in your own bed.

Spread across the mattress in nothing but a towel, you listen to Satoru hum from the adjoining bathroom while he brushes his teeth, running water mingling with a song that kept playing on the radio during your trip that has been stuck in his head for four days. Giggling, you wonder if he knows you can hear him or if he’s truly in his own little world.

“Turn the water off, it’s wasteful!”

You playfully shout into the bathroom and you hear the water cease but the humming continues. He’s well aware that you’re listening and it’s glorious to see even more of him come home - his happiness returning and stabilizing over the last few days. You worried at the beginning of your trip things would never be the same and they won’t, of course, the losses you’ve both suffered more than any one person should have to, but they will feel good again and already do.

Speaking of feeling good, your husband (who is very insistent that you call him this despite no legal documentation of your marriage existing) saunters into the room with a towel low slung on his hips and you can’t help but let your eyes roam over every part of him. His arms are no longer bruised and scuffed, back to their defined and pristine glory. The face you know every contour of is back to normal as well, nary a trace of anything happening in the first place, but curiously - he isn’t devoting any energy to heal the scars across his torso. Small silvery slashes and the big one where Sukuna split him into two remain visible.

Your mouth waters watching him dry the ends of his hair with a towel and it’s no longer satisfying to merely look, you need to feel; to touch every piece of him to ensure he’s still here despite having done it many times over the last several days. Every touch will be like this for the rest of your life, you think, making sure he’s whole and real and yours.

“Come here,” you nod and tilt your head, flipping from your back onto your stomach and swinging your legs in the air behind you. Gojo hums, raising his eyebrows and sliding onto the bed next to you, leaning onto his side and propping his head up with a hand.

“What can I do for you?”

You giggle almost girlishly, fluttering your lashes for no particular reason other than to let him know that he still has the ability to fluster you a decade together later. Tentatively, you reach toward him and trace your finger over the scar through the middle of his torso, the flesh smooth and pearlescent.

“Keeping that one?”

He shrugs, looking down to see your single finger become an entire palm pressed against his abdomen, your fingers tracing small paths across his abs and chest. The muscles beneath your hand tense with each touch and you pull yourself to your knees, crawling across the bed to kneel beside him.

“Maybe I’ll get rid of it eventually. I have the choice, you know?”

That he does and you nod, understanding. Your hand continues to travel over his chest, smoothing over each of his pecs and your core flutters excitedly when your hand travels from his upper torso to the lower portion, fingers sliding beneath the knot of his towel. 

He looks over your body, the way that your tits are pressed together and spilling over the towel secured over them, eyes trailing from your cleavage to your shoulder where a jagged and angry scar of your own sits. It’s from an attempt to dismember you in Shibuya, to cleave your arm straight from your shoulder, yet you don’t let the fact that it’s there bother you a bit. 

Satoru’s cock starts to harden under his towel merely looking at you and you smile watching it come to life beneath the cotton covering it, pushing him backward and flat onto his back so that you can straddle him. Discarding your towel, you drop it on the floor next to the bed and lean over him, chests pressed together while your knees rest on either side of his hips. 

“Hello there,” he teases and you laugh, leaning down to kiss him and bracing your forearms on either side of his head. There is no time wasted on gentle kisses, opting instead for the type that sear as you pant into his mouth and feel his bulge pressed against your bare cunt. You grind against him, the friction from the towel over his cock making you whimper, and one of his hands finds your hip to hold you steady while you make yourself feel good. 

“You like that, baby?”

Humming affirmatively to his question, you drag yourself across his covered length for only a moment more and choose instead to sit up, giving him a full view of all of you. This is a sight he has been blessed with more times than he could begin to count but every time it feels like a gift, your breasts swaying as you steady yourself. His hand slides from your hip to your waist and even higher, thumb and index finger pinching your nipple and making you tilt your head back and moan.

“To think I almost never saw this again,” he mutters to himself but you hear it, leaning forward enough that your face hovers above his. You kiss the side of his jaw and he groans, cock so hard the towel has shortened by several inches while it fights to sit against his stomach as gravity intends for it to.

Kissing further down his jaw and his neck, you rest your face in the crook of his neck for a moment and sigh dreamily. You're already soaked, ready to slip him inside of you at any moment.

“To think I never saw this again,” you repeat back to him and sit up, reaching behind you to unknot his towel and push it off of his hips, looking over your shoulder and groaning at his pretty pink tip resting against his belly, glossy with precum. You look down at him with a slight pout, leaning in to kiss him while running your hands over every inch of his body that you can.

“Look at you, Satoru. You’re so beautiful.”

He’s no stranger to your compliments but he flusters a bit anyway, chest turning pink as his face heats up. His white lashes flutter as he looks down at you, your mouth pressing kisses into his neck and warm chest. You scrape your teeth over his nipples and it makes him whine, bucking his hips and pressing his heavy cock against your pussy.

"Fuck baby," he mutters, hissing when you press your hips down against him, the wetness seeping from you coating your lips and his shaft in return, your hips gliding easily over him. Your mouth remains occupied, pressing kisses lower down his abdomen and over the scars he hasn't yet healed. It's your responsibility to remind him that every single piece of him is as lovable and stunning as ever and you take it seriously.

"I need you."

The rasp in his words makes you smile and you nod, ceasing your kissing and straightening your spine so that you can press your tits against his chest again. There is zero space between your bodies, just how you prefer it. He reaches for his cock and groans, wrapping his fingers around the base, abandoning it to brush his fingers over your wet cunt.

"All that for me," he marvels, two digits sinking into you with ease and you arch your back slightly, letting him spread you open while grinding your hips down against his pelvis, the direct contact of his body on your clit sending sparks through you.

"Just for you, handsome," you smirk against his neck and he crooks his fingers inside of you, brushing the spot he knows drives you wild. You moan and he pulls his fingers out of you, your cunt clenching in protest only for him to immediately replace them with the girth of his cock, your walls stretching to accommodate him.

"Feels so good," you whisper and he hums, hands coming to your hips to keep them steady while he thrusts upward into you slowly, sinking himself to the base methodically, shallow thrusts pulling him nearly out of you.

He's greedy though, undeniably addicted to the way you make him feel, and keeps enough of himself inside of you that you are unable to even begin to miss the way he feels. Your walls clench around him, keeping him secured inside and your hips grind lazily despite his grip on them.

The pleasure is mind numbing but you keep yourself alert, moaning softly while he throbs inside of you. More lazy thrusts met with slow and passionate grinding make you moan on unison, lips finding each other. Moaning into each others mouths, occasionally brushing tongues and kissing, you're overwhelmed with nothing but pure love knowing you have this to look forward to forever.

Forever sounds like a long time but you can't think of any better way to spend it than with your Satoru.

"You gonna cum baby?"

He asks and you nod, your walls gripping him tightly. His thrusts speed up, the sound of skin on skin filling your bedroom. The mind is a powerful tool and despite this being quite possibly the least active sex the two of you have ever had, you're so in love with him your body does what it does naturally and that's cum around his cock, clenching and pulsing to let him know how much all of you loves all of him.

"I love you," you babble against his mouth and he chuckles. "I know baby, I know."

Your hips still and you let him hold you in place, his back arched as he thrusts fully in and out of you, his own release slowly coming over him. His eyes flutter shut and he stays buried inside of you, ropes of his cum filling you and seeping out around the base of him, dripping down onto the towel below him.

You don't say a word, sinking into his chest while he softens inside of you. Talking feels unnecessary when your body itself says so much but the big mouth is back to normal so the blissful silence doesn't last for long.

"I love you too, by the way."

At least he's being sweet.

Giggling, you kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, clinging to him while he moves from your mouth to press kisses into your hairline.

"So," he starts and you look up, hovering off of his chest enough to look him in his eyes. "When are we telling everyone that we're married?"

"Let's make it legal first, yeah?"

He pouts but it is replaced quickly with a wry smile and you sink back down to rest against him, cheek pressed into his collarbone. The news surely won't come as a surprise to anyone but you want to make sure it's set in stone before letting everyone know.

"Let's go first thing in the morning."

His eagerness makes you laugh but you acquiesce, knowing there's no excuse to wait. You spent enough time fighting off the inevitable that for once, you're glad to just sit back and enjoy the ride, especially when you're enjoying it by Satoru's side.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoken #this is an entry to satoken canon yes #kendall writes

[yuujispinkhair]

Wildest Dreams

You're supposed to write an article about a charity event at The Shrine, the casino of the Itadori family, but soon get swept away by the Yakuza Prince himself. It's probably a bad idea to get close to a dangerous man like him, but he's so tall and handsome as hell. Why not allow yourself to live your wildest dream, at least for one night? -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @cometcoffee103 requested the song Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift for Yakuza!Yuuji.

Pairing: Yakuza Prince!Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, Yakuza AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, a bit of smut (not very explicit), taking pictures during sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of organized crime. This story is set in the same universe as my Yakuza AU, but you don't have to read that to understand this story. All you need to know is that Yuuji is the younger brother of the Yakuza King Sukuna, and this version of Yuuji is a bit of a playboy, but in a very sweet and charming way ;) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The casino is bustling with people, all of them dressed to the nines, including you. But you feel out of place here, despite the nice dress you are wearing and the red lipstick you put on. Everyone around you is someone important, someone insanely rich or influential, politicians, actors, businessmen. And Yakuza.

You gulp hard. Your hand trembles a little as you bring your wine glass to your lips to take a small sip. You shouldn't even be here. You usually only write short lifestyle articles for your magazine. It was your boss' job to attend the charity event in The Shrine, the biggest casino in the whole city, the casino of the Itadori family, one of the most powerful Yakuza clans in the country.

But two hours ago, you received that fateful message: "Put on your nicest dress and hurry to The Shrine. I'm at the hospital and can't make it. I need you to write the article about the charity event. And try to add something personal about the Itadori brothers! That will get our readers hooked."

And so you are standing here, clutching your wine glass while trying to blend in with the millionaires around you, feeling the hairs on your arms stand up as you wonder how many of them are criminals.

You don't even see him coming until he is right in front of you, moving gracefully like a tiger. A broad smile lifts his lips, and golden eyes meet yours.

"Hey, don't you like the wine? Should I get you another drink?"

You take in a sharp breath. You know the man in front of you. Of course you do. 

Itadori Yuuji, with his pink hair and golden eyes. Tall and muscular in his tailored black suit with a pink dress shirt and black tie. Looking just as rich as he truly is with the diamonds sparkling in his ears and the gold rings on every finger. But the scars on his handsome face also tell a story about the other life he is living. His life in Tokyo's underworld.

He is one of the people you got sent here for. The Young Tiger. The Yakuza Prince.

Your heart flutters nervously. But you force yourself to get a grip and be professional. And so you clear your throat before smiling politely at him and shaking your head,

"No, thank you. The wine is perfect, Mr Itadori."

He blinks and then throws his head back and laughs heartily.

"Ahh, please don't call me that! I am Yuuji for someone as cute as you."

Oh?

For a moment, you are caught off guard by his directness and the shameless flirting. But the Itadori charm is well-known. Both Itadori brothers are infamous for being big flirts and playboys who collect women just like they collect fast cars and expensive jewelry.

He points at the press card dangling on a chain around your neck,

"You're here to write about the charity event? How lucky that you ran into me! I can tell you everything you want to know. Come with me!"

You hastily follow him, not daring to waste this chance to get the article your boss demanded from you. And also not daring to turn down the Yakuza Prince's offer.

You spend the next fifteen minutes in a fancy VIP booth while Yuuji answers your questions for your article. Though half of the time, he is blatantly flirting with you. He isn't shy about it. Clearly, a man used to always getting what he wants. The spoiled Prince of Tokyo's underworld.

But you have to admit that his boyish charm works on you. Somehow, his loud laugh and broad sunshine smile make him seem less intimidating than his name suggests. If you didn't know who he was, you wouldn't even be nervous around him. He is so sweet somehow, making you laugh and feel more at ease at this event where you feel so out of place.

And his good looks certainly work their charm on you, too. He looks dashing in his suit, which accentuates all his firm muscles. The undercut and the pink hair on top look sexy on him. You realize that you have unconsciously scooted closer to him.

His golden eyes look thoughtfully at you, making your heart jump. 

"You don't look like you enjoy this event very much. I hate these things, too. All those boring people who try to talk business with me, and no one dares say something funny. I don't know how Sukuna is able to endure this all the time."

He sighs and rolls his pretty eyes. The eyes that then land on the low neckline of your dress. His smile grows bigger, and your breath quickens. Yuuji's large, warm hand lands on yours, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, cutie, let's leave this boring party, ok? Let's drive out of the city, away from the crowds. We can have some fun, and you can get an exclusive interview with the Yakuza Prince! Not just boring facts about this event, but more personal things. How does that sound?"

Everything in you screams to say no. It's insane to leave with the Yakuza Prince. He might not be as dangerous as his big brother Sukuna, but he is still a powerful Yakuza who can easily kill someone, as the scars on his pretty face prove. It's crazy to imagine getting in his car and driving to an unknown place with him. It's wild to imagine being alone with him.

But somehow, you find yourself biting your lip and nodding as you lift your head to look up at his handsome face. Somehow, your heart is beating so fast that you feel dizzy. Somehow, your skin tingles with excitement. You know you want to go with him. Even though you know there is a high chance this is going to take you down, you can't bring yourself to say no.

And so the words leave your mouth,

"Ok, let's go. Let's sneak away."

Yuuji smiles his bright sunshine smile at you, just as dazzling as the diamonds sparkling in his ears and the various gold rings on his fingers. There's a cheeky glint in his golden eyes,

"I'm very good at sneaking away."

He grabs your hand and pulls you with him, striding with fast steps through his casino, and starts running when you're halfway out the door, laughing loudly, as if he is relieved too to finally leave this fancy event behind. As if he is finally free.

He leads you to his car, a red Porsche, his favorite one, as he lets you know while he holds open the door for you, so charming that you can't help but feel light-headed from all the butterflies in your stomach.

Yuuji drives like someone who knows this city belongs to him. A bit too fast, the music a bit too loud, but it's perfect the way it is. It makes your pulse flutter and your body fill with a giddiness you can't remember ever feeling before.

You leave the city behind you, making an excited tingle start under your skin and spreading through your whole body. It feels like an adventure. Exciting, bubbly. As if your wildest dreams are coming true.

Yuuji parks his car on top of a cliff, turns off the engine, and turns to you with his big sunshine smile.

"So, what are your questions for me, princess?"

You laugh softly,

"Well, my boss said I should try to add something personal about you or your brother. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? Not about the Yakuza Prince. Tell me about Yuuji."

He smiles and leans closer to you, his large hand cupping your cheek while his golden eyes travel slowly over your face. His thumb caresses your cheek, the gold ring on it gliding smoothly over your skin. Yuuji's voice is low, and you can hear the smile in it,

"Then let me tell you a secret. I hate all those stiff, formal events. I rather want to go clubbing or play video games with my friends. I enjoy spending time at my pachinkos and making my best friend Megumi play the arcade games against me, even though I know I suck at those games. And I like to hang out at my pizza delivery service. I don't care that it's only for ... tax-saving purposes. I love pizza! I want to adjust the recipes and make the best pizza in the whole city! That is my new passion!"

His eyes glitter excitedly while his voice drops to a softer tone, low and almost seductive,

"And I like this here. What we are doing right now. Drive out of the city and look at the sunset. I know I can see it from my penthouse, too, but it's not the same."

His words could sound arrogant, the words of someone who grew up rich and has no idea how normal life works. But he doesn't sound like that. There's an almost melancholic tone to his low voice. As if this evening with you, where he ran from his obligations and the glittering fancy party, is his wildest dream, too.

A soft smile lifts your lips, and you catch yourself leaning into his large, warm hand as you look deeply into those gorgeous golden eyes,

"Then let's stop this stupid interview and just enjoy your free evening."

His answer is a broad, boyish grin that makes your stomach flutter. You chuckle when Yuuji leaves the car and comes over to your side, opening the door for you like a gentleman and offering his hand to lead you to the fence at the end of the cliff, where you have a majestic view over the ocean and the beginning of a beautiful sunset.

But your gaze strays to the man next to you. The Yakuza Prince. Or out here, just Yuuji.

You look at him, at his side profile, hit once again by how good he looks. So tall and handsome as hell in his tailored black suit with the light pink dress shirt and black tie. More stunning than any sunset could ever be.

Yuuji turns his head, catching you staring at him, and laughs happily as he reaches out to wrap a strong arm around you and pull you in front of him, making your pulse flutter with how easily he can manhandle you.

He stands behind you, so tall and strong, his muscular arms wrapped around you, holding you safely, his body pressed against your back, warm and buff. You can feel his firm muscles and smell his sexy and expensive perfume.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his kisses on your neck.

You tilt your head back to rest against Yuuji's shoulder as you look up at him and are met with a smile even more beautiful than the sunset.

A warm, large hand cups your chin, and then soft lips capture yours in a slow, sexy kiss that makes your knees weak. Who would have thought that the Yakuza Prince would be so gentle when he kisses you for the first time?

You have no idea how long you kiss him. You get lost in the feeling of his warm lips on yours and his tongue caressing yours with those deep, sexy flicks. Your hand is tangled in his pink hair as if you don't ever want to let him go again.

The two of you only pull apart to watch the rest of the sunset, with Yuuji's arm around you as you lean against his strong body, unable to stop smiling while your pulse races and your heart hammers in your chest, your skin tingling all over from the sheer craziness and excitement of it all.

+++

"Do you want to spend the rest of the night with me?"

Your heart misses a beat at Yuuji's question. You feel dizzy when you turn around in his arms to look up at his handsome face.

The deep scars across his nose and on the side of his lips tell you about the dangerous life he leads. His title tells you about how dangerous he himself is. You know he is bad, so so bad. But you cannot bring yourself to turn him down when he smiles that big smile at you. You cannot say no to him when every fiber of you craves him, if only for one night.

And so you nod and place a hand on his broad chest, playing with his black tie as you breathe softly,

"Yes, I can't think of anything else I would rather do."

And he smiles that attractive boyish smile at you and leans down to kiss the corner of your lips,

"I will always remember this evening. The pretty sunset, with an even prettier girl. You in that dress, with your red lipstick and the sweet kisses. Please tell me you'll always remember it, too."

You nod happily before cupping his cheeks with your hands and getting on your tiptoes to kiss him again, breathless and passionate, before whispering against his lips,

"Say you'll see me again after tonight, Yuuji."

And his arms tighten around you, strong and muscular, and he nods,

"Of course I will."

You don't hesitate when he leads you back to his car and holds the door open for you. You smile when his large hand lands on your thigh on the drive back to the city, slipping under your dress to caress your inner thigh, dangerously close to your already-soaked panties, making your heart beat wildly as you grab the leather seat. 

You giggle breathlessly when he leans over and kisses you at a red light, making your head spin with the sexy flicks of his tongue before he pulls away again.

You eagerly say yes when he asks if he can accompany you to your apartment. Your dress is already halfway off by the time you manage to unlock your door in between passionate kisses.

You moan when Yuuji's large hands knead your ass and his warm lips suck on your neck. You palm the hard bulge in the Yakuza Prince's fine suit pants all too happily, gasping at how big and hot he feels. You leave a trail of clothes on your floor, leading to your bed, where you spend the best night of your life.

Ruffled sheets, the rhythmic beating of your heart in synch with the headboard banging against the wall. Yuuji's heavy body on top of you, pressing you down so deliciously into your sheets. Loud laughter, even louder moans, and dirty whispers in your ear. Kisses and lipstick marks all over his tan skin. His clothes on your bedroom floor, your hands in his pink hair. Every inch of you brimming with pleasure while you're tangled up with Yuuji's strong body all night, finding utter bliss on his sweet mouth and his gorgeous cock. Smiling when he asks you to please let him take a picture of you while you ride him.

Tomorrow morning, he will leave, get in his sportscar, drive back to his fancy penthouse, and continue to live his fast life as the Prince of Tokyo's underworld. You don't know if this will only be one night and you'll never stand before him in person again after this. But you know you both will always remember this night.

And you will see him again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams.

AAAHHHHH thank you so much for this prompt, babe!!! I was so happy to write for Yakuza Prince Yuuji again aaaahhh!! I am crushing so much on him all over again omgggg ��💗💗 I NEED HIM BAD!!!

I hope you liked staring at the sunset and staring at sexy Yuuji ;) Please let me know what you think!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #itadori x reader #itadori x you #yuji x reader #yuji x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #yuuji smut #yuji smut #itadori smut #yuuji x y/n #itadori x y/n #yuji x y/n

[reallyromealone]

Hear me out. Bonten Mikey x omega male reader

A few years after mikey and m/n broke up, mikey discovered that m/n has a 6 year old daughter who looks like a copy of mikey, and mike like connects rhe timeline and realizes m/n was pregnant at the time of their break up but m/n never told him bc he didnt want his kid to be involved in the mafia/gang shit

-🐰 (late birthday gift for me 🥹?)

It's A VERY LATE FIC I'M SO SORRY

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(Name) smiled as he put his little pups hair in pigtails, her bangs/fringe pinned back with a cute bubble hair band, today they were visiting Draken and Inui and little (daughters name) wanted to dress her best for her favorite uncles--- don't tell the others.

(Daughters name) was (name)s world, the sweetest little pup in the world who was absolutely precious.

Though sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was literally a spitting image of her father-- (name) never realized how feminine Mikey looked till his pup came into the world, but he loved her so much. She was the kindest and most selfless little thing ever. It wasn't the easiest at times but with the support of his friends he managed. Just starting first grade, (name) was thankful to work at the bike shop and being able to collect his little sunshine.

"Don't forget the cookies papa!" (Daughters name) said excitedly as left for their visit, without a care in the world.

Many would ask "where's the sire" upon learning (name) was a single parent, the question annoying and invasive but (name) always lied and made up an excuse about the father being overseas and such.

He refused to let anyone know about the actual reason, that being (daughters name)a father was the most dangerous man in Tokyo, (name) was thankful as much as he was hurt that Mikey dumped him.

He refused to let anyone go through what he did with Kanto Manji Gang.

With what Mikey was quickly becoming.

It was sheer /fucking/ chance that Mikey was waiting for the light to change in his limo as (name) stood at the cross walk holding hands with--

Holy s h i t.

"...boss are you seeing what we're seeing" Kakucho and Sanzu stared in Shellshock as they looked at a tiny Mikey with pigtails and a little dress, all of them doing the mental math and coming to a quick realization that holy fuck (name) was pregnant.

He was pregnant that day, oh my god that's what he wanted to talk to Mikey about!

"What are your thoughts on kids?" (Name) asked awkardly as they ate dinner, Mikey surpisingly home for once to do so "annoying, would get in the way" the blond said simply "a liability"

(Name) forced himself not to place his hand on his stomach, anxiety riddling his body "I see..."

"Why?"

"Just curious"

Mikey was always so disinterested in (name) these days, (name) always suspected that he was cheating, never saying anything though.

(Name) wanted to just scream.

Mikey remembered that night.

It was the night Mikey dumped him, a rash decision on his end and during one of his dark impulse moments.

He immediately regretted it after, the pained look on (name)s face and they hadn't seen each other since.

(Name) had many expectations of life, but seeing his ex sitting on his couch after he put his pup to bed, noticing the other Bonten men guarding the apartment "the fuck are you doing here" Mikey expected (name)a hostility and glanced up "that's my kid"

"What do you want Mikey" (name) wasn't having any conversation, he wanted to know what the hell he was doing here "I want to meet my kid"

"And get involved in your bullshit? Absolutely not! "Babies are a liability" remember that Mikey?" He hissed out and Mikey sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy "I deserve to meet her"

"You lost that chance when you broke up with me, I'm not letting my daughter deal with your shit, Mikey you're /dangerous/! She's six and I don't want her to ever go through what I went through!"

"I can keep you both safe!"

"YOU COULDN'T EVEN KEEP ME SAFE!" (name) was crying at this point, so angry at his once beloveds audacity"I kept her away for a reason Mikey, you are dangerous! She gets to play with her friends and have sleep overs! Has sleep overs at the friends you left behind! She gets to have a childhood that isn't currupted!"

"Why can't you let her have that?" (Name)s voice was broken and his body shaking, he would sacrifice everything for his daughter and at this moment he would stand his ground.

Bonten would poison her.

"Can...can I just please /know/ my daughter"

(Name) was tired, he was tired of it all "if you can /promise/ me that nothing will happen to her, I will let you meet her but one slip up Sano and I will never let you see her again"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #male reader #bonten x reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #mikey tokyo revengers #anime x male reader #anime x reader #angst

[risuola]

SAY MY NAME — F. READER x GOJO SATORU, who you matched with on the dating app

Internet is such a weird place. Never in your life you thought that you'd go to bed with a complete stranger that you met through the internet, but when you found yourself standing in front of the room in one of the most expensive hotels in Tokyo, you somehow thought now more about the man himself than the very obvious fact that you should not go but run home. But then he opened the door.

cw: smut (duh), anonymous, overstimulation, one night stand, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering, cum play if you squint, strangers to lovers? (I couldn’t help myself), reader discretion is advised — 7,8k words

masterlist

Avoiding strangers was like a second nature to you – you were taught from the youngest age that danger awaits on each and every corner of the world, especially when the night falls, and you lived your life to dodge it. Years and years you isolated yourself from risks, you stayed at home when your friends partied, you drank modestly, while they were blacking out. You were responsible enough to never get yourself into any serious trouble. But those things are what makes you gravely boring, and your closest friend made sure you taste some fun.

That’s how you ended up in front of a room 777 in one of the most expensive hotels in Tokyo. Everything around you dripped with luxury – the dark, marbled floors glossed to the perfection despite many shoes that walked through them hundreds of times every day; the deep green walls garnished beautifully with decorative, golden panels at the very top of them; the intricate crystal chandeliers twinkling with the most expensive rainbows in the soft light, lighting your way from the elevator through the long hall. Your high heels tapped softly against the gleaming tiles with every step you took, echoing in the silence of the corridors. And then, there’s the door – large and crafted from dark, nearly black oak wood with dainty, golden numbers situated on the top half of them.

While you studied the twirly, and yet simple font of the digits, you couldn’t help but wonder if the echo of your quickened heartbeat also bounced along the halls. You for sure heard it a little too clearly in your ears, someone could probably scream next to you and the sound of blood being pumped inside your veins would make you deaf to that. Was it stress or excitement, you couldn’t tell. You were just so out of place here – not only in the ridiculously overpriced interiors but also in the situation itself.

"Go and have as much fun as you can", your friend told you just few hours ago when you were nervously getting ready for a date that you set yourself up with a complete stranger from the internet. You met him through the dating app that your bestie forcefully installed on your phone, creating an account for you and swiping right on everyone that she deemed even remotely attractive. It wasn’t your thing, you never tried online matching, but to avoid hours of lecture about how your boringness will one day kill you, you went with it. Exchanging few anonymous messages with strangers couldn’t hurt, right? You might even meet someone valuable there – that’s what you thought, but quickly it turned out that men in the internet tend to send dick pics quicker then they say hello, and that wasn’t exactly what you wanted to see. But then, there he was. Another man that swiped right on you and you really have no idea how it came to the fact that now you were in the hotel, just one piece of wood away from him. He didn’t give you his name, he never send you any picture and was way too honest about what he expects from you, but maybe that was what intrigued you. No unnecessary saccharine, no charming words – just straight up offer and maybe it’s due the three shots of vodka that your friend poured into you, but you typed “I’m in, where?” quicker than you could sober up. When you did, it was too late for backing out.

Many things were running through your mind as you mindlessly looked at the seemingly lucky trio of sevens at the entrance to your one-night fling. There was the obvious fear that you were indoctrinated with from childhood that meeting strangers inevitably leads to abuse, trafficking and death and to say that the vision of yourself in a body bag didn’t cross your mind would be an awful lie, but you did everything to distract yourself from it – and by everything, you mean babbling with your friend. She was more excited than you for that date but probably expected you to chicken out anyway. She even told you that she’ll stay on standby to pick you up from the hotel and cheer you up if things go wrong – she was also ready to storm in and kill the dude.

Next thing that worried you was the lack of pictures – he was apparently a 28-year-old man, handsome – if you were to believe him, and yet, you had no proof of that. He might as well be an old, greasy perv hunting on young ladies. You should turn around and make your way to the nearest exit, that’s what you should do. But you didn’t. Instead, you smoothed out light-blue dress that you decided to wear, you brushed your hair back with your fingers and took a deep breath, raising a hand in which you clutched the key card to unlock the doors.

You didn’t reach the electronic lock, because dark oak in front of you swung open and what met your eyes exceeded all of your expectations. He was tall, much taller than you, his head almost as high as the upper doorframe. White hair were framing his incredibly handsome features. It honestly shocked you how good looking he was – the eyes, so mystically blue, as if the entire ocean flowed and twinkled inside his irises, surrounded by long, white eyelashes. Straight nose, lips that looked softer than you’d consider legal amount and the face that although manly, held some femininity to it, making him look just unreal. His body, slim and visibly fit, dressed half-casually in simple dark pants and the light-blue button-up shirt tucked into them. His sleeves were rolled up enough to expose his forearms and two buttons from the top were left open. Quickly, you understood why he spared any pictures in his profile. He had to. You weren’t sure if the app could withstand the demand he’d have if he published his visuals.

“Hey there, stranger.” The man smiled, his eyes scanning your silhouette from your head to your toes and right back up and by the content painted on his lips, you assumed he wasn’t disappointed with the view. You for sure were not disappointed with him. “Thought you’ll never enter so I figured I might as well let you in myself.”

“S-sorry,” you muttered and cleared your throat from the pathetic stutter that seemed to take the best of you. Then, you tried again. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no worries, sweet thing. Come inside.” With that, he moved slightly to the side, and you made a step forward, crossing the threshold and entering the beautiful suite that he chose himself. You were told at the reception that it’s one of the most luxurious apartments in the building because of the stunning view that spreads itself through the big, full-wall-sized windows. It was, indeed, breathtaking, and for just a moment it distracted you from your date. You put your little bag down and allowed him to take off your jacket before you approached the panorama behind the clear glass. Night sky illuminated magically, influenced by the cacophony of colors that radiated from the never-sleeping city below it. Tokyo during late hours was one of the most mind-blowing images an eye can experience – it’s bright and vibrant, filled with neon lights and colorful banners that in the darkness grow even more vibrant.

Satoru watched the way your hips swayed left and right while you made your way slowly towards the windows. He couldn’t blame you; the view was impressive and put it on the many times he’s seen it, but he found you much more interesting. You were more than he expected, taught by the way women edit their pictures to look better than they usually are, but you – you were more gorgeous than on the picture that your profile was equipped with. In all honesty, if it was only for the photo, he probably wouldn’t even swipe for you – it wasn’t the sharpest, the light was shit, your face wasn’t all that visible and it looked like it was taken in a rush, maybe even by surprise (which it was), but there was something so raw about it that interested him. But live? Fuck, he was hard from the moment he saw you and it never happened to him before. Usually, he’s the one that needs some work to get properly aroused during those flings – often he’s straight up unable to find the person attractive enough to pursue with the night and he excuses himself with some shitty bluff about his sick grandmother. Now, as he had a chance to inhale the sweet, floral scent of your perfume, that his fingers brushed against the bare skin of your shoulders when he took your jacket off, that his eyes were able to take all of you in, he wanted nothing more than to be inside of you already. And probably, he would if not for the visible nervousness, so he took this little bit of time you needed to admire the panorama of Tokyo to admire the picture of you.

He had no idea why you chose to wear a dress that matched his eyes so perfectly without ever seeing them, but just as his eyes laid on your frame with ease, so was the garment. It was short, but somehow still looked innocent on you. The fabric hugged your waist tightly, flaring up slightly below it, crating a skirt that flowed with the movements of your steps, bouncing slightly off your hips, hypnotizing him with each sway. The top half fitted your chest perfectly, the ruched details adding even more volume to your breast and the low, square-ish neckline accentuating your collarbones and shoulders. Two, slightly puffy, short sleeves added you some innocence that Satoru couldn’t wait to stain, but for now, he needed to have a taste of you.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” The soft, honeyed tone reached your ears once again and you could tell there was the slightest line of amusement underneath the pleasurable melody of his words. His voice was just as attractive as the rest of him, you just met him and already knew that you could listen to it every day if given a chance. A soft purr formulated in your throat at the feeling of his lips pressed to the side of your neck, from where he gently pushed your hair away. The gesture so feather-like and yet it sent shivers down your spine, making you suddenly hyperaware of his entire being next to you.

“It is.” You gave it a nod, feeling another sparkle of excitement rushing through your nervous system, when his hand landed on the small of your back and smoothed to the side to caress your hip. Another kiss, this time a little wetter, a little more intense was planted on your neck and you exhaled.

“Call me unoriginal, but I truly think you’re prettier,” he muttered against your skin, inhaling the sweet note of your perfume, his fingers squeezed the soft flesh of your side as he pulled you a little bit closer.

“I’m not going to lie, you also top that view by a mile.” It left your lips in a tone that mixed with your breath. Encouraged by his movements, you shifted your stance to face him completely, leaning your head back enough to give him the access to your throat, where few more wet marks appeared in no time. Then he straightened up, looking at your face once again and underneath his now darkened gaze, you felt the knot already tying itself up at the bottom of your stomach. There was something unreal with the way he was staring at you – an admiration stirring with the blue of his irises that surprised you. Why would a man like this look at you as if he wanted to devour you on the spot?

“Is that so?” He grinned, a smug expression twisting his features into a sexy smirk.

“I’m almost unsure if I can even touch you.” Your confession made him chuckle. His large palms left your waist only to grab your, much smaller hands, placing them onto his own body and as he moved them down slowly, you could tell he was just as toned as he looked like – or maybe more. Rock hard muscles bulged underneath your fingertips, fueling the want you already were filled up with.

“I assure you, I want nothing more than your touch,” he purred once more, lowering his head and instinctively, you leaned in to meet his lips halfway, but he stopped right before they touched. “If there’s any hesitation, you can still leave, I won’t stop you. But when we start, you’re stuck with me until morning.”

You took a moment to look into his eyes. You weren’t sure if the nervousness that you still felt was tied to the nature of that meeting – you were here to have sex with him, it wasn’t a proper date with talking, coffee or a dinner. It was said from the beginning, he was very clear about it. Although the few texts that you exchanged felt nice, all he wanted from you was a fling and you agreed to that, but fact was, you’ve never done this before. Even with your previous boyfriends, it always took you some time to get intimate and here, you consented to fuck a man you knew nothing about. Part of you wondered if you’ll even be able to meet his expectations – a man like him could have any woman he liked and yet he chose you from the ocean of girls probably way more willing than you. The other part though, was already burning from excitement. The foreign adventure awoke something primal in you and if not for the last drops of composure, it’s likely that you’d already be bouncing on him.

“I don’t want to leave,” you nearly whispered, cupping the side of his gorgeous face and he pressed his lips softly to the heel of your palm. Your answer seemed to satisfy him, because after that, he closed the distance between your mouths, clashing them in a hungry kiss.

First few seconds were experimental. Satoru needed to see if you are firm in your decision, because as much as he wanted to fuck you unconscious, he also had no wish to force you to do so and for him, it was more than clear that it is your first time with a stranger in a hotel room. But when your hands reached up, brushing through his hair and pulling him even closer, he let go of all brakes.

The kiss quickly turned into a mess, teeth clashing and tongues dancing a fiery tango, while he already began messing with your dress. It was pretty, you looked stunning in it, but it would look even better off of you. Luckily for him, the fabric was easy to peel off and the reveal of a white, lacey lingerie set almost made him moan into your mouth. He forced himself away just to take a good look on you, and while he did that, you pushed him back. Gojo’s shirt was already mostly unbuttoned so he went ahead and took it off completely, throwing the light fabric away from the bed. Allowing himself to fall onto the bouncy mattress, followed your silhouette attentively. His own pants became way to tight, uncomfortably straining his brick hard cock in the cage of black cotton but he couldn’t focus on it too much, when you looked like this right in front of him.

Having just one night with him, you wanted to waste no time. You were sure that it’s the first time you’re doing this whole fling with a stranger, and the last time at the same time – there was, after all, slim chance you’d ever match with a man like him again, and the expectations bar is set up very, very high and you didn’t even know his name. Yours was written in your bio but his was hidden and during your brief texting, he told you that he’s not going to tell you any detail about himself.

For Satoru, it was safer – his position in the world of sorcerers was way to significant to risk anyone’s safety just so they can feel “connection” for few hours while they’re fucking. Knowing his personal information, it wasn’t all that hard to find him and last thing he wanted was some random girl searching for him later, possibly putting herself into danger or worse. But you… For some reason, despite every rule he had set with himself, he wished you’d know his name. He wished to hear you moan it later, to breathe it out, to scream it even. It’d sound like music, he was sure of it.

“Enjoying the view?” You asked, chuckling lightly when his eyes scanned your figure up and down.

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied, reaching to grab you and in just a second, you were on his lap, your back pressed to his chest and your ass sat down straight onto his crotch. Little gasp escaped your mouth at the feeling of his hard size and he exhaled as well, when you swayed your hips against him. His hands began roaming all over your body, tracing patterns all over your skin and squeezing the soft flesh of your breasts in his large palms. He smeared wet kisses along your neck and shoulders, your jaw and back; the softest whines and whimpers escaping his mouth as you grinded gently against his clothed cock. You could tell he’s big, it only fitted for his dick to be as impressive as the rest of him and you could feel your mouth watering just at the thought of him. Some part of your brain still couldn’t believe that you had this man only to yourself for that night. It really was a win, you’d have to buy your bestie a coffee next time you see her.

The way you moved your hips against his pants made Satoru lose his mind. It’s been years since he felt like he could finish in his boxers without even being properly touched, like a horny teenager watching some stupid sex scene in the movie and way you were awakening his entire body made him euphoric.

“Fuck, so big,” you muttered, reaching back to palm him through his trousers.

“Wanna taste it?” He offered and it surprised him how fast you were on your knees, not caring at all about the hard wooden floors that will surely bruise you harshly. While your dainty fingers worked the belt, button and the zipper of his pants, you took that time to press some wet kisses onto his stomach, that you were convinced, the gods carved themselves from the finest marble.

His cock sprung free the moment you pulled down the fabrics of his trousers and underwear, the tip of it hit the hard muscle of his abs and the sheer size of him terrified you for a moment. He not only had the impressive length, but he also was girthy. The pink skin stretching around the veiny base, leading to the slightly darker tip, already leaking and angry from the anticipation. After seeing so many dick pics during your little trial of dating apps you were certain that nothing will really impress you and yet, he did just that. He was mouthwatering and so pretty. He wasn’t going to fit you, he was at least twice as much as any of your previous boyfriends – there was no way he’ll be able to push into you, but you were more than willing to let him try, and if he tears you apart while doing so, then you’ll probably still thank him. But that’s an issue for later. Now, you were growing hungry to taste him.

Satoru smirked smugly seeing the glisten of fear in your eyes. Not that he wanted you to be scared, but he couldn’t deny that it tickled his ego. Just to reassure you, he gave your head a stroke, smoothing over your hair as your cold hand wrapped around his girth, giving it an experimental pump just to feel him. Then you leaned in, parting your mouth and stroking the underside of his length with your tongue, from the base up to the tip where you swirled the tip of your muscle around just to then plant a sucking kiss there. He panted in delight, sharp tendrils of pleasure rushing through his body. There was something that indicated the lack of experience in the way you took him into your mouth and at the same time, he felt like it’s a natural talent of yours. You worked your way all over him as if you were devouring the most delicious, melting ice cream, licking the sides and sucking the tip. Where your lips couldn’t reach, you used your hand, pumping the remaining inches and playfully massaging his balls, absorbing the rewarding groans and whimpers from above you.

“Fuck, yes, so fucking amazing,” he was praising you, hand resting on the back of your head but putting no pressure to what you were doing. He didn’t need to, you were just perfect, he loved every single move of your tongue against his cock, every graze of your teeth, every suck and kitten lick. His head fell back, when the tip of him hit the back of your throat, his dick twitched and flexed in your grip and you took it as invitation to pick up the intensity. You pumped him harder, you took him deeper, you wanted more of his whines. “Oh my fucking god,” were his final words before he was cumming, white ribbons of hot seed shooting into your mouth as you stroked him through it, prolonging his release as much as you were able to. Salty taste of him spread all over your throat, some of it spilling through the corner of your mouth and running down your chin as you took him out of your lips with a loud pop. Once you swallowed, you made sure to lick him clean, your hunger for him still unsatiated.

Giving him a moment to catch his breath, you got rid of his trousers completely. The taste of him still prominent over your tongue when he looked down on you, grinning widely with a satisfied look on his face. He gathered the lone drop of his cum from the side of your chin and you were more than happy to take his thumb into your mouth, sucking onto it softly and cleaning it.

“God, you’re so nasty. I love it,” he purred, leaning down and grabbing you by the hips. With ease he raised you from the floor and put on the bed, immediately climbing on top of you. He didn’t need much to grow hard once again, just the sight of your beautiful body was enough for him to go all night. “It’s gorgeous, but I’m sure it’ll look better somewhere else.” Mumbling, he was squeezing his hands underneath your back and you arched it for him, giving him access to the clasp of your bra. He took it off quickly, immediately forgetting about his plan to take the panties off as well, when your breasts bounced free. Your fingernails brushed through his hair, scratching at his scalp when he began kissing and licking and sucking at the plump flesh of your chest, toying with your nipples with his mouth and fingers.

His hand shifted lower, smoothing over your stomach and down, right where you wanted him the most. His long fingers brushed over your folds, still covered by the thin layer of white lace, now nearly translucent from how soaked it was already. You could feel his lips curving up when he realized how aroused you were, how you wanted him as much as he wanted you and having no patience and reason to touch you through your panties, he pulled them off with one swift movement.

Satoru found your lips again, kissing you with even more hunger than before. Allowing his digits run up and down your slit he slid with ease with how wet you were. You moaned softly into his lips when he began toying with your clit, circling his fingertips around it, pressing and swirling them, making your thighs shiver and tremble below him. You squeezed his shoulders, tensing repeatedly as he was abusing the sensitive bud. With every jolt of your body, you felt the warmth flooding your system, the euphoric haze overpowering your senses, slowly rendering your brain into a heated mush. It wasn’t that long since he began and already you could feel yourself dangerously close to the edge or pleasure. With every skillful circle of his fingers, you felt like he’s pushing you to fall down into the ocean of extasy.

Your eyes squeezed shut, you couldn’t focus on his lips over yours, so he moved his head to the side to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. He wasn’t meaning to mark you but couldn’t help but to leave few reddish spots over the delicious layer of your skin. Any last bit of composure snapped as the orgasm overtook you. You came all over his fingers, your thighs shivering and your vision completely blurry.

While you whined and panted, Gojo found himself even more desperate to hear his name slipping off that tongue of yours and if the consequence of this will haunt him in the future, then so be it.

“Satoru,” he purred right into your ear. “My name is Satoru.”

You registered that, you really did, but all what left your mouth in that very second was an incoherent hum that made him chuckle. Moving downwards, Gojo quickly found his place between the plush of your thighs, giving your still throbbing, swollen clit an experimental lick. You almost jumped at the feeling, your oversensitive bud threatened to make you cum for the second time right away, but he couldn’t care less about you coming down from your high. Instead, he wanted you to dive down into the depth of euphoria and so he slid one of his long fingers into your clenching hole. Immediately, your velvety walls hugged his digit, your slick covering him completely as he began moving it in and out. He kept his mouth occupied with your puffy clit, licking and sucking at it, writing the letters of his own name right onto it with the tip of his tongue and you grabbed a handful of his hair trying to stop him before you explode.

Keeping your trembling thighs apart, he added the second finger with ease, pushing them as far as he could, curling them inside you and hitting the spots you didn’t even know you had. Your sweet juices were coating his face as he sucked and slurped them greedily, slowly becoming pussy drunk from the way you tasted on his mouth. If not for the way his cock twitched against the mattress, he would have happily stayed between your legs for the rest of the night, listening to his name slipping repeatedly through your lips.

Your second orgasm hit you like a train, catapulting you right into the outer space, and for a moment you were certain you couldn’t still be on earth. How else could you explain the white constellations of stars that were spreading in the front of your vision? Satoru laughed, satisfied and still buried deep into your cunt, drinking every drop he could, with his fingers still moving in and out of you. You tried to squeeze him with your thighs, to stop him from literally killing you, because you couldn’t take the third one right after the previous two, but he was determined to prove you wrong.

Slowly adding the third finger, he stretched you even more. The burning sensation made you cry out as he picked up the pace. Even his hand was a lot, his digits long and perfectly working along your sensitive insides. Wet sounds of your pussy filled in the air, accompanying your pants and whines and the filthy noises of his mouth abusing your clit once again. It took him no time to have you cumming again, it almost hurt with how good it felt, and he pulled not only the third release from you, but also fourth. You really needed a break. With a harsh pull of his hair, you forced him up and he chuckled with content. He was breathing quickly as well, completely drunk from your sweet juices, euphoria now flowing through his veins instead of blood.

He pulled away his fingers and a cute pout formed on your lips at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

“How sweet you are,” he cooed, his tone breathy as he pushed his digits over your mouth. You took them in quickly, licking away your arousal, before he retracted his hand and kissed you fervently. The tastes now coated both of your tongues in a filthy mixture of sex and pleasure. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, yes,” you mumbled feverishly, following his lips, yearning for the soft feeling of them against yours. You felt lightheaded, the world outside the bed you were in didn’t exist to you, all you knew and wanted was a man, a stranger from the internet that was above you. His strong, sculpted body caressing yours, his tongue licking its way right into your soul and his insanely attractive voice purring the filthiest things right into your ear. For that night, he was your one and only and for that night, you were his.

Gojo pumped his length few times, smearing the precum and your sleek along it before he pressed the tip against your hole. With lust heavy in his eyes, he slowly pushed in, growling lowly at how tightly you hugged him and biting onto the supple flesh of your breast just to ground himself before he cum prematurely. You gasped at the way he tore into you, little by little pushing himself deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, so tight,” he stammered, sucking on a breath as his voice broke off to a groan. “And I’m not even halfway in.”

You muttered something – babbled, unable to form anything coherent and the way you looked like your soul was leaving your frame woke something primal in him. Satoru grabbed at your hip with one of his large hands, the digits digging into your flesh with bruising force as he playfully grinned, counting “one, two” before pushing in all the way. You trembled from under him, arching your back and throwing your head back just enough to have him glued to your throat, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. Your clenching walls rid him of the lasts of his composure, as soon as he bottomed out, he began losing himself in the feeling of your body. He pulled out almost completely only to sink back fully, initiating the first thrust that pulled a loud moan from your lips.

“Say my name,” he pleaded, his tone underlined with desperation and lust as he repeated the motion once again.

“Satoru.” You obeyed, prompting him to pick up the pace. In no time, he was fucking into you with all the strength he had in his toned body, his knuckles turning white from the forceful hold he had on your hip. He kept you in place, your legs wide open and his thrusts unforgivable. He was ruthless, completely overtaken by the immense, absolute bliss of euphoria, the chase of pleasure motivating his pelvis to keep driving into you.

Your mind was emptied of everything that wasn’t him, the heated flurry of erotic haze overflowing your head and pouring down, pooling in your stomach. His pace was relentless, with every roll of his hips he stroked your walls just right, kissing every oversensitive spot inside of you with the delicious girth of his cock. It’s like he spoke in the very same language as your body, it’s like he was made, sculpted exactly in the way to fill you up to the brim with such perfection.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face as the force of his hips picked up. The intense pace he’s challenged himself along with the crushing flexes of your pussy rendered him into the whining and groaning mess. Every needy flex of your walls made him go more and more feral, an overwhelming pleasure sending a hot rush of bliss throughout his nervous system. The very same impulses were jolting along your spine, sharp tendrils of hot extasy made you squeeze his shoulders and dig your nails into his strong muscles.

Satoru pushed your legs up, pressing your thighs to your chest and angling his hips in a way that has his cock slamming against your sweet spots. He was thrusting into you even deeper, although you didn’t think that’s even possible. The blunt head of his dick kissed every part of your insides as his pace began to stutter. It became desperate, fervent, somehow even rougher. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. A prayer of his name was leaving your lips without your knowledge, steadily pushing him off the edge with every syllable that your sweet voice created.

You nearly screamed when the string of pleasure snapped, an orgasm overtook you in hot waves of bliss and he was quick to follow, gritting his teeth as he dumbly pistoned his cock into you, smearing slick all over himself and your thighs. The flexes of your walls made his head fall back. His slams slowed down, became sloppier and languid; the uneven movement that carried both you and him through the highs of your blisses. Your legs fell down and he collapsed on top of you, supporting himself on his elbow to not crash you completely.

You wrapped your arms around him, allowing him to rest on your chest to catch his breath. Your heartbeat was fast, erratic even and your vision was blurry. You were drowning in the ocean of an utter satisfaction and you had no wish to swim back up.

“Think you have more in you?” He asked after few minutes of calm. His muscles flexed as he was lifting himself up above you once again and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I hope you do. We’re not done.”

That night you went few more rounds, each one seemingly more intense than the previous one. You lost count of how many times you came; you had no idea how many times he came as well. The sky above Tokyo slowly became lighter, the sun raised up from the horizon line signaling the beginning of a new day, but to you, the previous one continued. The perception of time was the last thing you had in your mind, when Satoru’s body was so close to yours. You were a mess and so was he, in a cacophony of lust driven whimpers and groaned praises, the wet sounds of skin slapping, the ragged grunts and shaky exhales, you two fulfilled the deepest needs. Souls stripped bare, bodies connected and yet still longing for more, lips never wanting to part from one another. All of that finally led you to the point of not being able to continue.

Your entire body hurt, your muscles were sore, your throat dried and your pussy aching. You were exhausted, feeling like you could pass out any second and thankfully, Satoru was just as tired as you. Breaking another one of his rules, the one to never stay in bed with his flings, he now pushed himself further to take you to bathroom for the quick shower, just to wash away the filth that covered your bodies, before laying you down on the mattress. He threw away the messy cover and laid with you, using the second one to keep you warm. Although it was day already, you still had few hours before needing to leave the suite, so he might as well sleep with you. You were gone the second you cuddled to his chest and he followed you quickly.

“Hey, gorgeous, wake up.” Satoru’s soft tone pulled you from the dreamland and if you were to be honest, you could wake up to his voice. Wiping the sleep away from your eyes, you raised up on the elbow to look at him. He was already dressed, somewhat pulled together, looking just as handsome as when you saw him for the first time, although his shirt was more wrinkled and the skin underneath his eyes just a tad bit darker. “Get up, we need to leave.”

At first, it confused you a little, but then you glanced to the side where the electronic clock was showing 9:26am. You should probably get out until 10, so the cleaning team can enter and prepare the suite for another guest. It made sense, but what made for a bigger surprise was that he still was there. You fully expected him to be gone before you open your eyes, you thought you’ll never see him again after that night, and yet there he was, waiting for you to get up.

To be fair, Satoru could have, and even planned to vanish before you wake up. He was ready to pay for another day in the suite only to let you sleep him off properly. He didn’t think he’ll even stay in bed with you after fucking, but if it was any other woman, he’d be out the door first chance he had – he never liked the awkwardness that come after the sex with a stranger. He hated those odd, pseudo-polite questions, he never truly knew how to act to not hurt the person and at the same time, not seed any false hopes, because he had no wish to settle with any of his affairs. But you were different, and he had no idea why. For you he was willing to break all of his rules, he wanted to be there when you wake up, to see the tiredness painting through your beautiful features, to leave the hotel with you and spend just as much time as he could breathing the same air as you. He hoped that maybe he’ll get lucky enough to kiss you one more time before parting ways.

You gathered yourself up, giving yourself one more quick rinse under the shower and putting on your clothes. You looked ok, considering what happened – the ice-cold water woke you up quickly. Smoothing your dress, and brushing your fingers through your hair, you left the bathroom, ready to get out of here. Satoru helped you with your jacket, handed you your bag and then put the dark, round sunglasses into the pocket on the front of his shirt. The day before you noticed the shades laying on the table.

“How are you feeling?” He asked in the elevator as he pressed the button with 0 printed on it, making the lift head down towards the lobby.

“I’m sore as if I just went through a triathlon, but other than that, I’m feeling good,” you replied in a light tone, smiling softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing. Though I feel like I went through that triathlon with you.” His remark made you chuckle, and Gojo felt like the entire tension left his body along with the fear of the awkward conversations. You two went through the lobby with ease, he gave the keycards to the receptionist and led you out of the hotel.

“So, Satoru,” you began, looking up at him. In the broad daylight you noticed the slight lavender undertone to his hair. His eyes glistened even more beautifully in the sun, although for a moment you wondered if he maybe needed the glasses to protect those eyes. You decided against asking about it. “Thank you for that night. It really was incredible.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he smiled softly, his fingertips brushing against your cheekbone and before you knew it, you leaned into the warm touch of his hand. “I hope you’ll forget about me quickly.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget about you,” you confessed, but smile never left your mouth. “But I won’t be searching for you.”

“That’ll be better for you, sweet thing.” Gojo sighed, realizing that he will never forget that night either. Before that, he couldn’t recall the name of any of his flings – sometimes he couldn’t even remember it during the meeting, but yours engraved itself into his mind permanently. But no matter how badly he’d want to continue this thing with you, see where it’ll go, he couldn’t. Being with him would make the rest of your life a constant risk, and it already was selfish of him to stand publicly and talk with you. He cleared his throat, pushing all of those thoughts away as he lightened his tone. “So, that was your first time with a stranger from the internet, huh?”

“Yeah… Honestly, it wasn’t even exactly my idea. My friend set up my account, apparently, I was too boring to be alive and in desperate need of some fun, or something like this. I’ll probably delete the app from my phone today though, I don’t think those dating sites are really for me.”

“I see. Well, I guess that’s dangerous to meet random people like this after all.”

“Also, how could anyone reach the bar of expectations after you,” you joked and he laughed, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, right, that’s reasonable. Alrighty, guess it’s time for me to go.”

“Sure.”

“Will you be okay?”

“No worries, I’ll get home on my own, Satoru.”

Satoru. He was right, his name sounded like music when spoken in your voice. There was some underlying care and softness to your tone when you addressed him, even if it wasn’t intentional. He wished to hear it more, he wished he had more time.

“Take care, alright?” He smiled, putting on his glasses. They were dark enough for you to not see his eyes anymore.

“You too.”

“Goodbye, y/n.”

“Goodbye, Satoru.”

 He didn’t kiss you. The warmth of your skin lingered on his fingers as he was walking away, a direction completely opposite to the one you went. Fuck, he didn’t even hug you.

You texted your friend on your way home, telling her that you’re okay and deleting the hundreds of missed calls that she spammed you during the night and morning. You couldn’t blame her, you went missing for the entire evening and up until now, you gave no sign of being alive. You promised her to send a text yesterday, assuming that the date won’t be too entertaining, but turned out, it was. With a sigh, you threw the phone into your bag, looking up at the sky. It was blue and clear, just as beautiful as the eyes of a man that you were meant to never see again. It pained you, and you didn’t know why. You really had no idea who he was, all you knew about him was his name, his age and his length, but other than that, you couldn’t describe him as a person to save your life. You had no idea what color he likes, what food he enjoys, what movies he watches and what’s his job – you knew how he tastes, how he feels and how he kisses. It really was just sex. Then why did you feel so void in the heart?

“Yeah, yeah.” Satoru mumbled to the phone. It was Yaga calling, wanting him to come to work today even though it was one of not many days off he had. Apparently something happened, although he couldn’t make out what exactly happened. It didn’t sound so urgent, really, it didn’t sound interesting enough for Gojo to rush to school. “Yeah, actually, I’m quite busy today, you know?” He tried, but the yelling on the other side of the line only increased and if it wasn’t for his sensei, he would just hang up. Not many people had the privilege of scolding him so openly.

“Satoru, focus, it’s import-“

Oh, fuck it.

“Sorry, sensei, something’s breaking up!” He disconnected the call and turned around. He couldn’t see you in the crowd anymore, but rushed back anyway, pushing through the ocean of people. He really wanted that kiss. And that hug. And you. Even if that meant he’ll have to protect you for the rest of his life, he was willing to take that risk.

He found you few streets further, waiting on the bus stop, reading the schedule, probably searching for the nearest one. You were on the phone with someone, drinking water from the bottle that you probably bought on your way. Then the green vehicle approached and you made few steps to get in, waiting just for people to get out first.

“Y/n!”, he called, but you didn’t hear him, probably because of the phone call. “Y/n, wait!”

“Huh?” This time you heard something and stopped mid-step, looking around and searching for the voice. Once you found him, rushing towards you, your gaze lightened up and it only made him go quicker.

When Satoru reached you, his hands immediately wrapped around your middle, pulling you into his chest fervently and you cradled his face with as much of your hand as you could, keeping your phone in it still, with your friend on the line. You couldn’t care about her rambling, when he was kissing you like he just saw the love of his life for the first time in years. For that moment, you felt like you’re inside the low budget rom-com, like you’re one of those fictional characters that find love at the first sight – the ones that you always make fun of, because there’s no such thing as love at the first sight. Life is far from the reality of those romantic shows that young girls love so much.

“Satoru, what are you doing?” You asked him, catching your breath when he parted his lips from yours just enough to allow himself to speak.

“You might be in danger if you keep seeing me. Fuck, you most likely will be in danger if you keep seeing me. But I can protect you. I’m able to keep you safe if-“, voice got stuck in his throat, but the encouraging smoothing of your fingers on his cheek pushed him to finish. “If you’ll trust me and be willing to… We could go grab some breakfast, for starters. What do you think?”

“I trust you, Satoru,” you replied with your voice calm. “And breakfast sounds perfect.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kinktober #jjk kinktober #jujutsu kaisen kinktober #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo imagines

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 1. The King Of The Ring.

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Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2899 words. A/N: Hiya! Well, I am up-to-date with Jinx, and even tho it's so fun to read, I just fucking hate Joo Jaekyung so much! So, I decided to kinda write my own version with my favorite toxic man. Hope you like it, folks!

“Sukuna Ryomen, ladies and gentlemen! He demonstrated again why he is the king of the ring!” The excited narrator exclaimed, meanwhile the king flexed the golden belt around his waist after another amazing fight. 

His body was glossed with sweat, his lips were smiling proudly and the blood of his opponent was sliding down his skin. A dangerous beast who just caught his prey. They showed the repetition of the final hit in slow motion, a perfect punch in the perfect moment. Luck doesn’t exist in the world of mixed martial arts, we have unique opportunities instead. I also used to believe that luck didn’t exist, until I witnessed it in person. 

“It’s here,” I thought out loud when I saw the giant sign that read Team Black MMA Gym in bright white and red letters. 

It was the most important MMA gym in Tokyo. I heard that they only accept the fighters with most potential of the country. My trainer told me that I should try out but, as a woman, I wasn’t particularly interested in entering a male-exclusive gym. The only woman there is the physiotherapist. 

I took the elevator to the gym’s floor. When the doors opened, the smell of sweat and the sound of the metal weights welcomed me. I just stepped inside, and I had already eyes of me, was expecting it to be honest. A woman in a gym filled by rugged men isn’t something you see every day. It didn’t help that I was using an oversize gray hoodie which covered my shorts, making it seem that I wasn’t wearing any pants. 

The gym was divided is training areas. In the corner, there was a real ring that stood tall for fighters to simulate real combats. Along the gym, there were several punching bags, weight stations and resistance equipment. Also, there were more areas designed to practice different fighting styles. 

The sound of the punches and kicks, mixed with the instructions of the coaches, created a threatening and energetic environment. You could easily notice who were the fighters with discipline. Those were working hard to perfect their skills, showing off their determination in every move. The place was impregnated with a spirit of self-improvement and sportsmanship, where the passion for martial arts was in every corner. 

“Welcome, miss.”  A tall blonde man called me.

“You must be the manager, Nanami Kento,” I greeted with a bow, which was reciprocated. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” he greeted back. “Let me introduce you to your trainee.” He leaded the way through the heavy equipment to the outstanding ring. 

Sukuna was simulating a fight with another member of the gym. Nanami and I just waited for them to finish so he could introduce me. Sukuna was constantly moving towards his opponent, creating closure enough so he could punch him better. The power difference could be noticed from what they were wearing. Sukuna was just wearing a black compressed shirt and gray shorts, meanwhile his black haired opponent was wearing the gym uniform and all the protection equipment available. 

It was a different experience watching live the king of the ring in action. The details like the sound of the punching winds and how Sukuna’s muscles flexed with every move were lost on the TV. When Sukuna threw a definite left jab that left his opponent in the floor, I couldn’t help to gulp hard. He was a killing machine. 

“Great job!” Nanami applauded along some other fighters who were witnessing the fight as well. I clapped so I didn’t look so out of place. 

Sukuna turned to my way and a grimace of disgust appeared on his face, a total stranger with no pants on. He took his gloves off and throw them to my feet. “So this is how it is going to be?” I asked myself, not even bothering picking them up. Sukuna gritted his teeth when I didn’t react. 

“What an awful cleaning lady you hired, Kento,” Sukuna disdainfully said. 

“She is not a cleaning lady! She is your new coach,” Nanami introduced me, ashamed by the attitude of his star athlete. 

“Kick her out, I don’t need a new coach,” Sukuna groaned. 

“If I knew this was going to be like this, why am I here?” I asked myself in my mind, starting to take back my decision of becoming the coach of a well-known fighter with anger issues. Ah, I remember now. I needed to see something for myself. 

“Hello? Am I talking with y/n?” A couple of weeks ago, Nanami Kento called to my gym, desperate. 

“You are talking with her,” I answered, thinking he was a recruiter or someone in the UFC. 

“Great. My name is Nanami Kento, and I am Sukuna Ryomen’s manager.” A famous fighter in the MMA world. The world champion in the light heavyweight division. The king of the ring and a wild tiger during interviews due to his lack of humbleness. A horrible person to the simple eye, a magnificent opponent in the ring. 

“I’ll be straight forward. I don’t if you saw his last fight…” Sukuna’s last fight was in Las Vegas against Suguru Geto, another amazing fighter. The interesting thing about that encounter was seeing two great fighters specialized in opposite areas. Geto specializes in floor fighting, meanwhile Ryomen is an incredible boxer. Everyone went crazy when the fight was announced, could Sukuna beat him with just his bare punches, or would Geto be able to bring him down to his advantage?

In the middle of the fourth round, Geto pulled him to the floor and Sukuna was in problems. Obviously, Sukuna has some training in floor fighting, but he that wasn’t enough when you are against the best. Sukuna tried to set himself free by the force, but his punches weren’t good enough to win the fight. 

“It will be a technical knockout.” I thought out while watching the fight from the comfort of my living room. I was eating chips mindlessly until I saw a unique opportunity. 

Sukuna, in some way, could free himself from Geto’s strong grip. With great momentum, Sukuna delivered a precise punch to the jaw that completely knocked Suguru out. I jumped from the couch to watch closely the repetition. I had seen Geto do that chokehold a thousand times, no opponent can just simply free themselves like that. My eyes couldn’t believe how clean that punch was. 

“The thing is that his coach and I believe he must improve his floor techniques,” Nanami explained the situation.

“There are many more renowned trainers who specialize in floor, why me?” I asked, curious at the whole conversation. I have heard rumors that Sukuna is pretty picky with whom he lets in his gym. 

“You are right. You have been the tenth coach I had called today,” Nanami honestly answered. “Sukuna is too stubborn and doesn’t want to admit that he was also beaten in his last fight. He goes out of his way to get rid of every coach we bring him.”

“Why do you think I will accept?” I asked. If he was calling me, a woman, there’s must be a reason. 

“If I believe someone can humble him and teach him some discipline is you,”  he declared. 

An offended smile appeared on my face. I wasn’t going to let Sukuna Ryomen treat me like if I was a slack to deal with. Now I understood why every coach gave up on him, you cannot train something that doesn't want to be trained, but you can tame it. 

“Sukuna, we already talked about this. You should train with someone who specializes in floor so what happened in Vegas doesn't happen again,” his coach said, Satoru Gojo. A tall white haired man in an all black coaching uniform. He was standing beside him with his arms crossed, clearly stressed from dealing with his bratty attitude all day. 

“What happened in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas. I don’t need another stupid coach,” he defended himself while he brushed his hair back with his fingers. 

“You win, I won’t train you,” I said in defeat. I turned around and was making my way to the elevator. “Either way, I don’t train assholes,” I said with a sly smile. A howl from the fighters who heard me echoed through the gym. 

“Stop!” He barked. I turned around to see what he wanted. 

“You didn’t want me to leave?” I asked, trying not to smirk. 

“What did you call me?” He dared me to repeat myself. 

“Did Geto hit you so hard that you went deaf? I said, you are an asshole!” I shouted from my place. 

Nanami quickly got to me so I behaved better, but I couldn’t back down now. Sukuna scoffed and snapped his fingers at me. 

“Get up here,” he demanded as another fighter gave him back his gloves. He wanted to fight me.

“You don’t have to, miss,” Nanami warned me in a whisper. 

“I know what I am doing, don’t worry,” I answered in the same volume. 

I put the teeth protector I brought with me on my pink shoulder bag. I wrapped my hands in bandages while Sukuna was analyzing me from top to bottom. It was understandable, I was a dangerous wasp in his bee hive. The rest of the fighters stop training to get around the ring to witness the match. When I finished wrapping my hands, I took off my hoodie, revealing my abs and toned arms. Some whistle and applauded as if I was a stripper, when I could shut them up with a kick in the nuts. Sukuna, in the other hand, just kept staring, looking for weaknesses. He was being serious. 

“You better not be wasting my time,” he angrily barked. His red eyes still looking me from head to toes without shame. 

“You are already wasting mine,” I answered. Sukuna smiled, offended.

“We are really going to let this fight happen?” Nanami asked Gojo.

“It looks like it's the only way he will accept her,” Gojo said before stepping inside the ring. “Touch gloves so we can start.” I placed my gloves in the middle so Sukuna could bump them, but he just backed away. “Fucking pussy” I thought, backing up to my side. 

A small audience formed around the ring for an unusual show. A light heavyweight champion against a random girl that just showed up. It looked like the possibilities of winning weren’t on my side. I started moving my legs and arms to relax my limbs. If Sukuna was a lion, I had to be a fast gazelle. His preying eyes were on me all times. I smiled at him. He could look me everything he wanted, he didn’t scare me. It was my time to show him who was boss. 

“Fight!” Gojo shouted. 

There is a gold rule in mixed martial arts: “The first hit is the most important.” Sukuna flew towards me with a superman punch. He was open. I dodged it fast enough so I could jab him against his left cheek. The surprised audience gasped collectively. Sukuna quickly got used to my rhythm and changed his posture towards me. I created distance between us, so I could evaluate my options. I didn't have any other option than going for his legs, but that wouldn’t be a simple task. His legs were too strong to just swoop him off his feet with a single kick. I needed to do something more drastic.

Sukuna kept closing the distance between us to punch me directly, he was looking for the knockout. He was more of an offensive than defensive fighter, like I already knew. Sukuna hit me a couple of times that were celebrated by the public. They stung with power and intense pain. He was giving the best of him. I needed to answer with the same power, but in a more clever way. 

I kicked him in the stomach so he could back down, but he pushed my hand down just in time, so my kick didn’t connect well. I tried kicking the other side, this time he stopped me by grabbing my ankle. Big mistake. I impulsed myself with my other leg to kick him on his face to knock him to the floor. Sukuna fell with a big slam that made the whole audience to howl in surprised. 

I quickly got onto him to lock him down against the mat with my legs around his neck and torso. He tried getting up, just like with Geto, but I wasn’t going to let him. This was the only chance I got to beat him. I could listen to Sukuna growling under his breath. He punched me against my sides, but I couldn’t give up. I latched my left leg on his right arm, making him turn around slowly. The audience screamed confusing instructions to Sukuna because they knew if this continued like this, the fight was over. I made Sukuna turned around on his belly. I reached for his head, so I could chokehold him in between my biceps. The screams kept getting louder, but I didn’t give a damn. I needed to end him, if I wanted a place on his gym. Sukuna started to breath with difficulty while this hands tried to loosen up my powerful grasp. He was reliving what happened in Las Vegas. 

“Come on, Sukuna! Finish this!” Gojo ordered among the hollering. Sukuna sighed and obeyed. He tapped my arms three times in surrender. A technical knockout. I quickly released him and I stand tall, leaving him space so he could breathe. 

“y/n “Medusa’s snake” y/ln is the winner,” Gojo announced while raising my arm in victory. The fighters applauded me in approval. I took my dental protector to breathe comfortably through my mouth. Even though I won, I wasn’t finished. 

“Good fight…” Sukuna groaned under his breath, giving me his hand to shake. I did shake it, even though he was visibly mad. I could understand why, I just kicked his ass in front of his entire gym. 

“This means you will train Sukuna?” Nanami asked me with hope in his voice. 

“No, I said I didn’t coach assholes” I shrugged. Sukuna’s face turned from angry to offended in a hot second. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I am a world champion, you should be honored to train me!” He shouted on my face, but I didn’t budge. He wasn't upset that I had to train him. Now, he's just mad because I didn't want to train him anymore. We were making progress. 

“I am not interested in training the world champion of assholes,” I seriously said before putting my hoodie back on. 

I hung the bag on my shoulder and quickly walked away from the whole situation. I dodged the other fighters on my way out. Nanami kept following me, asking me to reconsider the offer. I took the elevator, leaving the chaos behind me. Once the doors closed, I collapsed against the wall behind me. Fighting against Sukuna was an entire workout. The bruises started to show up in purple hues, my legs were trembling weak, and my lips were begging for water. Dealing with Sukuna wasn’t an easy task. 

The elevator’s doors opened on the first floor. I stepped out just to rest my body for a minute. I took my water bottle out to drink some while I waited. What I was waiting for? I really didn’t know, but I needed to wait for someone to come chasing after me to beg me to stay. Maybe it was going to be Nanami, Gojo or any other fighter. It could be anyone. 

“Wait!” The last person that I thought would come for me said behind me. It was Sukuna. He looked tired and agitated. He was wearing a black hoodie, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead. 

“What do you need, asshole?” I asked without taking the straw off my mouth. 

“Don’t call me like that,” he groaned. 

“I will once you stop acting like one,” I said, putting my water bottle aside. Sukuna rolled his eyes and sighed. He was so done. “Now you know that you need me?” I asked with a confident smirk. 

“I don't need you, but you are good. I want you in my team,” he corrected. 

“Fine, with one condition.” Sukuna raised his chin at me to continue. “You must accept that you are terrible in floor fighting.” He laughed at the “absurd condition.”

“I am a world champion, I am not terrible in floor fighting,” he angrily said. 

“It’s not good to lie so much,” I said, replicating his tone. I turned around to exit the building. “If you don’t want to fulfil my condition, I can’t train you.” 

“Wait!” Sukuna grab me by my arm to stopped me. “Fine,” he sighed again. “I am terrible at floor fighting, are you happy now?” I turned to him with a bright smile on my face. 

“See? That wasn’t that hard.”

“Hush,” he groaned, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks were a bit flustered, it was kinda cute.

“When do we start?” I asked with a proud heart. The Medusa’s Snake had beaten another terrible man. 

“Right now,” he pulled me with him, back to the elevator.

Next Part→

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[s4toryuu]

guard dogs — geto suguru, gojo satoru

on the way through a dangerous street to meet your friend, suguru and satoru protect you from a couple monkeys

notes; protective besties, afab!reader, implied crush on suguru, reader is tinier than the boys, reader teases satosugu, based on true story

m.list

satoru and suguru are tall. suguru’s muscular body shows through the uniform sometimes and satoru’s white hair and sheer size collects stares like a curse.

you had just finished a solo assignment when it was time for you to meet your friend. she’d texted you the night before about a new cafe that opened in the middle of tokyo where your assignment was conveniently around the corner.

“where’s your boyfriend?” you tease satoru when he walks to you. he scoffs.

“he’s coming, don’t worry.” he checked his phone and suguru taps the top of your head from behind you. an easy thing to do seeing as you barely reached the middle of his bicep.

“yo.” he smiles. “where you going?”

“oh, that new cafe with my friend. I don’t think it’s that far.” you reply to him while fixing your hair.

“can we come?” satoru looks at you.

you answer quickly, “no.”

the last time the three of you went out, satoru ordered fourteen drinks which you guys ended up having to carry most of them all the way back to school because this white-haired idiot couldn’t finish them. and also he was “saving them for later.”

“oh, come on, please? it’s so early, I don’t wanna go back yet.” satoru pleads. he’s right, the sun blared high in the sky after a cold and cloudy spring week.

“go somewhere else!” you start looking around for the right direction.

“but we already tried everything here, right suguru?”

“yeah, he’s right.” suguru looks up at a sign.

“I’ll buy you your order!” satoru reaches out to you and you halt your steps. “yeah, that tempted you huh?”

you laugh. “fine. but don’t be weird to my friend.” satoru waves this off and lets out a lazy agreement.

“nice, satoru.” suguru whispers. you hear them.

there was an real reason you didn’t want to take the two to meet your friend. annoyingly, you admit the two are really fucking handsome. they get stares and get approached a lot, and you know your friend wasn’t immune to their charm. you almost fell victim back in your early years too.

you were more worried about satoru. he’s handsome and he knows it, so he’s cocky and doesn’t shut up. suguru’s humble nature makes people want him more, but it also makes them delusional. even worse, he was exactly your friend’s type. you wanted him for yourself.

the three of you start walking with you leading the way and your friends following side by side behind you. you ignore the stares from the entire city—you were used to it when you were with satoru and suguru. the harder issue was trying to ignore jealous energy directed at you.

you know the general area, but you look down at your phone to pull up the map. you turn a corner and feel a change in energy—desire and lust that were at the edge of becoming a curse.

you still feel the boys as they chatted behind you, which gave you the courage to look up. surely enough, there was a group of nine men sat and gathered around, and you look farther to see a suggestive sign for what you assume poses as a club. you’ve dealt with many terrifying things being a sorcerer, but dirty men gave you an innate fear you couldn’t just exorcise.

“wow, look at that.” one man says. the rest turn their heads and two stand up. you assume they haven’t seen satoru and suguru behind you yet. you hear suguru sigh in frustration.

“how old are you, girl?” one of them sitting down says, eyeing you down. he wore a red extremely faded graphic tee. “just got outta school? what school’s that uniform from?”

you freeze. you don’t know whether to respond, ignore, or turn around. it was a small street and there was no one else in earshot. a perfect place to coerce young women. you back up into satoru. suguru walks in front of you, his hands in his pocket. your view is now obstructed by the middle of his back. satoru doesn’t move behind you and bends sideways to watch whatever his best friend is about to do.

“are we gonna have an issue here?” suguru speaks in a voice you rarely hear. you hear anger bubble in it.

“ha! you gonna do something if there is?” the man scoffs. the men standing start walking toward you and the one in the red shirt stands up. you see a shift when he stands at his full height and still has to look up to suguru.

“yeah.” suguru deadpans. he puts his right hand out to his side to summon a curse but you grab his arm to stop him.

“no, don’t! that’s not allowed. just… kick his ass or something.” you whisper nervously.

“hey, girl, don’t you wanna make some money? it’s easy work for you, pretty.” the man starts again. “especially with those nice tits, yea?” he looks back to his group and some laugh.

satoru clicks his tongue. “tsk. gross! suguru, you gonna get rid of them now or what?”

suguru scoffs and summons a curse quickly. it was a pink creature and it reminded you of a cat mixed with a fox. “sorry y/n, but a curse will attract less attention than us beating them up.”

you bend sideways to get a look and to your surprise, the fox swirls around the man in the red shirt lovingly. the man looks confused and looks to his group. he starts hyperventilating and sweating, then the fox wraps its tail around his crotch and leg—like a zipline harness.

“what the fuck?!” the man yells. he starts screaming in agony as both your friends watch.

“oh wow, is this a new one?” satoru asks happily. suguru hums and the fox lets go.

the man screams in agony holding his groin, and two come to help him up. the rest of the group is confused, and some walk off. the curse switches targets and the man starts groaning.

“what the hell did you do?” the other asks.

“you wanna find out?” suguru almost growls. the group runs off, leaving the first victim on the floor swearing at the air and grabbing at his groin.

“hm. fucking monkeys.” sugu mumbles. “disgusting.” he dissipates the curse and the three of you walk past the man on the floor.

“jesus.” you mutter. “thanks.”

“you’re welcome!” satoru puts his arm around your shoulder and weighs you down.

“you didn’t do anything!” you fake-yell at him.

“yeahuh!” he protests. you shrug off his weight.

“whatever, let’s just go.” you walk ahead again, but this time your two friends split and walk by your side.

“does that happen a lot?” suguru asks you.

“nah.” you reply with a comforting tone, knowing suguru he would get worried. “plus, I’m always either with you two or shoko—no one messes with shoko—and you two are just scary.” the two chuckle.

you knew you were always safe with your two friends especially because they were the strongest. and for the record, satoru standing behind you gave you a sense of security.

suguru patted the top of your head. you think your heart stopped.

you hear amusement in his voice. “that’s good. we’re like your guard dogs.” he smiles.

[requests open]

m.list

#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴 #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #satosugu #fanfic #x reader #geto fluff #gojo fluff #fluff

[cannellee]

How would alpha mitsuya feel about a omega reader who treats his sister like they are her own puppy, like she accidentally scent them and clean them like a mother would with her own puppy, there something about omega reader feel to need to take care of the girls and doesn’t help that reader’s Instant takes over whenever she round the girls. Omega Reader even purring round the girls like her need are satisfy whenever she take care of the girls.

I hope this make sense. ✋😭

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mitsuya x omega! reader

— mitsuya's reaction to his omega taking care of his little sisters

my masterlist: ☆

(that was sooo cute, i loved writing this!! I hope you'll love it just as much!)

being mitsuya's girlfriend, and him being the responsible older brother that he is, you spent most of your dates at his place.

it didn't bother you in the slightest, luna and mana were angels and absolutely adored their big brother's girlfriend. you grew quite close, becoming a second parental figure in these little girls' life.

mitsuya loved to see you get along along so well, even going as far as spending time together building nests. you taught them how to gather the best items, scent them however they liked and assemble them together. exactly how your mother showed you the first time, but it mainly was an instinctive process, so you let them do their own thing. you stayed back, encouraging purrs leaving your throat to show your appreciation towards them.

the first time you scented his sisters wasn't actually planned. it just happened that mitsuya went away for a few minutes to buy ingredients for tonight's dinner, and luna hit her head against the floor after tripping.

panic took over you and you rushed over to her sobbing form, hiccups slowly forming even though she tried her best to suppress them. luckily it wasn't anything bad, it hurt more than it was dangerous, and you subconsciously scented her out of relief. omegas' instincts were particularly sensitive towards children, and it didn't help that luna and mana felt like a family to you now, now that the three of you were patiently waiting for the return of mitsuya every day.

upon returning back home, mitsuya cooed at the unexpected sight of his little sisters cuddling with you. they were bathed in his omega's sweet scent, peacefully snoring. he softly came up to you, gently kissing your smiling face.

the three of you looked perfect like this, mitsuya couldn't help but feel like he had attained the best domestic life he could ever hope for.

coming home to the sight of his lovely omega taking care of his two little sisters, loving them as much as he did... god, you looked so perfect, and it felt so right.

he particularly loved the way you would lightly scold them whenever they got in trouble or dirtied their clothes after playing. and the way you would call them over, zipping up their jacket before allowing them to go outside. you looked so good, so motherly. almost as if they were your own. seeing you were so comfortable with each other appeased him in so many ways.

you were always there whenever mitsuya had a gang meeting and needed someone to look after the girls. mitsuya hated that he had to leave them home alone, and knowing he had his cute and dedicated omega over eased his mind. still, he wished he could get to the three of you quickly. imagining the people he cared about the most at one place, worried him as much as it satisfied his instincts to know exactly where all of you were.

you were so vulnerable, mitsuya wanted to stay close so he could watch over you while you took care of luna and mana. he liked it whenever you played with his sisters, speaking to them with a soft tone omegas only reserved to their offspring. he silently watched you from a distance, a content smile stretching his lips.

you couldn't help it though, your instincts urged you to cater for those two little girls. they only had mitsuya as a parent, and despite everything, there were some things he could never give them, both as an alpha and a man.

what they needed was a delicate presence and maternal affection. and being nurtured by a gang member all their life, they quickly claimed you as their second parent, deeply appreciative of the care you showed them. and mitsuya couldn't feel more grateful for how gentle you were, how patient you acted while never giving up on their poor little family.

you looked like a married couple, nagging after energetic little pups and forcing wet kisses upon their rosy cheeks.

you would take a walk each day, with luna holding one of your hand and mana the other. the picture was perfect in mitsuya's mind. he walked a bit behind you to have a clear view of your surroundings, growing protective the moment you stepped outside. you let yourself be unaware and defenceless whenever he was with you, entirely focusing on the girls. mitsuya was a hundred percent dependable for that matter, as he would never let anything harm any of you.

coming home, you would wash their little noses and chubby hands, then tuck them in the nest you permanently built in one of the rooms. you smothered them with your scent, the polluted air outside having melted their already light puppy scents. you came to hate the lack of presence of either your or mitsuya's scent on the girls ; you had to claim them one way or another. the absence of their real parents pushed you to feel even more invested in their wellbeing and you couldn't help but want to claim them in a way their mother never did.

mitsuya swore he could have married you right here. he finally had the little family he wished for, linked together by a tender bond. will someone ever be able to love his sisters the way you do?

you're a literal blessing, like you were made for him and his little sisters. the ideal partner he longed for, the support he wished he always had when all those responsibilities became too much.

the way you dedicated yourself to him and his family like a doting omega, turned him into an even more enamored alpha. preciously treating you like his other half. you are someone he will never let go of. he knows he'll never be able to find an omega more suited for him.

and mitsuya couldn't lie when he saw you act that way, it wouldn't be true to say it didn't stir up some primitive instincts of his. you were such a capable omega, faithful and attentive, you had all the qualities of a dutiful mother. how could he not think of you that way ?

mitsuya was so ready to commit, to claim you the way a precious omega like you deserved. if your dream was to be a mother, then he'll make you bare his kids as soon as you'll allow him to, and help you take care of them, just like you're doing right now with his sisters.

he envisions you cradling your own pups in your arms, gentle touches soothing the cries of your baby, and mitsuya's loving and securing gaze falling upon you. the thought of his omega nurturing his children fills him with a primal sense of pride and possessiveness he can't shake off.

he just wants to see you embrace your role, completely indulging into his deeply hidden desires to build a stable family of his own. one he'll protect and provide for, the way his parents never did with him.

you'll love your children as much as you love luna and mana, and everything will fall into place.

#cannelle★ #omegaverse tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers a/b/o #a/b/o tokyo revengers #alpha tokyo revengers #hybrid tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers hybrid #tokyo revengers omegaverse #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers headcanon #tokyo rev x you #anime omegaverse #omega!reader #omegaverse anime #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya omegaverse #tokyo revengers omegaverse headcanons #mitsuya x you #mitsuya fluff #alpha mitsuya #mitsuya imagines #mitsuya headcanons #tokyo revengers mitsuya #alpha!mitsuya #tokyo rev x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #takashi mitsuya

[angstics]

on my chemical romance's history of racism:

(edit: i wont rewrite anything since that will create discrepancies in reblogs. however, i will include these important additions: post 1 and post 2)

cultural appropriation is a neutral term that turns negative when people co-opt a culture without consideration to its people and history, or their prejudices and privileges. the rising sun japanese flag is an imperialist symbol used during japan's occupation of other countries from 1870 to 1945 (the guardian 2019). unlike other symbols of terror, the rising sun is normalized because of the japanese government's refusal to acknowledge its history. the symbol's meaning was popularized a few years ago when people from south korea protested its legality in the 2020 tokyo olympics (bbc 2020). aware or unaware of its history, americans have long appropriated the rising sun. in part because of their fascination with japanese art, in part because of orientalism -- a fixation on asian cultures that centers "exoticism".

my chemical romance has been associated with the rising sun symbol a couple of times. frank iero used to have a tattoo of it. gerard way designed frank's killjoys outfit to include it (seen in concept art and music videos). it is often used in mcr fanart.

tokenism is when something contains limited diversity to divert criticisms for the lack of it. my chemical romance has had a very white cast of characters in their music videos and stories. in the "i dont love you" music video, a main character is in black body paint. in the casting call, they specifically asked for a white man (there is 100% an online source -- please let me know if you have it). even casting a black person for this role would place him in a video that appropriated his skin color to mark his "difference" from the light-skin female character.

the female character points to the band's main problem with tokenism. if they arent casting a white woman, theyre casting a light-skin asian woman. the woman in the "i dont love you" mv is fetishized for physical traits stereotypically attributed to east asian women: big eyes, daintiness. east asian women feature most prominently aside from the band and main characters in the "welcome to the black parade" music video and photo shoot. the photoshoot is the only place where an ashy-faced black man and ambiguously tribal? brown man are seen (brought in by photographer chris anthony per the "making of the black parade" book). the director antagonist of the danger days music videos (shown in "sing") is a japanese woman. she is the only main character of color in the music videos and the killjoys: california comics. the focus of this post is on my chemical romance, but the comics are important to showcase that the reality is never "color-blind casting" or "limited roles". it's mostly white creatives (band members and directors and artists) who ignore non-white people when they cant use them, reflected as much by gerard way years later (nyt 2019).

"japan takes over the world" is a media trope that is built on the late 20th century fear of the return of imperial japan. this trope frames japanese people as unique aggressors, feeding into "yellow peril" fears of asian people "taking over" the white race. this trope is suggested all over the danger days universe, where the corporation BL/ind overthrows the US government. the appropriation of the japanese modern flag and lettering on the killjoys outfits, the primary BL/ind villain being a japanese person who only speaks japanese in videos, the official BL/ind website having a ".jp" domain and english-japanese translations. japanese people and culture only exist in this universe to decorate and threaten.

the point of this post is not to punish my chemical romance. in the decade+ since, they have made meaningful changes -- the sing it for japan project to aid japan during the 2011 earthquake-tsunami, developing diversity in gerard's comics / tv show, a mexican-american main character in the 2020 summoning video. people of color treated as real goddamn people.

however. all these faults exist in frozen time. there is no discussion attached to the work. so anyone, fan or casual, may come across it and not notice or care for these important issues. i know all this shit and i still fail to see instances of what i highlighted. it's difficult locating not only your own prejudices but those of others. those you look up to.

"my chemical romance" is the product of many people from 2001 to 2013. many of these people were male, white, american, and/or, most radically, liberal. clearly laying out what they did wrong is important. being careful with history and culture and personhood is important. prioritizing growth is important. constantly. forever.

#mcr #this has been weighing on me for a long time. i just didnt know how to say it. why i should say it if someone else already has #and well. thru writing this i figured everyone should say it to really understand it #qessay

[bones4thecats]

When Their S/O Is A Member Of Tenjiku

Type of Writing: #3 - Poll Result Characters: Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho, Shion Madarame, and Hanma Shuji Name: When Their S/O Is A Member Of Tenjiku Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: I have a massive headache rn, and my classes are kicking my ass... thankfully I can still write though! Ha! Fuck you math!

Spoilers for: Tenjiku Arc

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🎴 You and him were fairly similar when it came to your lives

🎴 Years ago, you both had met at his orphanage, since your parents were getting troubled with raising you, they had no choice but to leave you in their care

🎴 Due to this, you, him, and Kakucho, all grew up creating this kingdom you imagined, one that you guys named Tenjiku

🎴 The two boys and you trained for years together, growing similar styles of hitting and kicking, you guys all banded together after leaving that old place and grew to make your dreams real

🎴 Now, just because you are a founding member and are hailed as the '(Ruler) of Tenjiku', that doesn't stop your boyfriend from being protective

🎴 If Izana is as obsessed with you as he is with getting revenge on Mikey, you better believe you're going to be far from in danger

🎴 Whenever a fight emerges, Izana would pledge to put his own life in danger to protect you, and he did once

🎴 During the fight of Tenjiku vs Toman, hearing the sound of him ordered Kakucho dead made you leap into action, grabbing Kisaki's gun and pulling it away to order one of your personal followers to destroy it

🎴 While Kisaki was about to stab you, Izana kicked him away while ordering Tenjiku to flee, saying the fight was over, due to the alert of police arriving

🎴 You're a strong fighter, yes, but, much like with most of the Tokyo Revengers characters, he will still be protective over you

🎴 He also loves looking at you in the uniform, it was very close in appearance to his, though, yours was slightly longer with the coat and your pants were a hint tighter

🎴 Izana also enjoys to fight with you by his sides, the only time he'll ever not be protective over you is when he knows that you can whoop your enemy's ass, and most of the time, you do

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🍂 He is far looser when it comes to being protective over you

🍂 If you can handle most of the members of Tenjiku, you can definitely handle yourself against other gang members that try attacking you

🍂 Kakucho and you grew up best friends with Izana, from the moment you got out of the orphanage to the day you created Tenjiku, you were always beside your friends

🍂 Unlike Izana, Kakucho trusts you when you jump into a fight, you know your limitations better than anyone else ever could, it was your body after all

🍂 Now, more like Izana, he does like seeing you in the uniform, especially when you would slap on his jacket above your own to prove you could handle it when fighting

🍂 He obviously play-fights with you, and it makes every passerby's heart melt seeing two of the strongest members of Tenjiku mess around like a love-struck teenage couple, which you kinda are

🍂 If anyone gives you trouble, such as Ran or Rindou, he always jumps in, despite your protests

🍂 Whenever you guys get into fights, he tries keeping an eye on you no matter where he is

🍂 He may drift a hint farther away from you than intended, but, he always, always, has an eye on you, whether it be from one of his followers or from his own self

🍂 After he got injured at the Tenjiku vs Toman fight, you visit his hospital room to help him heal his emotional trauma, after all, watching your best friend sacrifice himself for you, nearly dying yourself, and seeing your S/O get injured from being stabbed and shot in the leg for escape isn't pleasurable

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🌪️ With Shion, everyone is scared how you're with this guy

🌪️ He's literally called 'Mad Dog' because of how bloodthirsty and mind-driven insane he is! Many wonder what the hell you found attractive about him

🌪️ Unlike Shion, you were an angel, you would help the injured members after a fight, since you rarely ever had to jump in to rescue any, and when you did, you would just throw a distraction in

🌪️ Perhaps that's why he first noticed you, you were so graceful with your attacks while he was more blunt and rough

🌪️ Shion is extremely possessive and protective of you, the only feeling this guy has ever had for years of being a delinquent was a thirst for blood and complete anger

🌪️ Whenever you end up fighting, he gets himself out of his own ordeal to get the guy attacking you down, you were his top priority to keep safe, he could care less about himself

🌪️ Speaking of which, because of that motto, he gets injured constantly

🌪️ For an example, when you guys were arrested after watching Izana die and Kakucho get wheeled off to the hospital, you guys would try sending letters to one another, or try talking while in juvie

🌪️ Even while you're in juvie, he gets into fights to make sure all the other members know you're his and nobody else's

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☠️ Crazy hot duo? Crazy hot duo.

☠️ Hanma is described as an adrenaline junkie, and whenever asked, you would describe him with these main terms; chaotic, flirty- yet caring, a definite adrenaline junkie, and a solid protector

☠️ You have been involved with Kisaki's plans ever since Hanma was, since you were just as good of an ally as your boyfriend was

☠️ Being involved with those plans put you in a ton of danger, and, despite Hanma giving you the option of leaving after each checkpoint, you denied him

☠️ You were there when Baji joined Valhalla, you were there watching from the nearby roof as Kisaki killed Emma, you were even there when the Tenjiku vs Toman assault began

☠️ As Hanma grabbed Kisaki and drove away, you followed, hidden away from Draken and Takemichi on their own bikes, making sure you weren't getting caught by the police like your old allies

☠️ Watching as the bike crashed, probably due to Kisaki's panicking, since, if Takemichi and Draken take him and Hanma down, they could be in jail for a while, oh who am I kidding? Probably for life, they did kill Mikey's sister and plan other things, after all

☠️ You noticed that Draken's bikie wasn't nearby so you stopped yours and began to sneak where Hanma and the braid-wearing blonde fought

" Hanma? Hun, you there? " " Either it's me or I've possessed some else's body. "

☠️ Chuckling as you turned the corner, you covered your mouth and kneeled to help him up, whipping the blood from his forehead with a cloth you carried, you giggled lightly as he cocked an eyebrow

" What's so funny, ya' like seeing your boyfriend injured or somethin'? " " Not really, but I cannot lie when I say this, you're hot with blood on you. " " I don't look hot without blood on me? " " Lord, here we go again... "

#Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Rev #Tenjiku #Tokyo Revengers x Reader #Tokyo Rev x Reader #Tenjiku x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Gang Member! Reader #Izana Kurokawa #Izana Kurokawa x Reader #Kakucho #Kakucho x Reader #Shion Madarame #Shion Madarame x Reader #Hanma Shuji #Hanma Shuji x Reader

[pretty-little-mind33]

Masterlist & Intro

Welcome! My name is Sky. I'm 19! My guidelines are simple. Minors must NOT interact with anything that has (nsfm) as a warning in this blog. Thank you so much for respecting that boundary :)

This blog is mostly a place where I'll post my works for multiple fandoms depending on what mood I'm in lol or what inspires me!

Here is a list of the character/fandoms I'll most definitely write for (if you would like, please feel free to request something and I'll try and write it)

- Conrad Fisher - The Summer I Turned Pretty

STARLIGHT - You've always felt inadequate compared to Belly, but it's possible you never had a reason to.

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET - When Conrad Fisher catches his secret girlfriend masturbating, he loses his mind. SMUT (nsfm)

- Kaz Brekker - Six Of Crows/Shadow and Bone

WEAKNESS - Kaz Brekker isn't insecure…

- James Potter - Harry Potter/Marauders era

KING OF MY HEART - You and James are friends with benefits until daisies and an incident with one asshole Quidditch player stirs up some hidden (or not-so-hidden) feelings.

MAROON - James usually doesn't like violence but he'll fight anyone who bad-mouths his girlfriend.

LAVENDER HAZE - Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore. SMUT (nsfm)

THIS LOVE - Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL- You've never had your first kiss — well not until you stupidly kiss the boy you've had a crush on since forever, the same boy who happens to be your best friend.

FOOLISH ONE - James was and would never be yours.

TIMELESS - James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different.

*** related: muggle!reader ***

ENCHANTED pt.1 - Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London.

SWEETER THAN FICTION pt.2 - After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.

***

YOU ARE IN LOVE - You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.

GLITCH - You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of. SMUT (nsfm)

WILDEST DREAMS - Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

INVISIBLE STRING - When you're having cramps, your boyfriend doesn't even think of shying away from helping you in anyway he can.

STAY BEAUTIFUL- When you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, James comforts you.

SANTA BABY - James wants to make his family's Christmas special.

SNOW ON THE BEACH - When your eleven-year-old son comes home for Christmas break in tears, you and James are instantly worried.

NEW ROMANTICS - When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

COLD AS YOU - You want your boyfriend's attention again.

I THINK HE KNOWS - Your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk. SMUT (nsfm)

BEGIN AGAIN - James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?

END GAME - Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…

GOLD RUSH - You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

DAYLIGHT - When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust. SMUT (nsfm)

THE ALCOTT - You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple… until it isn't so simple anymore.

• Sirius Black

• Remus Lupin

• Poly!Marauders

- Tangerine - Bullet Train

| Tan blurb - seeing him gradually lose clothing items on the train

MASTERMIND - Since the mission in Tokyo, you wanted Tangerine out of your life as soon as possible. Instead, he stormed back in to save you from yourself.

DRESS - Your best friends promised never to tell you about their dangerous job. However, all goes to shit when you find out another way.

NO BODY, NO CRIME - You meet a sexy, dangerous, stranger on a train. And he somehow ends up kidnapping you?

HITS DIFFERENT - You and Tangerine discover you love sucking on his fingers. SMUT (nsfm)

CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT - After accidentally killing your kidnappers, the twins—especially Tangerine—seem determined to keep you away from harm.

DON'T BLAME ME - You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way. SMUT (nsfm)

LABYRINTH- When you go to steal a silver case from the Twins, they quickly realize you're under duress.

- Alexei Vronsky - Anna Karenina

MY SUNSHINE - When Alexei brought you a kitten, he didn't think you would spend your entire time with her.

- Sergei Kravinoff - Kraven The Hunter

YOU ALL OVER ME - You meet a dangerous stranger in the woods. SMUT (nsfm)

#the summer i turned pretty #shadow and bone #marauders fic #marauders #peter parker #james potter #conrad fisher #harry potter #six of crows #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #james potter x reader #conrad fisher x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train fanfic #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #james potter x you #marauders imagine #james potter imagine #james potter imagines #james potter fic #count alexei vronsky x reader #anna karenina 2012 #kraven the hunter #kraven the hunter x reader

[tenjikyu]

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘥 - 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ gn!reader , reader is biologically related to izana , reader is 15 years old , reader has a family complex (wants to make the perfect family) kakucho is aged up to nineteen in this (i REFUSE to believe he’s fourteen, and he is NOT aged up for sexual reasons, only for peace of mind.)

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ SPOILERS FOR TOKYO REV - S3 - TENJUKU ARC

❤︎ at the ripe old age of 15, you had already become one of the most respected members of one of the most dangerous gangs around.

❤︎ not only were you insane with your fists, you were a master with using weapons such as bats and longer tools, effectively making them extensions of your own body. there’s only one person you have to thank for all of your insane talent and agility.

❤︎ your big brother, izana kurokawa.

❤︎ while izana is more agile and quick with kicks and hits, easily outdoing his brother manjiro sano, he utilised his knowledge and whacked it into your skull at a young age, intent on having you able to defend yourself should you need it.

❤︎ growing up in the orphanage wasn’t easy, but your big brother and his servant (who you deemed your 2nd big brother, much to the distaste of izana, but he got over it eventually) made it a smidge easier.

❤︎ eventually, a man by the name of shinichiro sano came into your lives, claiming to be your big brother. at this stage, izana was 8, kakucho was 9 and you were 5 years old.

❤︎ of course, izana instantly attached himself to shinichiro, seemingly getting the big brother he had always craved.

❤︎ you also liked shinichiro, you went on walks with the two constantly and he spoke to you about the two of yours half little sister, emma.

❤︎ this went on until izana was 14, when he found out that shinichiro had been lying this entire time. that’s the day that you lost a few of your screws.

❤︎ the betrayal you felt was not that of izana’s, but the pure heartbreak of seeing your brother loose the thing he craved in life so much. from that day forward, your 10 year old mind was made up.

❤︎ if you couldn’t have blood family, you would simply build your own.

❤︎ and when izana formed tenjuku, you seemed all of the members, old and new, out like a dog.

❤︎ you examined every delinquent around you, pondering how good of a brother they would make, big or small.

❤︎ the entirety of tenjuku knew to never question you. not when you came back with blood mixed in your hair, not when you came back smelling of tequila, not when you came back sobbing and begging for your big brother, knocking anybody else out who tried to console you.

❤︎ izana’s word was law and by extension yours was too. izana rarely left you alone and whenever you had to run an errand without him, if you didn’t have kakucho to follow you around then he would throw a huge fit, screaming about how you’re going away.

❤︎ you hated seeing your big brother in such a horrid state, and with issues of abandonment of your own, you also hated not being by his side. the both of you shared everything, and any moment spent apart felt like agony and fear.

❤︎ of course, izana did give you freedom, he’s not fully whack after all, his allowance of you leaving his side is very.. selective.

❤︎ the 4 most trusted with you are as followed:

❤︎ kakucho, your 2nd big brother and his most loyal follower. if anything where to happen to izana then you’d be left in kakucho’s care.

❤︎ 2nd is kokonoi. while he may be relatively new and was brought here by force, he can see the treasurers mind slowly fork into how he had wanted it, therefore making him loyal, not to mention the two of you are the same age and get along quite well.

❤︎ shared third and fourth place are the haitani brothers. they’re fellow siblings who share overprotective tendencies and also work side by side, so he trusts them enough if the previous two aren’t available. you also get along well enough with ran, and pretty well with rindou.

❤︎ when izana eventually forms a plan to kill emma sano, your originally believed-to-be little sister, it was your word that saved her life. you told izana that you didn’t want her to die, how you wanted to keep her for the family you were trying oh-so-hard to build for him. it only took a few words and some teary eyes before the plan was completely discarded without negotiations.

❤︎ izana could never bring you to tears, and today was not going to be the day he broke that promise to himself. kisaki was pissed at you, however he knew he couldn’t do a thing about it. and so, he kept quiet…

❤︎ until he found the perfect time to strike back.

❤︎ the battle of tenjuku vs toman was lead by manjiro sano, as he wasn’t mourning his sister. he was more concerned, however you assured izana that victory would still come to the both of you.

❤︎ you had izana, and izana had you.

❤︎ that’s all that mattered once izana finally met with mikey.

❤︎ the face off between the two brothers, manjiro sano and izana kurokawa was in full swing. instead of mourning and loss, manjiro had determination in his eyes. he vowed to himself that he would bring his two lost siblings back home with him.

❤︎ fighting commenced, arguments broke out, there was nothing but yelling and screaming.

❤︎ as the punches and kicks continued to fly, the two boys gave eachother the appearance of death. they were sore, bloody and you wanted nothing more than to support your big brother, however you stayed up high, doing as izana commanded.

❤︎ it was only when izana broke the ice to mikey, giving him an opening, that you finally had your presence known.

“IZANA DON’T DO IT” your screeches were held by the entire battlefield. you were dressed in a long black hoodie (yk the one senju wears? yeah one like that) and had your legs poking out of it, designed in mind of your safety and concealment.

you raced down towards the brothers, affectingly blocking the two off from eachother.

“big brother, let’s hear him out”. you whisper, afraid of what izana might consider this as. would he see you as a betrayal? would he disown you? would he throw a fit and strike you?

no, izana put his hands down. he walked over gently towards you, and held you in his arms.

he heard out mikey, listening to his speech on how despite their lack of blood, the fact is shinichiro decided to take him in and therefore are family.

❤︎ because of you, i firmly believe that izana would not be as batshit as he canonically is. i think his brotherly instincts would kick in and his sanity is stronger then it originally was. because of this, izana is more open to welcoming manjiro into his heart. in his head he thinks that maybe, just maybe…

❤︎ taking his frustrations with shinichiro out on mikey isn’t the right course of action.

❤︎ and as that thought is processed through his head, the sound of a gunshot can be heard ricocheting through the hair.

❤︎ it strikes not izana, not manjiro, not you…

.

. .

❤︎ it strikes kakucho right between his ribs.(please someone get this reference)

❤︎ yours and izana’s horrified screeches are heard throughout the entire arena. tears were welling up into your eyes as you hid yourself into izana more.

“KAKUCHO NO!” izana’s throat hoarsed out from all of the screaming, holding onto his servant brother tightly, cradling him in his arms.”

you feel your own body being grasped, however it wasn’t izana. no, mikey held you into his chest and silently cried, looking at kisaki with a glare so sharp it could cut him clean.

just when mikey thought he had finally completed his mission, kisaki once more ruined EVERYTHING.

kisaki goes onto his speech about how nothing goes his way, and how takemichi was a repetitive flaw in his plans and was nothing but a nuisance. he finished the speech by saying this:

“(y/n), you’ve been a nuisance since the beginning. if it wasn’t for you, emma would be dead and manjiro sano would’ve been MINE to mold, my perfect manjiro. i refuse to acce-“

before he’s swiftly knocked in the head by an oh-so farmilliar baton.

“the day we allow you to lay a finger on that kid is the day we’re dead”. ran scorched, his eyes burning with hatred. like that, the higher ups of tenjuku, as well as takemichi and draken, chased kisaki into the streets, where his life would soon cease to exist.

you stay with your two brothers, cradling kakucho as the life left his eyes. you always loved kakucho’s eyes, you thought they were the most mesmerising thing to look at. they were the eyes of your big brother, the one who swore to bash in anyone who dared wrong you.

as kakucho’s last breath was taken, he held your hand on one, with izana’s hand in the other.

only then, could you finally register the return of the tenjuku members, as well as the sound of the police force and an ambulance on the way.

dragging you away from kakucho’s deceased corpse was one of the hardest things izana had ever done, but with the help of his new little brother, mikey was safely able to relocate the two of you back at the sano household.

❤︎ the funeral was 4 days after his body was found, and his ashes were buried into the grave of the sano’s. mikey himself insisted that your family was his, and since he had no remaining family to claim his ashes, he would take them into their family grave.

❤︎ that was the moment izana accepted mikey as his little brother.

❤︎ after kakucho’s passing, it took a long time for things to get back to normal. emma welcomed the two of you in with open arms, missing the two of you dearly. she sobbed for three hours straight before she knocked herself out, promptly put into her bed by you.

❤︎ it turns out, the two of you fit in with your siblings quite well! since emma didn’t die in this timeline, mikey is still as joyful as he was before the battle. he would tease you and izana, surprise hug you and beg izana to go riding with him.

❤︎ emma loved having her two brothers back as well, she loves practising different makeup styles on your face, as well as teaching izana how to cook!

❤︎ kokonoi and inui had also rekindled their friendship, and welcomed you with open arms! nowadays, the three of you are a (WORKING) trio, as well as making friends with many different members of toman.

❤︎ izana also made peace with toman, and was welcomed with open arms. he is often seen with chifuyu reading manga together! (you tease him for it but love how he’s found a passion, as well as a buddy to share it with.) (chifuyu also called izana “brother” once and izana burst into tears bc he thought it was adorable. chifuyu is now promptly invited to the sano/kurokawa dinners)

❤︎ of course, the two of you are still rarely apart. you shared a bedroom for the first month of living with your family before finally moving into a bedroom of your own.

❤︎ on izana’s 19th birthday, a year after joining with the sano’s, you gifted him a baby picture of the three of you at the orphanage you had managed to dig up. he didn’t let you go for the rest of his birthday.

❤︎ you visit kakucho at least once a week with your brothers and sister, as well as bringing snacks and insence to light. these moments are your favourite, as they aren’t spent in mourning.

❤︎ they’re spent with your entire family, laughing, chatting and updating kakucho on big news.

❤︎ time spent with YOUR found family ♡.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers tenjuku #tenjuku #tokyo revengers izana #izana x reader #izana x male reader #male reader #sibling hcs #izana kurokawa #izana #tr izana #manjiro sano #emma sano #sano family

[chochuuya]

bar man.

characters that i think suit are: takeomi akashi, ran haitani, kanji mochizuki, yasuhiro muto, south terano, shion madarame, baji keisuke & hanma shuji or.. your choice!

disclaimer/note: fem!reader, might be ooc, aged up.. i'm taking about he is single and ready to mingle, he is possessive and bold, usage of pet names, mentions of alcohol & smoking, overall fluff (◡ ‿ ◡ .)

wc: 1.6k [1613]

he is a friend that you recently met in a bar down the streets of tokyo. a pleasant man to be with, honestly.

for some reason, he is not present in his usual timing.

a random guy sitting beside you noticed that you’re alone and started up a conversation, your attention completely on him that you didn’t even notice him walking in, smoking a cigar.

irritated and impatient, he grabbed your face and blew a smoke onto you.

“oi, stop talking.”

your cheeks were pressed together without warning and you coughed at the ill-scented smoke of the cigarette as you closed your eyes.

“what the hell are you doing wasting your pretty lips talking to a stranger?” his tone pissed off and firm.

“he was just keeping me company. i thought you weren’t coming!”

“well, i am here. and he won’t need to keep you company anymore. he’s in my way.” he said, looking annoyed, as he pushes the stranger away from you. the stranger gives you a dirty look and left the bar.

he then took a seat beside you and placed both of his hands on your knees.

“did you miss me?”

you chuckled in amusement. his confidence and ego is something else. it’s fascinating.

“not really.”

“you’re lying! if you didn’t miss me why would you be smiling?” he said smirking, leaning his head closer to you. his face just inches away from your own.

“you’re such a liar, missy. you know you love the attention i give you. i don’t see anyone here as perfect as you. perfect little (y/n), so delicate and vulnerable.”

you scoot further away as you turn your head. “geez.. i would actually like you even more if you quit smoking for once.”

he rolls his eyes and puts out the cigar then places his hand back onto you. “i know how to make you like me even more, i know what buttons to press, baby. i know it all. do you know what I mean?”

with an eyebrow raised and a sip of out your drink taken, you asked out of curiousity. “enlighten me then?”

he leaned back into his seat and ordered an ale from the bartender. he waited for his drink before taking a sip and looking to you.

“the way to make you love me is to make you jealous.” the gent turned to your other side and smirked at a lady that was looking in your direction.

he then turned back to you.

“did it work? you’re all mine, your attention is on me and me only, baby.”

“why would i be jealous when you’re not even my man?” you deadpanned.

“oh really? maybe we should fix that then, darling. wouldn’t you want me to be your man? to spend nights with me? to be with me 24/7?” he said as his tone dripping with arrogance.

“i don’t like men who smoke too much.”

“i can quit, i promise. if i quit, would you date me then?” he said looking genuinely interested and no hesitation.

“date..?”

“what? did i say something wrong?” he asked looking at you as if you’re being a bit ridiculous. “you’re acting surprised when it should be the most obvious thing in the world, i can see and feel the flirting from both parties. it’s not like anyone can deny the chemistry we have. you obviously have a crush on me. don’t lie.”

you left him on heard as you let his words sink in.

the chap’s face dropped as he watched you drink quietly, before he spoke again. “fine, you want to play the hard-to-get game do you? it might make me want you more. but know this, no one plays the game better than me, and i know how to win.”

“i won't stop until i get what i want.”

you let out a scoff as a way to taunt him. “sure.”

“you like to play dangerous games, huh? good thing i like the danger.” he chuckled in amusement.

you take the cancer stick out of his mouth and push it on the ashtray with a smirk. you’re going for the kill now. “danger? like your past days?”

his face dropped as you killed the cigar, he let out a quiet chuckle before looking down at you and clenching his jaw in annoyance.

“what do you know about my past?” he looked at you firmly, waiting for you to answer him and it’s the first time you saw his mood change.

you simply shrugged your shoulders as you drink, hiding a smile. oh, you got him now.

“you aren’t exactly good at hiding that enormous tattoo on your body that’s peeking its way into the world.”

he kept staring at you and you saw his eyes looking over you, judging you to see if you were actually truthful or just bluffing. he stayed quiet for a moment.

“you were looking at my tattoos? you must really like me, sweetheart.. now, explain to me what you know about my past, or you’re leaving the bar with one less tooth.” he was smiling but his gaze was still sharp and intimidating.

you laughed quietly. “is that a threat? i wasn’t even judging you.”

“oh, you have no idea how threatening i could be. so, do talk, my dear,”

he kept sitting right by you, and you start to feel him get a lot closer as he takes a puff from the cigar still blowing the smoke on your face.

“and you know i can be a bit violent when i need to, but to someone as delicate and cute as you, i will make an exception. now tell me darling, what do you know?”

you rolled your eyes. you’re starting to believe that he’s just all muscles.

“and here i thought we were getting onto something. it’s not that hard to open and read the newspaper or something. i’ve seen those tattoos on the news alright? chill out.”

“and you know those tattoos are associated to gangs, right? so i must be quite dangerous then.. don’t you think?” he smirked as he continues to stare at you.

“tell me one more thing, do you like dangerous men?”

that caught you off guard and you actually broke into laughter. “you- you really are something!”

“why is that so hilarious? you’re not afraid of me?” he asked, visibly confused. it seems your reaction is something he did not expect but he was still grinning.

“why should i be? you’re just a man who have moved on from the things that you did back in those days.. right?”

“you’re a very perceptive woman, i’ll admit.”

“the past is the past, it stays in my mind but i won't let it stop me from living in the present.”

the gent smiled, reaching out to pat your cheek, his fingers brushing against your soft skin.

“so, i don’t scare you? then what are you waiting for? to marry me?”

“...”

TAKEOMI, ran, mochi, mucho, SOUTH, shion, baji, hanma.

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

this fic is a celebratory post for me getting more than 150 friends on tumblr! thank you sm for staying and liking my works as much as i enjoy writing them (｡・//ε//・｡)♡ as usual, all likes & reblogs are vv much appreciated~

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers scenario #tokyo revengers fic #takeomi akashi #takeomi x reader #ran haitani #ran x reader #kanji mochizuki #mochi x reader #yasuhiro muto #mucho x reader #south terano #south x reader #shion madarame #shion x reader #baji keisuke #baji x reader #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #🐯 luna writes #🐯 luna's fics