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seeingivy · 4 months

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meet and greet

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends older brother fic

previous part linked here

sukuna often comes home to you.

it’s never without warning - a text from you, begging to be freed from your roommates who apparently can’t keep their hands off of each other - and then you’re settled onto his couch, into one of his blankets, when he comes home.

sukuna would never be one to deny you. and on the third week, sukuna reasons that it’s practical. giving you a key to his apartment. one for you to keep, so you didn’t have to bend over and snag the spare from underneath his rug everyday.

so he sets it down - right in the middle of your book - before pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting you stew in your own feelings while he showers. and when he opens the door to the bathroom, he can hear your pounding feet right before you appear before him.

“hey.”

he smiles.

“someone’s eager. can you let me put some clothes on, pretty girl?”

you look down, at the fact that sukuna’s wrapping the towel around his bare waist, and pale.

“no! no, sorry. i mean yes. sorry. i’ll come back.”

sukuna relishes in the look on your face, that you’ve scrunched up your nose and forehead at how awkward you were being, as he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. he watches as your eyes slowly open, as you empathetically mouth the word sorry again, before he shrugs.

it was a habit the two of you had fallen into, rather fast. sukuna was quick to realize that your head tended to run in ten places at once, that your mouth could barely keep up with whatever was going on in your head. and you were quick to stop - coaxed by a gentle squeeze of the shoulder - when you realized that you were going too fast and he couldn’t keep up.

“you can stay. just promise not to look.” he mumbles, grinning to himself at the pink flush that goes down your neck as he gestures for you to follow.

sukuna watches as you sit pretty on his bed, fists curled up in your lap, and your eyes dutifully shut as he quickly throws on a pair of clothes. he stops himself from talking too fast, taking the second to watch you, observe you like this.

at you listening to him. so obediently.

“are you decent?” you ask, eyes still pinched shut.

“almost never.”

“you know what i meant.” you deadpan.

“yes, y/n. i’m wearing clothes.” he murmurs.

sukuna brings his hands around your cheeks, slowly pulling you up into his embrace as he feels you slowly settle against him, your hands warm on his biceps.

“had something you wanted to say?” he murmurs, lips warm on your forehead as you shudder.

you focus in on his tattoo, curling down the length of his shoulder, tracing the inked skin with your fingertips. you swallow down the retort that you have, that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and therefore wasn’t fully clothed or decent, and decide to save it for another time.

and try to figure out the best way, the most appropriate way, to broach what sukuna had just given you.

“sukuna.”

“hm?”

“a key to your apartment?” you whisper.

“that’s right.” he murmurs.

you press yourself flesh to him, arms wrapped underneath his, as you feel the warmth run to your face. it’s moments like these that you can barely even look at him, because talking and maintaining contact with his eyes simultaneously had proven to be a difficult feat.

he made you nervous. you know that he uses it to his advantage.

like he was right now. purposely dropping the key on you, only to fully talk when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. you knew that sukuna had to be aware. of how he made you feel. you’ knew he was the observant type. and that he was perceptive too.

it’s almost too precise. too intentional, the way he touches you. like you're glass in his hands, only touching you where you touch him first.

in almost two weeks, his lingering brushes haven’t gone past your hips or your thighs, his warm kisses stopping right at your neck. it was entirely different to the haphazard, almost callous hands that you were used to, in your granted very limited experience.

it made your entire body twitch. though you suppose that’s the effect that sukuna just has on people.

“you ever think we’re going a little too fast?” you ask.

“did i ask you to move in with me?”

“no.”

“did i propose marriage?”

you scoff.

“no.”

“put a kid in you?”

“obviously not.”

sukuna laughs, right before pushing you back on the bed, ignoring your yelps as he all but crawls on top of you, his necklace hovering right above your lips as he smiles down at you.

“then how are we moving too fast?” he asks.

“you can’t just give me a key to your apartment. what if i’m a serial killer?”

“right. i’m going to get stabbed by a knife wrapped in a sparkly pink bow.”

“you could! have you never watched criminal minds? people will do anything these days.” you defend.

sukuna pauses, before he slowly dips down, lips warm on your cheek.

“are you planning on murdering me anytime soon?” he whispers.

“no.”

he responds with a kiss, before latching his lips straight to your neck.

“are you going to secretly plot to poach the apartment from me?”

“no.”

this time his lips linger for too long in that spot, the pressure increasing so fast that it makes you can’t even stop the yelp from coming out of your mouth even if you wanted to.

“are you going to steal from me?”

“maybe your shirts.” you murmur.

“maybe my shirts.” he repeats, resembling an affirmation. like he’s giving approval.

sukuna finally releases the spot on your neck, which you’re sure will purple over by tomorrow, as he brings his left hand down into your hair.

“you have weird fucking roommates. don’t think i haven’t noticed that you keep coming back here to study. to have some peace and quiet. just take the key and use the space. what’s mine is yours.”

you wrap your hand around the silver chain, pulling him closer to you as you muster your best, more intense stare for him. but sukuna just thinks that you oddly resemble a kitten when you do it and swallows down his laugh.

“promise i won’t disturb you?”

“disturb? no. distract, however? i imagine that’s nearly impossible for you to do.”

“hey. i would leave you alone if you asked me to.”

“why would i ever ask you to do that?” he responds, pushing off the bed and holding his hand out to you as you both pad out of his bedroom and back out to the kitchen.

on friday, sukuna sends you a message from his work email.

Dear Y/N, Are you free tonight? Best, Sukuna

you snicker, as you open up the email chain and type your reply.

dear king of my ass, i knew the age gap was going to bite us in the butt. did you just send me an EMAIL? are you about to invite me to a NURSING HOME? your friendly neighborhood spiderman, y/n

the response comes back extremely fast.

dear queen of my dick, did you learn how to write emails from a cereal box? have some decorum. and i’m only two years older than you, for your information. my colleagues have decided to take my phone for the day in their very futile efforts at stopping me from arguing with our boss. and naturally, the group of them have decided to look through my phone and now have every intention to meet you. can you meet us for drinks at six? the green goblin, sukuna

you respond back just as fast.

dear prince of cooties, interesting. who are these clowns? and why do they know your phone passcode when you won’t even tell me? >:( (your response is contingent on my arrival, traitor) member of the order of the phoenix, y/n

you step off the train, nervously waiting for a response, as you sprint up to your apartment to find a for a good outfit to wear. that would impress sukuna and his friends.

the mere thought of it fills you with anxiety when you think about it. that sukuna’s friends would be domineering, as intense, if not even more than he was. and that it would be very easy for you to embarrass him.

your royal stinkiness, do i need to come over and shut you up? you’re yapping an awful lot. and our resident pain in the ass only noticed - and badgered me to invite you to our plans - when he saw my lock screen. i’ll meet you at yours at five thirty. your most beloved death eater, sukuna

there’s a very simple solution to your problem. the only person who can help you with your outfit is your roommate, mai.

sukuna never found it in himself to police what a woman wears. mainly because it never did him any good in the past. a high heel to the foot, getting yanked out of the bar by his hair, and worst of all, losing the hair cells in his ear from the screaming.

but you can’t be serious. there’s no way he’s going to let you wear that.

“uh, you can come in. just be quiet. mai has one of her guys over. i just need to finish my makeup.”

and change your outfit.

the retort dies on his tongue as follows you through your dorm, only now acutely aware of the age difference between the two of you, as the smell of sex reeks in the foyer, reminding him too vividly of when he was in college four years ago.

you drag him straight into your room by the wrist, sitting down at your vanity, as sukuna lingers around your room - his hands on all of your little trinkets - as you brush the last of the powders on your cheeks.

“this is perverted.” he states.

you turn around to find your sonny angel in his hand, as you stand up and snatch it back from his hands before glaring at him.

“don’t talk about her like that. it’s a special edition.”

“it isn’t wearing any clothes.”

“i could throw you out for the same reason but you don't see me doing that. put her back. "

you settle back into your vanity as he comes up behind you, smiling at you from the mirror before resting his arms right at your sides. he bends down and presses a kiss into your bare shoulder, his eyes quickly wavering down before meeting yours again.

thank god for mai.

“are you going to wear that?” sukuna asks, carefully picking his words.

he watches as you turn back and look at him, eyes wide.

“do you not like it?” you murmur.

“do you like it, y/n?” he asks.

you swallow hard.

“what do you mean?” you ask.

sukuna knows for a fact that he’s right. that in the three weeks that he’s been privy to be this close to you, what he’s gathered is correct. and he desperately hates that he has to wrestle you out of this outfit now, because there’s no way he was going to watch you twitch and shuffle in your seat the entire night.

for reasons that are entirely lost to him, you’re not very comfortable with certain parts of your body. he can tell from the clothes you pick out, from the way you tend to shift nervously and yank your own shirts down when you feel something might be showing too much.

he can gather as much. you’re not particularly fond of your chest. you tend to dress more modestly when it comes to the shirts you wear, always layered and hardly revealing. you’re not nervous when it comes to your legs. he's seen you sporting shorts and skirts, even going as far as letting him place his hands on your thighs.

and he’s almost positive that there’s no way that you feel comfortable now. because your shoulders are tense and you keep pulling your top up, nervously readjusting your hair onto your shoulders to cover the most that he can.

it’s only then that he notices it.

“your hair.” he states.

“what about it?”

“fix it.” he demands.

you turn back to look at him again, tilting your head to the side in confusion. and he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose, trying to get him to verbalize his embarrassing request or get on his nerves, but he’s intent on getting you back for it all the same.

“the ribbon. put it on.” he responds, grating the words through his teeth.

you feel the smile spread across your face - and immediately wipe it off when he glares at you - as you rummage through your drawer for one of your ribbons and quickly lace it in with the strands. and he gives you his approval - in the form of a kiss on the top of your head - before kneeling at your side.

“are you trying to impress me? with the shirt?” he asks.

“yeah. but it’s not a bad thing! i….i just want to look nice for you. and your friends.”

sukuna takes a deep breath. it seems that you were always deadset on testing his patience.

“who put that thought into your head? and for your sake, i’ll pretend that i didn’t hear the end of that sentence.” he utters, wholly irritated.

“about your friends-”

sukuna leans closer to you, knocking over the tiny bottles of serums and makeup on your desk, as his breath fans onto your face.

“don’t repeat it again. you’re only supposed to dress like that for me.”

you feel the embarrassment course through you.

“sor-”

“change.” he repeats, pushing off of the desk and knocking everything else off the stand.

he finds himself in your closet, pushing your hangers on the rod before yanking out one of your dresses, as you nod and shoo him out of your room. and when you shimmy the dress on, discarding the old top onto your bed.

sukuna’s satisfied by the smile you give him, that you seem to release your breath as he all but pulls you out of your apartment by your wrists.

sukuna stops you before you walk into the bar. and makes you repeat the promises he’s asked you to make. though, you really can’t understand half of them.

“okay, repeat for me.”

“i am under no circumstances allowed to divulge that we’ve known each other since we were kids. specifically to satoru. i’m not allowed to exchange social media with shoko. and i’m not going to interact with anyone at the other tables.”

“good girl.”

sukuna tucks you into his side, as he pushes open the door, and drags you to the table all the way in the back. there’s four people seated there, each clearly still in their work clothes of buttoned up shirts and blazers.

sukuna reaches for the one closest to the edge, with white hair and blue eyes, before nearly yanking him out of the booth and instructing him to sit on the other side.

“i was sitting there!” he pouts, wrapping his arm around the blonde at his side who recoils in response.

“and now she’s sitting there.” sukuna states, pushing you into the middle seat of the booth.

sukuna places his hand flat on your knee before pushing down, in an effort to stop your nervous bouncing.

“y/n. these are my coworkers, sa-”

“friends! we’re his friends!” the white haired man states again, smacking his fist on the table.

“coworkers. shoko, nanami, satoru, and suguru.” he clarifies.

“it’s nice to meet you guys. my name is y/n!”

“blink twice if you’re in danger. or if he’s holding you hostage.” shoko states, peering into your eyes.

you laugh, pleasantly surprised and less nervous by the joking demeanor - and the fact that the four of them are actually smiling at you - as you slump down into the chair. you place your hand over sukuna’s under the table and squeeze.

“how did you guys meet?” nanami asks.

“we met when we were…at the grocery store.” you state.

“meet cute!” satoru states, clapping his hands together as sukuna rolls his eyes.

and it goes decently well. because sukuna’s friends, or coworkers, aren’t what you expected in the slightest. you find out very quickly that satoru likes to annoy sukuna like it’s his one job in life, which sukuna absolutely detests. and that suguru, whose increasingly soft smiles have been helping you all night, has been dating him for the past two years.

“do you think we’re best friends in every universe, sukuna?” satoru asks.

“we aren’t best friends.”

“sukuna!”

“i would kill you in another life. and this one too, given the chance.”

and it all comes crashing down - the warm, gooey feeling you have from being liked by sukuna’s friends, that they remind you of your own - when someone pulls up a chair to the end of the booth, sitting on it backwards, slurring as they talk.

“do i know you from somewhere?”

you take in his appearance and immediately pale, realizing that you do in fact know him somewhere. and that it wasn't very pleasant. and that in the next few seconds, sukuna’s going to revert to his teenage rage when he finds out you lied about what happened at the bar a few weeks ago.

“no! no, i don’t think so.”

“do you think you would be able to quit being a nuisance for one night, zenin?” shoko asks, making it a point to light a cigarette right in his peripheral.

“i swear i know you from somewhere. have we met before?”

“i’m afraid not.” you respond.

“i’m afraid not?” he repeats, squinting his eyes together before they go wide.

wrong choice of words. because he catches on fast enough and responds by smacking his fist right on the table, before laughing.

“this is our boss, naoya zenin. unfortunately, he’s always like this.” suguru murmurs, mustering a polite smile.

“that’s what you said to me. i’m afraid not. before you bit me.” naoya clarifies.

you pale and look over at sukuna, whose ears have perked up, as he leans over his forearm, his fists clenched on the table.

“what did you just say?” sukuna asks.

“this is the crazy bitch i told you about a few weeks ago. she fucking bit me when i tried to kiss her.”

“it was an accident. you just caught me off guard!” you clarify.

and within the blink of an eye, sukuna’s punched him straight in the nose, sending the poor guy to the ground. and you can tell he makes no move to stop when he holds him up by the collar of his shirt, as nanami and satoru stand at his sides, urging him to settle down.

you remember now from the email that sukuna had stated, rather explicitly, that it took the group of them to settle him down from his boss everyday. and now his hatred for him was certainly worse.

shoko and suguru are at your sides, hands on your shoulders, as they pinch their faces up.

“c’mon, sukuna. not worth it.” nanami murmurs, trying to wrestle the poor guy out of his hands.

“are you really going to do this in front of your girl?” satoru asks, eyes wide as he glances over at you.

sukuna clears his throat, like he’s thinking, before he talks.

“suguru.”

he sighs at your side.

“really, sukuna. it’s not a good look.” he responds.

“exactly. so get her out of here.” he repeats, glaring at him, as suguru and shoko oblige start shuffling you out of the bar by your sides and taking you out into the cold of the bar.

but the windows are clear. and the shades are pulled wide open. the fact that the two of them have escorted you out leaves little to the imagination. because sukuna swings the second your feet hit the pavement and the resounding cracks that follow could only meet one thing.

“we’re sorry about him. he’s not always like this.” suguru states.

“no, he is. he’s been like this since he was like thirteen.” you murmur.

you feel your eyes widen, as suguru and shoko look over at you, confused.

“ah. you know. he’s told me before. about how he was as a kid. real emotional guy.”

“no he hasn’t.” shoko states.

suguru breaks out into a smile.

“have you known sukuna for a while? like…since you were kids?” suguru asks.

“don’t tell satoru. he made me promise. but i’ve known him since i was four. he’s my best friend’s older brother.”

and then shoko and suguru are barely able to contain their laughs, the latter nearly toppling onto the pavement as tears sprout out of his eyes. which is the exact sight that sukuna walks out to - seeing stars from his left eye as the skin swells up. he’s quick to stand at your side, as you reach out for his fists, eyeing the red smeared all over them.

“not mine. most of it anyways.”

“your eye. are you-”

“i had to let him get one in. so i don’t get fired.” he shrugs, as he look over at suguru, who is now being pulled up by satoru.

he glares.

“what the fuck is so funny?”

“y/n promised she wouldn’t let satoru find out. scouts honor.”

you watch as sukuna’s cheeks turn pink, and as he quickly waves goodbye to everyone, before he’s dragging you down the block to the car and far away from them.

“hold the ice pack there.” you scold, pushing the block back into his face as he rolls his eyes.

you’re intent on disinfecting and wrapping both of sukuna’s knuckles, because save for what he said, there’s deep cuts along the length of both of his hands.

“it’s fine.” he states.

“you know. he was bleeding too. hiv can be passed through bodily fluids.”

sukuna laughs, as you fight the urge to smile, and you carefully tie the white bandages around his wrist. his hands are calloused under yours, rough as you brush your fingers around his peeled skin and he lightly flinches.

“relax.” you murmur.

“you bit him?” he asks.

you groan.

“you’re in no position to be asking me questions right now. i’m mad at you.”

“you’re mad at me? and what did i do to be so worthy of your wrath?”

“i was having fun! i didn’t want to leave yet. and i didn’t realize you were still stupid enough to get into fights, sukuna.”

“he called you a bitch. that warranted more than what i did.”

"don't pretend that was you showing mercy, sukuna. he probably got dragged out on his feet."

"and if he didn't, i'll make sure of it on monday."

you sigh.

“now i’m never going to tell you what happened.” you state.

sukuna rests one of his hands by your side, setting the icepack down and squeezing hard as you focus in on the bandage on the other side.

“ice pack.”

“don’t want it. i want to know what happened.”

“well, i’m not going to tell you.”

sukuna reaches his hands beneath the pleats of your dress, lifting you straight onto the counter, and pushing so close into your space that you’re lying down flat on the granite of his counter. and naturally, he’s hovering over you again, his pink hair tickling your forehead.

you find it annoying that he always talks to you like this. mostly because it sends your heart straight into your throat and you find it hard to talk.

“you should really ice that. and do you always feel the need to be on top of me when you talk to me?”

“only when you’re being bratty and won’t listen.” he states.

“i wasn’t done with your hand.”

“and i wasn’t done talking to you.”

you pause.

“promise you won’t do anything.”

“absolutely not.”

“sukuna.”

“fine.”

“i was talking to him at the bar. he leaned into to kiss me. i didn’t want to, so i said i couldn’t. be asked why. if i liked him. i said “i’m afraid not” and then he leaned in again. fully this time. and i was so shocked that i accidentally bit his tongue before i could push him off. and then he called me an ugly bitch and walked away.”

sukuna pushes off the counter, yanking you off of your back by your forearms before he holds his hand out to you again. and places the ice pack flat against his eye. you shoot him a grateful smile as you finish the other bandage and then press yourself flesh against him.

“i made no promises. i’m going to punch him again on monday.” he states.

“had a feeling. you're going to get fired.” you state.

"nope."

"he'll report you to hr."

"and i'll tell them that he tried to sexually assault my girlfriend."

you feel your cheeks burn, your heart thumping fast in your chest. at sukuna so freely giving you the label, like it was almost nothing to him.

"you're crazy."

“you’re fine with it? me beating it out of him?”

“no. but that’s not going to stop you is it?” you ask.

“absolutely not. he put his hands on you. I have every intent to break them.”

always one for the dramatics.

you drag your hands down the length of his arms, before taking his hands in yours. sukuna’s never had someone look at him like this, so intently, so carefully at his injured flesh like they wanted to take the pain away away. and there’s a part of him, one that’s too proud, that won’t ask for what he wants.

“that’s fine. it’ll be your fault when you get herpes.” you state.

“herpes aren't passed by blood.” he responds.

“why do you know that? speaking from past experience?”

“shut up.”

“well, now i’m never having sex with you. you can say goodbye to that fantasy.”

“you wound me.”

you release his hands as you reach for your things by the door, slipping your shoes on as you shoot him a smile. and it’s your smile, so full and bright, that supersedes the pride.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“can you come here?”

you nod, shuffling over as you tuck the purse into the crook of your arm, and look up at him.

“you’re not going to kiss it better?” he states.

it comes out as a demand, almost sarcastic. although he didn’t mean it that way. he silently hopes that you’re able to parse out the real meaning and that you’ll oblige his request.

“needy.”

you stand on your tip toes and press a kiss to the pink near his eye, before locking your hands in with his and placing a kiss softly on top of both of the bandages.

and when sukuna leaves, he can’t wait to beat it out of naoya again on monday. just to have you tenderly wrap him back up and put him back together after.

next part linked here

an: anyways. me and my ooc sukuna agains the world. and ofc, i will divulge why suguru laughed. and what the lockscreen is. let me cook guys 😞

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linkspooky · 7 months

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I WANT YOU TO UNDERSTAND ME

It's not surprising to me that Gojo's dying monologue he spent more time talking about his fight with Sukuna than any of his students. Gojo's priority from the beginning isn't to save Megumi but to fight all-out against a strong opponent, the line is: ""The Absolute Strong. The loneliness that follows. The one who will teach you about love is..."

This fight is basically the climax of Gojo's identity crisis which has been a long running issue for him throughout the manga. He's simultaneously a self-confident individualist with an overpowering sense of "ego" and a person with little idea of who he is outside of the role in society that was given to him. Gojo went into the fight looking for someone capable of understanding him, the fight is about Gojo seeking an answer to who he is, that's why he fights and that's why he loses.

Gojo is Not Normal

Nanami's statement is misinterpreted I think.

"You live for Jujutsu. You don't wield it to protect something. You use it solely for the sake of satisfying yourself."

A lot of people took this to mean that Goo didn't care about anyone but himself, even though Gojo directly contradicts this earlier.

"I love everyone and don't feel lonely snow, but somewhere along the way there was a line I drew, not as a human but as a living creature."

He states he does love other people, if only from afar, he just doesn't understand them. Gojo can't make other people his reason to fight, because he only understands himself. He only sees himself. He can only fight for what's inside himself.

"You can make a flower bloom, you can admire it, but you can't tell that flower 'I want you to understand me'

Gojo's students are the flowers. Itadori, Fushiguro and Nobara are all named after flowers. He's raising them up to be as strong as him, he's fond of them, but he doesn't think they relate to him because he exists in a different category of other people.

A lot of people want Gojo to be a more traditional caring mentor figure like Kakashi or Aizawa they're missing what's really interesting about his character. When Nanami says "Gojo only cares about being the strongest" it's true because his entire character is written around the statement "I am the strongest". He is conceptually about what it is like to be the strongest man in existence. That is the character concept, and Gojo's entire identity crisis revolves around that he's built up his personality around being the strongest at Jujutsu and nothing else.

Gojo can only fight for his own ego and self satisfaction as Nanami says, because he has nothing else, he has no identity outside of that.

However, before I get into why I want to point out that Gojo is not normal. It's not because someone on his power level is fundamentally incapable of relating to other people, but Gojo himself...is not right in the head. He's making an active decision to choose not to empathize with people whatsoever, it's not just that it's hard to understand him, it's that they can't understand him.

Gojo talks about his students like they're members of another species. They're flowers. They can't relate to him on a human level because he's something other than human. A friend had an interesting reading on why specifically it's flowers Gojo chose for his metaphor.

Plants are less sentient than insects, they don't contemplate anything they are just taken care of by their gardener and grow towards the sun. That's how differently he sees himself from others.

I wanted to include this take from @kaibutsushidousha as well.

Gojo's not from the planet mars he's a human who has human emotions and human psychology like everyone else, so that's simply not true, but Gojo believes it is and that belief influences how he interacts with everyone.

Gojo can't see himself reflected back in other people for some reasons that aren't his fault and some reasons that are. Gojo has been from birth, treated as different from everyone around him, not for anything he really did but because he was born with a really strong jujutsu ability. He's a literal chosen one. He always seen as the six eyes user, the strongest, before he was seen as a person. His entire life has been defined entirely by the abilities he was born with, he was born to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer so of course that's what he builds his entire identity around.

Not only is he told that he's categorically different from others, but he also believes it. We know little about his early childhood besides Gege's statements that he was spoiled, but we do see later on in childhood there are people who are willing to treat Gojo normally despite the position he has as the strongest. This is when it starts being Gojo's fault that he continues to see himself as different from other people.

Shoko, Gojo's closest confidante in his schooldays after Geto's days basically tells him that. She's been with him for years and yet he still has the audacity to act like he's all alone in the world. Even when people try to treat Gojo normally and relate to him on a personal level, Gojo actively ignores their presence in his life like he did Shoko because he's not only been told he's different from other people because he's stronger, but he believes it and he's built his entire world view around it.

This is why the only person that Gojo ever let in was Geto, because Gojo believed that Geto was someone who could stand on top with others. THe only person who could believe the strongest, or teach them about love was someone equally as strong. Gojo just happening to meet another sorcerer who was special class as a teenager not only allowed him to have a friend, but fit perfectly into his narrative that he was separate from others and only someone as strong as him could understand. There are people like Shoko and Nanami who treat Gojo normally despite the fact he's the strongest, but Geto was the only one Gojo met in because he met the qualifiaction of being someone equally as strong.

This isn't really the case for Geto. Geto comes to see weak people as inferior yes in the sense he sees Non-Jujutsu Sorcerers as inferior, but Geto is capable of making connections to other Jujutsu Sorcerer. Geto has his family, he has Nanako and Mimiko and the rest of his followers who he all cares about equally. Geto met all of them and chose to relate to them, he even tells Gojo after killing his biological parents that he's choosing who his real family is now.

"It wouldn't be fair if I made an exception for my parents, now would it? Besides my family now consists of more than just them."

Geto demonstrates someone as powerful as Geto can make a choice to relate to other people. It's shown in the way that Geto treats Nanako and Mimiko, he is their father and he raised them as his daughters. Compared to how Megumi is just a student to Gojo. Gojo's only invested in making Megumi into a strong Jujutsu Sorcerer, because Gojo doesn't fathom connecting to someone weaker than him. He's only their to raise up a strong sorcerer, whereas Geto who's capable of connecting with people in other ways is raising up Nanako and Mimiko and they're connected as parent and child.

Geto and Gojo are similiar in a lot of ways, same level of strength comapred to the rest of humanity, same god complex (and yes it is a god coplex, there's a reason the two people Gojo relates to are Geto who has constant religious imagery associated with him and Sukuna who's literally satan) and yet Geto shows someone roughly Gojo's power level can make connections to others Gojo just chooses not to.

This is where I'm stealing from a friend's post a bit. @theanimepsychologist points out that Geto notices the beginnings of Gojo's identity complex soon after it started with Toji.

I always thought of the panel above as Geto being jealous of Gojo surpassing him in strength but, in retrospect, I think Geto’s disappointment had more to do with Gojo’s sense of self over-identifying with the title “the strongest” and how that made him harder to relate to, which is one of the main themes in this chapter. I’ll come back to this in a sec. But first… Quick depth psych segway. I think I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating again that an overwhelming sense of self is all ego. There’s nothing wrong with ego per se. The problem is that an over-identification with ego means inherent separateness because, as an organ of the psyche, the ego sense of self is what gives us a separate identity from the collective.

Geto notices that Gojo is drawing a line between himself and other people, and pulling away because of that because people in the second category of weak can't possibly understand the strong and he's reacting to it. Geto is also the only person to underline to Gojo himself that he's unsure about his own identity.

Gojo knows he's the strongest, but he doesn't know anything about himself besides that, or even what being the strongest entails in his relation to other people. He's never constructed an identity outside of it in part because he's never had to, nobody has ever challenged him for his title as the strongest, and he also fits jujutsu society's mould perfectly. He's perfect at what he does, why would he need to change? Why would a person who reached enlightenment at seventeen need to reflect upon himself or figure out who he is? You can't really become more enlightened.

The other reason he's never constructed an identity is he's never interacted with anyone on equal terms. Metaphorically Gojo exists in a vacuum of human interaction. How appropriate is it in a way that he was sealed in a box where time didn't move completely alone for who knows how long, because that's kind of just how Gojo sees himself in relation to the rest of the world.

As Psycho points out an unregulated ego results in an inherent separateness from the collective. People don't exist in a vacuum however. We wouldn't know who we are if we were entirely alone. We are defined just as much as ourselves, as we are by our interaction with others.

Ich and Du, translated as I and Thou is a book by philosopher Martin Buber. His two main porositions is that we may address existence in two ways:

The attitude of the "I" towards "it" towards an object that is separate in itself, which we either use or experience.

The attitude of "I" towards "Thou" in a relationship in which the other is not separated by discrete bounds.

I -> It is the world of sensations. If I am looking at a chair, I say "This is a chair. This chair is an eyesore." I am seeing the chair. I don't relate to the chair.

I -> Thou can be used to refer to a relationship between human beings. You don't experience the human being., you can only relate to them and what that relationship means to you. He goes on further to say that love requires a subject -> subject relationship. To love someone means you have to relate to them as if they are another being, you can't love an object.

He's a philosopher to put forward that it's human's connections with each other and their ability to relate to each other that brings meaning to life. Gojo in Buber's terms is only experiencing the world around him, not relating to it. How appropriate of someone with the six-eyes, an ability that gives him sight far better than anyone else to see himself as only an observer to the outside world, like a floating pair of eyes.

The choice that Gojo makes not to relate to other human beings on an equal level, not only isolates him, it affects his sense of self. People cannot exist within a background. Gojo's like a vampire who can't see his own reflection. ? It's all because of this caveat that Gojo himself has set up that no one can possibly relate to him unless they were equally as powerful as him that he can't see himself in others. He can't see himself in others, he can't find anyone to help him understand himself, and therefore his identity crisis goes unresolved.

Twitter user @ det_critics pointed this out that the question: "Take away his strength and what is he?" isn't one Gojo has an answer for, and one he's actively been running from.

As I said Gojo literally doesn't have a reflection, we see that in story when the prison realm opens its eye and it's just a void where Gojo's face is supposed to be. Gojo choosing not to think of himself as the strongest is also a choice not to think about who he'd be if he wasn't. A question he evades over and over again by telling himself that he can't be understood by people who are weak b/c he categorically exists on a different plane of reality.

When he does look for an answer it's telling just how not normal Gojo is in who he chooses to empathize with: which is Sukuna.

This is who Gojo as chosen to be the only other person besides Gojo he felt he could relate to. The same person who monologues about weak people like this.

The same person who monologues that weak people shouldn't even be alive, they should be culled. Sukuna sees weak people as insects. Gojo sees them as plants.

The first person that Gojo relates to as a subject rather than an object Geto is cut short, the next person he relates to as a subject is Sukuna of all people. He chooses to see himself in Sukuna, because Sukuna validates that incorrect idea Gojo has that someone as powerful as him could never possibly be understood by other people. After all, Sukuna the strongest sorcerer of all time isn't even really human anymore, he's a curse a calamity. For Gojo who doesn't see himself as relatable to other human beings this is validation of that mistaken notion.

It's also telling of how much Gojo's own identity issues have warped him that he finds a curse personally relatable, and even pitiable because it's lonely. Sukuna, who's main problem is that he's bored because a life of killing people is unfulfilling and it's turned him into an adrenline junkie. This is who Gojo's personally chosen to relate to because they both only see the world in the category of "the strong" and "the weak."

Gojo's viewpoint of other people is mistaken for several reasons, but one interesting one was pointed out for me by Psycho. He refers to his students as flowers, but they're lotus flowers. Lotus flowers mean many things, but they're seen as symbols of purity because they rise up from the mud. Gojo is only looking at the flowers, not the mud they rise from .

"No mud, no lotus. The mud is what makes us who we are, and no one can 100% understand what wading through the mud feels like. I think people see oh shiny lotus, the outcome of wading through the mud but they overlook the self because we live in an outcome oriented society.

Gojo is someone who doesn't see the mud and therefore doesn't relate to the personal struggles of others. Which sabotages a lot of his personal relationships. Which like, to bring Megumi into this, Megumi is proof that Gojo IS NOT NORMAL.

Megumi is the kind of special genius that Gojo is, he's born with the strongest technique one capable of killing Gojo, but he doesn't become a special class at seventeen like Gojo, nor is he interested in doing that because Megumi is an entirely different person with differnt personal struggles than Gojo. He has all the raw potenital that Gojo does, but they have wildly different upbringings. Gojo was primed for success by being the spoiled child of his clan, while Megumi is an abandoned child. It proves again Gojo's maxim of people who have that much power are inhuman and don't follow human psychology is wrong because Megumi has all the potential to be as strong as Gojo, but he's just a normal kid. Megumi is still wading through the mud and Gojo doesn't see that.

GOJO IS NORMAL

Jujutsu Kaisen seems to be following Buber's logic on how identity is defined by the interactions we have with other people, because there was a period in Gojo's life where he did create an identity outside of being a sorcerer and that's when he was Geto's friend.

In the afterlife we even see him regressing to that previous state of being. There was a period for three years in his life that Gojo was something besides being the strongest, and that was when he was Geto's friend too. If Jujutsu Kaisen is about how identity and meaning are both constructed from the interactions we have with other people (subject -> subject) interactions then it's telling that Gojo reverts to his seventeen year old self because that was the first and only time in his life he was capable of relating to another person, and acted like a fully developed person outside of the role of sorcerer he was born to play.

If identities are constructed though that means they're not inherent. Gojo is not inherently the strongest, just as he's not inherently different from other people. This is different from what Gojo's been told his entire life. He was born the strongest. It's inherent to his identity, a fundamental part of who he is. Therefore people who are strong are inherently different from those who are weak, it's something internally different about them which makes it impossible for Gojo to comprehend the motivations of weak people.

Rather than just strong and weak being constructed categories. Gojo's the strongest at Jujutsu but if you took him outside of Jujutsu and asked him to work any other job he'd no longer be the strongest. He's only the strongest as long as he remains in his fish bowl that is Jujutsu Society. However, Gojo believes differently, he believes being the strongest is what he is, it's something inside of him, and something that makes him fundamentally different from others. This is the line that Gojo has been told due to being born with the six-eyes and this is what Gojo has bought.

This is also what his ability the limitless symbolizes, no one in this world can touch him or reach him, he exists somewhere else. However, the limitless can be breached and Gojo has been shown before there are others capable of touching him.

Toji is the first and only living human being to challenge him, until Sukuna comes along. However, Toji does arguably more in story than just give Gojo a good fight. Toji full on traumatized him, soemthing which Gojo refuses to acknowledge. Toji is the beginning of the end of Geto's friendship, the death of Amanai Riko sends Geto on a spiral for an entire years, and drives a wedge between Geto and Gojo's friendship when Geto self isolates and Gojo doesn't know what's wrong with his friend.

Gojo also experiences what it's like to be defeated for the first time in his life, and his response is to perfect the limitless so he runs it constantly all the time. Remember, before that he was exhausting it doing it for three days in a row, and when Geto told him to take a break Gojo reassured him he wasn't worried because he knew Geto had his back. Gojo was someone who could let down the limitless before that, but afterwards Gojo always insists on fighting alone with his shields up all the time. All to deny that feeling of vulnerability that Toji inflicted on him for the first time in his life, something he remembers years later, you know like trauma.

There are times when Gojo is reminded that it's possible he's the same as anyone else, he can experience human weakness. Geto's fall is another time, one post says it's particularly challenging for Gojo to comprehend why Geto would defect because he saw Gojo and himself as above others and therefore immune to human weakness.

gojou 100% has a god complex and thats why getous downfall hit him harder than anyone else. he saw himself and getou as above everyone else and exempt from ‘regular’ peoples flaws, he never thought either of them could be led astray and when getou finally snaps hes bewildered that something like that could ever happen to either of them. hes not just heartbroken over his best friend becoming an enemy, hes thrown for a loop because getou, the one person he thinks of as just as above everyone else and incapable of failing as he is, could ever do something wrong, could ever be wrong. hes finally put into a position where he has to face the fact that hes just as capable of screwing up as anyone else and he can’t make sense of it. gojous hesitance in killing getou isn’t just a byproduct of their friendship, it’s also him realizing that it could have easily been him on the other side of the conflict, which breaks the illusion of him being better than everyone for a second. and like that’s still not enough for him to reject this idea, personally i think that his comment about him and getou being 'the strongest’ in volume 0 is indicative of the fact that despite everything he still hasn’t grown out of this delusion.

Gojo has trauma, because he's a human being with human psychology. He makes mistakes, he has terrible past regrets like his friendship with Geto gone wrong, but he doesn't acknowledge those things because as stated above Gojo thinks he's immune to having regular people flaws. Gojo seeing himself in another category from regular human beings also allows himself to deny an vulnerability, because the strongest isn't supposed to have weaknesses. Seeing yourself as too distant to ever be touched by others also means they can never hurt you, emotionally or otherwise, an extreme form of the hedgehog's dilemna which is explored an Neon Gengesis Evangelion, an existentialist piece Gege takes obvious inspiration from.

The fact that he avoids other human beings, not because he's fundamentally incapable of understanding them but because he's distancing himself from human feelings like loss, pain, suffering these weaknesses that are part of the human experience just proves he's the same as everyone else. If he wasn't capable of feeling those things he wouldn't avoid it, he wouldn't spend ten years mourning Suguru but not killing him directly until he was forced to on December 24th, he wouldn't be trapped by the box because seeing Geto alive made him have a three minute long trauma flashback.

Gojo is a normal human, with normal human emotions and human psychology, albeit twisted from the power he was born with and his unique viewpoint of the world but he doesn't believe that he is. He uses that as an excuse not to interact with others and because of this his identity suffers. Gojo is someone defined by how limited he is in the story despite having limited power.

Gojo fails as much in the story as he succeeds. As my friend @justapanda put it.

"But, it loos like being strong isn't enough..." Another point could also be made here that, regardless of being the strongest at this point, Gojo was incapable of stopping his closest friend from straying down a dark path, which is perhaps Gojo’s greatest failing in the series. This failure also comes back to bite him much later on as Kenjaku’s ace in the hole to finally checkmate Gojo involved surprising him with the now possessed body of Geto, which distracted Gojo long enough for him to be successfully sealed by the prison realm. Once again, the vast amount of power that Gojo had attained turned out to be completely useless in preventing his own sealing, which has now placed him in an inactive role for over half of Jujutsu Kaisen’s duration. Earlier in the story, Gojo once said: “Ironic, isn’t it? Given everything, but unable to do anything.” when referring to the function of his own domain. This was another intentional use of foreshadowing to describe the dilemma that Gojo was inevitably going to face himself. Satoru Gojo is no limitless man, for no one man is without his limits." Another point could also be made here that, regardless of being the strongest at this point, Gojo was incapable of stopping his closest friend from straying down a dark path, which is perhaps Gojo’s greatest failing in the series. This failure also comes back to bite him much later on as Kenjaku’s ace in the hole to finally checkmate Gojo involved surprising him with the now possessed body of Geto, which distracted Gojo long enough for him to be successfully sealed by the prison realm. Once again, the vast amount of power that Gojo had attained turned out to be completely useless in preventing his own sealing, which has now placed him in an inactive role for over half of Jujutsu Kaisen’s duration. Earlier in the story, Gojo once said: “Ironic, isn’t it? Given everything, but unable to do anything.” when referring to the function of his own domain. This was another intentional use of foreshadowing to describe the dilemma that Gojo was inevitably going to face himself. Satoru Gojo is no limitless man, for no one man is without his limits.

Gojo has moments where he brushes up against the idea that he's not capable of doing everything, that he has faults and fails like every other human being. However, that feeling never really lasts for long. He always tends to double down on his belief that he's the strongest rather than facing his faults because that's where he's comfortable. Gojo can't see himself reflected in other people and therefore is not capable of reflecting and critically evaluating his faults. Not only that but avoiding looking too critically at those losses, he also stops himself from feeling the pain of those losses and denies that vulnerability.

Gojo exists on another plane from other human beings, and therefore why would he experience human sadness and pain? All he feels is a vague sense of loneliness and unfulfillment because he's been so alienated from his own emotions and in Gojo's mind that's better than struggling with weakness. Who would deliberately choose to be just like everyone else when you can be special? Why get close to others when the hedgehog's spines are just going to stab you? However, people form connections because of their weaknesses. Humans cooperate with each other because they are a social species. All of society exists because people divide labor and help each other out. Even Gojo can't say there's no point in his life where he was weak, because he was cared for as a child and raised in a family. He didn't come out of the womb a fully formed individual. The darwinian survival of the fittest, and the black and white strong vs. weak way that Gojo sees the world just doesn't exist, especially in modern society. There's nothing wrong with individualism, but the extreme end of individualism is wrong because no one exists in this world alone you share it with everyone else.

Gojo doesn't even see that though, because he's not living in the same world as everyone else. In his mind the limitless makes it so he basically exists on another plane of reality, but again the limitless can be breached.

Detective critics basically said that Gojo's delusion was always a false one, he always existed in the same world as everyone else, he simply deluded himself into believing otherwise. There are reasons for this, his upbringing, trauma and not wanting to face the pain of that trauma, but it's still a choice he made. Gojo didn't want to live for other people, he didn't want to relate for them, so he lived for himself pursuing his own strength. Ironically, it reflects Toji's own decision to take pride in neither himself or others and live only for the sake of showing that the Jujutsu World that rejected him was wrong.

Toji chose to live a life where he only lived to fight and prove he was stronger than the sorcerers who rejected him. He chose it over his own son Megumi, abandoning him in order to continue his lifestyle as a mercenary. He even chose it over continuing to live because he stayed and fought against Gojo to prove he was stronger than the pinnacle of Jujutsu. Toji lives for strength, and he is someone even Gojo respected the strength of, but what else does he have?

Toji's identity is unstable, he doesn't really live for any purpose, he kills people then blows the money gambling, he jumps from women to women to mooch off of them, he's also mentally unstable as well he shoots a little girl in the back of the head and feels nothing. The instability comes from his isolation, Toji is rejected by everyone the same way that Gojo is lauded by everyone. But Toji goes on step further in that he fails to construct any identity outside of being rejected and his entire life is spent rejecting the people who rejected him. Why does Toji want to be strong, he doesn't know. Purpose is something you have to construct for yourself, because there's no inherent meaning to life. Identity is something that's constructed by both yourself and your interactions with others because people aren't born inherently one thing or the other.

Gojo and Toji just refuse to do this, and only focus on themselves and the goal of being stronger. In Gojo's case I'd argue he doesn't fight for other people because he doesn't feel that connection with other people or rather he doesn't let himself. Hedgehog's dilemna to the extreme. Gojo only fighting for himself isn't Nanami calling him a selfish person who doesn't care about others, it's sad because Gojo never found any other reason to fight or meaning to his life but by getting stronger for its own sake.

Gojo only fights for the sake of satisfying himself, but here's the clincher, he's unsatisfied. Not only did he fail in his goal of giving Sukuna the fight of his life, because he knew Sukuna was holding back on him, but also admits to Geto that what would have really been satisfying is if Geto was there with him to pat him on the back.

He's failed on both fronts, he's failed at being the strongest and he's failed at making a connection to the people in his life. Gojo and Toji die in pretty much the same way, they die standing up in the middle of battle, but their last thoughts aren't of disappointment that they lost but their loved ones.

They spent their entire lives believing they were stronger and therefore different than others, and fighting to satisfy their ego and what does it amount to? Toji lived a life of hedonism and then died abandoning the one person he genuinely loved. Gojo has failed his stated goal of revolutionizing Jujutsu Society and dies before he can see whether or not his dream of a reset Jujutsu World will even come to fruition.

They belived they were someone stronger and therefore inherently better, and are put in their place when someone stronger comes along. They die just like all the other mortals. They believed they were alone so they died alone. It's sad and it goes to show how destructive being "the strongest" was to Gojo's identity in the end. Gojo thinks he's Sukuna but Gojo doesn't want to be Sukuna, because Sukuna's alone, and unlike Gojo you could make the point that Sukuna's not a human being who has human emotions because he's a curse. If Gojo was truly someone who could understand Sukuna he would have been truly alone the same way Sukuna is, and that's not what he wanted.

It's too bad Gojo never thought seriously about what he wanted, and therefore learned his lesson too late. He was always looking for someone he could relate to, except for in the people who were right in front of him.

#gojo satoru #jjk meta #satosugu #geto suguru #ryomen sukuna #jjk 236 #jjk 236 spoilers #jujutsu kaisen 236 #jujutsu kaisen 236 spoilers #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen meta

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hells-wasabii · 3 months

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Hi could you pretty please do velvette x reader who is Carmilla youngest daughter and how her family reacts (plus zestial pls I ship him and Carmilla so I feel like he's a step dad)❤️

A/N: I blacked out and wrote this.... but yeeees LISTEN!! I love Velvette so much, its not even funny and i had a lot of fun with this prompt! I didn't realize how much i wrote for it until it was too late, and by that point, i really couldn't stop. but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! ps i honestly ship them too

Part 1 | Part 2

Character: Velvette

Type: Headcanons + Drabble (Velvette x reader who's Carmilla's youngest daughter, General with a bit of Angst and Fluff sprinkled in)

For Velvette, she actually entered into the relationship not really knowing who your parents were. You never brought it up and she never really asked. It didn't really matter to her, since, ya know, you're the one she's dating, not your mum and dad, or step-dad from what you've mentioned.

Honestly, she should've seen the similarities. They were there for sure, but let's face it, there are so many demons in hell that it was probably just a coincidence, right?

Carmilla also knew you were seeing someone as well, though she really figured that you would bring this special demon around when you were ready.

Oh, they were both wrong. So very wrong.

They found out simultaneously, of course, as cliche as it was. You were on an evening out with Velvette with no clear destination in mind, just simply enjoying the evening and each other's company when the next thing you knew you were face to face with your mother.

It... didn't go too well.

What had once been a peaceful evening nearly dissolved into a turf war all in an instant. If you hadn't been able to separate the two with a promise to talk to both separately later there was no doubt that everything in a three-block radius would be collateral.

Zestial and your sisters would find out soon thereafter, Carmilla of course telling them when they see her come home looking quite distraught.

As stated before, to Velvette, it really didn't matter. though it did sweeten the deal. It would give her plenty more opportunities for her to provoke the arms dealer, something that she already took a great deal of pleasure in.

Zestial would be skeptical of the relationship at the start but eventually comes to accept it fully. His patience won out this time. He's seen more than enough relationships like this go up in flames and he'd never want that for you. He considered you a daughter after all.

As for your sisters, both of them were simply happy that you were happy. They were more worried about how y'alls mom would react. And you can't tell me that they didn't already know, either.

Carmilla on the other hand... To her, family is everything. I mean, she killed an angel for you and your sisters. She'd do anything for her kids, and that includes keeping someone like that upstart from breaking your heart. She wholeheartedly believed that Velvette was only dating you to get one over on her. It really comes as no surprise when she goes all the way to Vee Tower to confront the youngest overlord herself.

"You need to stay away from my daughter."

The fashionista bit out a curse as a needle pricked her finger. Velvette doesn't usually startle easily, but shit, between her being completely focused on finishing and the fact that her workshop had previously been silent save for any sounds that she had been making herself, she thought that even the most stone-cold bitch would've jumped.

What good was the security for if those nitwits couldn't keep unauthorized demons out of her workshop? The influencer swore that if any blood got on the material for this dress she'd personally kill the guards and whoever-

Oh.

Of all the people she expected to see, Carmilla Carmine, the uptight weapons dealer, and apparent mum of her girlfriend, was not one of them. Or actually, scratch that. She was completely expecting this to happen sooner or later.

"Well, it sucks to suck then, wrinkles, I'm not going nowhere." The fashionista bit back, a smirk settling on her lips that quickly fell when the older woman tried to push her point.

"I know what you're trying to do and it-"

"Obviously you don't." All mischief gone from her tone, Velvette set her work to the side, careful not to crumple the fabric. She rose to her feet and began to cross the room to Carmilla, who in turn stood taller, determined not to let this miscreant make a mockery of her, her family, and most importantly her youngest daughter. "I hate to break it to you, but the only way I'll break it off is if SHE wants to."

Velvette paused, her eyes boring into Carmilla's with a conviction and passion that the arms dealer hadn't felt from the influencer before. When the younger woman spoke again, her voice was softer than before, laced with a sincerity that would leave the mother speechless.

"I love her."

Its this singular interaction that leads to a truce between the two (technically five if you include Zestial and the Vee's) Overlords. They would come to some sort of mutual understanding that if both of them were to be in your life, they'd have to play nice. At least in front of you. At Overlord meetings, well, that's a whole different story.

#i blacked out and wrote this #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #velvet x reader hazbin #velvette x reader #drabble #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #fluff #angst

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i-cant-sing · 9 months

Text

Okay but like you guys know how Toji killed Riko Amanai because she was the star plasma vessel and he hates the Jujutsu world?

Imagine that after killing Riko and just narrowly escaping Gojo and Getou, promising to kill every Star plasma vessel just to spite them, he has a daughter- you, and its revealed that you're the next star plasma vessel, a perfect match for Tengen to merge with and prevent forced evolution, and now Gojo and Getou are sent put to capture you and bring you to Tengen.

And they go, not because they want to bring you to Tengen, but because they want to protect you from Toji, only to find out that you're his daughter that has him wrapped around her tiny finger and oh oh THE HYPOCRISY???? So as long as you're his daughter, TOJI WONT KILL THE STAR PLASMA VESSEL?????

Ans Toji's all like- "ohh you guys don't need to worry about Y/n, I'll take care if her and protect her from anyone and everyone. Yall better leave rn unless you want to have a horrible death." Meanwhile, toddler reader is just in her own little world as she's spinning around in circles because it's fun when the world is spinning and makes her stumble.

Anyways, Gojo and Getou don't believe him, and even if they did, they won't just let him go that easily because fuck that guy, he killed a teen and now has the gall to stand there like he didn't kill an innocent kid.

And Gojo is all like "fuck that, we gonna kill your kid too bitch." He's not, but he's gonna make sure Toji feels scared and doomed before dying.

Immediately, Toji has whipped out all of his weapons, pushing you behind him, and just then, out of thin air, the entire Zenin clan appears to Toji's aid because yes, they hate Toji too, but they adore you and they eint letting white haired bitcha and his emo Buddha bf take you.

As the battle begins, there's someone from the clan who's keeping you safe, moving you away from the battle ground so that you don't end up getting hit, and obviously, they put some headphones and sensory videos on their phone to keep you distracted from the fight. Meanwhile, there is absolute chaos on the field, Getou and Gojo being merciless as they kill one clan member after another.

Eventually, one of the attacks ends up blowing away your "bodyguard" and you're just there alone, unattended and unsupervised, so naturally, you look to the ground and see Gojo wielding Hollow Purple, and you don't know what that is except for a purple orb and since your dear uncle Naoya had been forcing you to take tutoring from the best teachers in tge world, you had learned color theory and immeadiately, without knowing the consequences of your actions, you throw out a yellow orb directly at the purple orb because you were taught in art class that "yellow cancels out purple", but now everyone is looking at you like "did a kid just- neutralise the most powerful Jujutsu technique???? Without so much as breaking a sweat?" And you're just giggling nd jumping up and down, calling out to Naoya "see uncle Naoya??? Those classes were not a waste of money!"

And that's when everyone noticed-

You're alone.

Naobito is immediately yelling at Toji to "collect your chaotic child before she reveals more of her powers and becomes everyone's target!" And Gojo is like "??? Um wtf?? Did a child just beat me???", while getou is springing into action to get his hands on you before Toji can.

Toji beats him to it, grabbing you with one hand while the other pulled out his sword. Getou summoned his own curses to help him attack Toji and simultaneously save you. As the two began fighting, Gojo sent another attack to Toji, who in an attempt to save you, shielded you with his body while taking the impact of hit.

As Toji was down, you were taken away from him by Getou, and while you didn't understand just what happened to your dad, you were becoming distressed as he didn't respond to you. And with your distress came a change in your cursed energy, which Getou recognised and he knew sooner or later, you will have an outburst of energy and hurt everyone in the process, because you're just a kid who doesn't how powerful she is.

So, yanking on Gojo's shoulders and telling him to leave the other members of the clan because they need to leave right now, the three of you teleported out of there.

Anyways, Gojo and Getou decide to take you in because there's no way they're giving you to Tengen, and taking you back to the Zenin clan was also out of the question, AND not to mention, they want to discover more about your cursed energy and help you control it. I mean, Getou wants to help you learn your powers and also give you a normal childhood, Gojo is slighted that he got beat by a child who didn't know what she was doing and he's low key concerned if you're gonna be a threat in the future. So... why not just take you in, and act like your parents because you're a gullible child who'll believe anything, and really has the attention span of a goldfish.

And at first, things were great because Gojo was like a chaotic parent who adored bullying you, while Getou was the calm and collected parent who helped you calm down as you swore you were gonna Hollow Purple Gojo if he kicks the back of your knees one more time. But everything changed when Getou parted ways with Gojo because he wanted to "kill humanity because they're all selfish and cruel🥰" and Gojo was like "babe, no, it's my job to be the sadistic one as a joke and you're the one who's supposed to laugh and say no, humans need us to protect them🥺" but Getou is like no, fuck that. And then Getou is like, well you can give Y/n to me because I love children and I love taking care of her, and Gojo is like "no." While holding a very struggling child that wants to scratch his face off, and Gojo only said no initially just so that there's something for Getou to come back. He knows how attached and fond Getou has grown over you. But Getou just sighs and goes "aight. Shared custody it is then. See you in 8 months, Y/n! Give your papa a kiss🥰" and you do.

And yeah, everyday since Getou departure, you can see the changes in Gojo's behaviour. It's not bad exactly, he's depressed for sure, and he's doubting his principles every step of the way, BUT he's kinder to you and to humans in general now. Meanwhile, whenever you do meet papa Getou, with Gojo's supervision cause my man doesn't trust Getou to not take you away and turn u into a killing machine, you can see the changes in Getou's personality too. He may still have that same kind, noble, shaman facade going on, but you see the way he looks down on the weak and on the non sorcerers. You see how he uses people as means to achieve his ultimate goal. Sure, you can also see that he still adores you, but you... dont know if you still love him with his view of the world.

Then one day, it happens. Gojo has finally killed Getou, not because of any ill intent, but because he simply threatened his students and the innocent people of Japan. And even though you knew this day wold eventually come, you still didn't forgive Gojo for a long time. You cried and fought against him, until Gojo had to eventually knock you out just so that your breakdown wouldn't unleash cursed energy and endanger everyone.

After Getou's death, Gojo's behaviour towards you and in general did a whole 180. He became the kinder, softer, gentle parent towards you. The empathetic teacher who pushed you but also consoled you when you failed, instead of the previous Gojo who would ridicule you for failing to master a technique.

Getou's death had definitely changed Gojo in other ways too. He had become more protective of you, always keeping you around because he couldn't bare the thought of losing someone else (Riko, Getou, etc). He keeps a close on you, watchubvvyour development and progress like a hawk because he knows you will soon be wanting to help him on missions, or worse, go solo. He doesn't want that, he can't have that. So the more you push Gojo to let you be independent, the more he tells you to sit down and practice more because you're just not ready yet.

Then one day, you reach your braking point and just- leave when Gojo is busy with his students. And this turned out to be a big mistake because the moment you had left Jujutsu High, it seemed like you were surrounded by thousands of enemies. Everyone wants to either kill you or capture you, and you don't even know why (because Gojo never revealed to you about your family or you being the star plasma vessel). Fortunately, you had trained enough to fight these assassins, and by the time you were done, you were tired and wanted to return back to Jujutsu High, but before you could, someone knocked you out.

When you woke up, you were lying in bed in a traditional Japanese home. Soon, a man with blonde hair came in, introducing himself as your uncle Naoya. He revealed who you were, how he was your family, how he saved you from Gojo, the man who stole you and killed his family members.

Of course, you call bs because why wouldn't you?? Naoya gives major prick vibes without trying so yeah, you didn't trust him at all. Then he pulled out pictures of you, of Toji and everyone else, and you vaguely remembered them, but not enough to believe him because Naoya could just be manipulating you to be compliant for human trafficking.

And then he takes you to another room, on the way you see a lot of other people who are looking at you fondly and have tears in their eyes, they seem like they want to say something or touch you, but Naoya glares at them to move away. Eventually, you reach a door and on opening it, you see a man sitting on a wheelchair, looking away from you.

"Who's that?" You asked as Naoya gently pushed you in. He walked towards the man, turning his wheelchair around and your breath hitched-

"Y/n, meet Toji, your-"

"Dad?" You whispered, recognising him as memories flashed through your mind. How- how could you have forgotten him all these years?

Tears began flowing down your face as you saw his miserable state- his face emotionless, the man was missing an arm, and he looked pale and weak.

"Gojo did this to him." Naoya began. "While your father was fighting, Gojo tried to purple Hollow you. But Toji took the hit instead, protecting you. He almost died that day, but with a little cursed energy, we were able to save him." He sighed, patting Toji's shoulder. "Unfortunately, he is paralysed. The cursed technique we tried to save him, has sent him into a vegetative state. He can't move, can't speak, doesn't even react."

More tears fell as you began questioning if Gojo really did this. Then again, if he was so innocent, why did he never tell you who your father really was.

"Why- why did you bring me here?" You asked.

Naoya scoffed. "Why wouldn't I? I had to save you from that monster. Look at what he did to your father! How could have I just leave you with him? You belong here, with your family, with your clan!"

"I cant- I can't stay here." You said, tearfully.

"Why not?"

"Because Gojo will find me. And when he does, he will hurt you all. I- I can't have that-" but Naoya pulled you into a hug as you began sobbing into his chest, heart heavy with guilt at the sight of your father.

"Shh, its okay. This is not your fault. You didn't do this, Gojo did. Which is precisely why you must stay here, with me and with your father. Besides, you don't need to worry about Gojo. I'm not a weak sorcerer, yknow? And not alone either. Plus, I remember you neutralising Gojo's attack pretty easily as a child. I'm sure you're better at it now. Obviously, not better than your uncle, I mean who are we kidding? No ones better than me-"

Yeah, you're remembering Naoya alright now.

Meanwhile, Gojo is losing his mind and is on a murder spree through Japan to find you. He doesn't even know who fucking took you, and Naoya may not be as strong as Gojo, he is pretty good at hiding, like a rat.

Besides, Gojo isn't the only who's looking for you.

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

Breakfast fluff

G. Satoru — さとる

NOTE : pls ignore errors i have neither slept nor proofread this 👍 i'm just craving breakfast so bad rn which is funny considering i hate cooking breakfast lol

SUMMARY — waking up to Gojo making breakfast and fussing over the kids on a typical Sunday

CONTENT — domestic fluff, just a wholesome morning with hubby Gojo

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

It's a very early morning. The sunlight through the sheer curtains is soft. You take your time getting out of bed, soaking up the enjoyable softness of the blankets and pillows. Though you're quick to miss the warmth that you usually wake up to. Blinking awake and going into the bathroom, Satoru hears the soft thumping of your footsteps down the hallway and smiles to himself.

Satoru's not usually an early riser, in fact he usually stays in bed with you and locks an arm around your waist when you try to leave. But it's a Sunday morning, and Sunday mornings were special. Because it became a tradition to go down to the bustling market, clutching the week's savings in his hand, and buy thick bacon and eggs. The freshest kind.

You and Satoru were living in a bare bones apartment with sparse money, as two young "parents" with three tots under your wings. Somehow, you two made it work, even though there were struggles you smiled through them and never strayed from each other's sides. He'd often work the night shift, and come home at ungodly hours so tired that he melted into your body like a sick child, aching for your affectionate touch.

While you lazily carry out your morning routine in the other room, the kids crowd around Satoru as he stands in the kitchen — trying desperately to balance the chaos of entertaining Yuji, Nobara and Megumi while simultaneously cooking up breakfast.

And he cooks breakfast with such meticulousness. He considers it an art form. There's a remarkable swiftness in the way that he wields a kitchen knife to cut the bacon block into strips, and a talent in the way he cracks open eggs with one hand.

" Nobara, Yuji, what are you yelling about ? "

A little voice whined, " Nobara bit me ! "

" Nobara, don't bite Yuji. " Satoru lectured softly, eyes focused on the food cooking in the pan.

" I only did it because he tried to take your sweeties out of the pantry, dad ! " she reasoned.

" Don't eat my sweeties Yuji, you can have some later today — smell this ? Daddy's cooking up yummy breakfast so don't spoil your appetite, okay. You're gonna love it. "

The bacon and eggs crackle and pop in the oiled pan, sometimes so loudly that it makes Megumi jump in fright.

" Gumi, don't stand too close to the skillet. " Satoru warns, placing a hand on his head of messy bed hair and ruffling it, causing it to look even more unruly.

A steamy breakfast aroma wafts down the hallway and satisfyingly fills your lungs. You can hear the four of them chattering and Satoru's interspersed mini-lectures.

You look at them from the doorframe, Yuji and Nobara run out the other way into the interleading sitting room.

" Who's that peering 'round the corner ? " Satoru playfully teases, his voice bringing you warmth.

" Maaa. " Megumi groans and trots over to you, giving you as big of a hug as his little body could manage.

You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing up the mess that Satoru's previous ruffling caused — as usual.

And he flashes a look behind him at you, winking like a cheeky flirt. His smile is so big because of how purely happy the sight of you makes him; especially with that bleary-eyed morning face. You look so cozy, it makes his heart lurch to see you wearing his oversized t-shirt.

" Hey ! You didn't give me a morning hug ! " Satoru pouts and complains to his son.

Megumi groans. With a small encouragement from you, he quickly dives in for a rushed and almost shy hug. His arms wrap around Satoru's legs. And like the menace your husband is, he ruffles Megumi's hair to ruin again — making the boy groan annoyedly and break the hug.

" Ugh, daaad stop. Mom just fixed my hair. " Megumi grimaced, promptly running away when Satoru smiled down at him evilly — because that smile was the one he made before going in for tickles. And tickles from Satoru? They were devastating, truly.

So little footsteps thump out of the kitchen and the two loud voices that have been sounding from the sitting room become three loud voices. You notice how Megumi's accent takes after Satoru's rather than yours, and it warms your heart.

You approach the stressed, apron-clad chef and immediately he turns around to engulf you in an energetic kiss and embrace.

" You're burning the bacon, dad. " you giggle, face squishing into his torso.

" NOOO — shitshitshit. " he mutters under his breath, lips tingling from that tasty kiss he just snatched off your lips.

" Language, 'Toru. " you murmur at him, arms wrapping around his slim waist. You give him butterflies and then he loses all composure, causing a burnt disaster in the pan. The eggs are crusted brown, the bacon is glitterring as it sizzles a deep color.

Automatically, you go around the kitchen collecting and preparing plates and cutlery for the meal. The clang and clash of plastic reminds you that today is a big deal; you and Satoru were going to go out and use the rest of your weekly savings on new kitchenware.

Stopping for a moment to amire the attractive view of your husband's physique from behind, while he rather chaotically shovels the cooked contents of the pan out onto the serving plate that you slide next to him.

" Ah the bacon is saved. . . " he breathes in relief.

The sizzling food finds its home on plates. Satoru steals a quick kiss.

And then another. And another and another until the two of you zone out for a moment and feel like you're just two teenagers again, stealing lovey dovey kisses on your way to morning classes, of course his lips always caused you to be you late to everything back then.

But before you and Satoru can completely intertwine like lovers, there's the common interrruption of Yuji's wailing coming from the sitting room. You and your husband exchange those parental sighs and smiles, before you head into the other room to fix the little commotion. Poor Yuji complains to you through teary eyes that Nobara bit him "for being annoying" and Megumi is just wandering back into the kitchen to help his dad serve up breakfast without him even needing to be asked. He was just a sweet boy like that.

And it's a good meal. One that hits all the spots. You wish you could have more, even though Satoru did put from his plate onto yours throughout the meal. It's a caring habit of his that you never realize until after you've devoured everything. You pay him thanks with a tasty kiss, and he smiles into it like he always does.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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hyewka · 10 months

Note

i seriously need some sub soob🫢

like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee

warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot

When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.

Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?

“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.

When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.

“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.

You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.

“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”

You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.

When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”

He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”

You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”

Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.

He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.

Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.

“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.

You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.

Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.

You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.

He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.

“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.

To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.

You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.

“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”

“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.

“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.

Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”

It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.

“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.

Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.

You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.

And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.

“My eyes are up here idiot.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.

You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?

You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.

You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”

He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.

Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.

But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”

Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.

Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.

He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.

Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.

You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?

He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.

“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”

“Soobin where the fuck are you?”

You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.

“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”

He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.

“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.

His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”

You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.

The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.

His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.

No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.

His bulge.

It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.

And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.

If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.

“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”

He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.

“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.

“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.

“You’re evil.”

To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.

You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.

You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.

“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.

“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.

You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.

And maybe he already was breaking.

He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.

“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.

You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.

When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.

Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.

“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.

You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.

You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.

“Zero.”

You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”

Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.

So, he gets a kill.

You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.

“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”

A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.

His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”

You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”

The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.

He’s way too easy to break.

“Too much? Should I stop?”

He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.

“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”

You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.

“Put what in my mouth?”

He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”

You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.

You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.

You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.

It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”

Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.

But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.

You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.

Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.

“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.

He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.

“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”

The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.

You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.

You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.

Soobin had a lot stored.

Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you fuck other people?”

You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”

Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.

“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.

“No. Only you.”

You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”

“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”

You raise your brows. “Do I what?”

“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”

You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”

“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.

Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.

note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!

#txt smut #soobin smut #sub!soobin #sub!idol #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours

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urrockstar-xe · 3 months

Text

3 teen boys vs 1 pretty girl - j.m x fem!reader

posted feb 10th, 2024 10:24 pm

heres another belated v day post!! :D im working my way up guys look at me go, im running out of valentine themed songs though if you have recs and see this before the 14th pls send them to me!!

summary: John B and Pope have to help out JJ when he's under too much stress over a pretty girl, not proofread, use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.0k

JJ wasn’t one for romantics, never was, never will be. He’s never witnessed real romance outside of TV shows and movies, although now that he has, with his best friend falling in love, JJ still just didn’t quite get it.

Until he met You, of course, because every sweet, enchanting, and cheesy love story has to start with the player meeting the one.

The one that broke down every little wall with a soft smile and pretty eyes. The one who saves everything while simultaneously ruining it all.

At least in JJ’s eyes.

“Dude, just admit you like her” Pope’s words went in one ear and out the other as JJ groaned into the old pillow, dramatically falling onto John B’s couch. “I think he did, just not in a comprehensible way” John B chuckled, shoving JJ’s feet off of his lap.

JJ groaned once more before shifting positions and sitting up on the opposite end of JB. “I don’t know what it is, man. She comes in, introduces herself with a pretty little voice, batting her pretty little eyelashes, smiling a pretty little smile on her pretty little face.” JJ’s voice was laced with irritation, his friends just laughed in response.

“I think JJ thinks Y/n is pretty, Pope.” “No way, really?” Another round of laughter between the two boys made JJ scoff before chuckling a bit as well, he rubbed at his eyes.

JJ’s laughter ended with a sigh, “She’s makin’ me crazy.” John B smiled at his friend, nudging his shoulder. “They have that effect huh?” JB remarked, sharing a knowing look with Pope before Pope pulled JJ up off the couch.

“What am I gonna do? I mean, I gotta really wow this girl, man I mean, she’s perfect” JJ gushed as he stared back at his friend who merely smiled back and shook his head. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, why don’t you go work that out with John B and I’ll continue studying.” Pope proposed the idea as JB stood up, patting JJ on the back before nearly dragging him out of the chateau by the back of his hoodie.

“C’mon, we’re gonna make sure you get your girl by tomorrow night”

JJ and John B loaded up into the Twinkie, heading straight for the closest convenience store. JB distracted his lovelorn friend with loud music that the two teenage boys happily and obnoxiously sang along to. Once they finally pulled up to the store and went inside, John B led JJ to the aisle filled with red and pink colored cardboard, and heart-shaped candies.

“Dude, I don’t even know what kind of candy she likes,” JJ sighed, both boys scanning the wall of options. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.” John B mumbled.

“It’s all just one big guessing game-” John B got cut off by the store clerk noticing them.

“Maybank, I better not catch you stealin’ nothin'.” His gruffy booming voice caught their attention, heads turning towards the sound in sync. “Course not, Mr. Wade!” JJ waved, a small smile on his lips as the clerk shook his head and went back to his initial goal, leaving them alone once more.

JJ watched as John B grabbed one of the blue baskets and started throwing random candy boxes into it. “What are you doing?” JJ furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s gotta like at least one of these, let’s just buy it all” John B shrugged, handing the basket to JJ who turned his attention towards the box full of small stuffed animals.

JJ picked up a small cat before looking at the little dog holding a love heart. “Do you think she’s more of a dog person or a cat person?” “Which one do you want her to be?”

JJ abandoned the cat and threw the dog in the basket, just as John B grabbed a pink bag covered in white hearts and threw it on top of their Valentine's treasures.

“This should be enough right?” John B asked, earning a slightly concerned look from JJ.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the professional here? I’m just the student!” JJ followed him to the counter and helped throw everything in front of Mr. Wade.

“JJ, I don’t think people see either of us and think of the word professional.” and of course, he couldn’t argue with that.

JJ was left to his own devices the rest of the night, John B had a date with Sarah.

He did his best at setting up the bag of goodies, before deciding it was good enough because nothing would be as perfect as you no matter how much he tried.

Finally, Wednesday had come and right around the time you made it outside of your school building you were met with the sight of the Twinkie, eyes watching it as you laughed at something one of your friends said. You said your goodbyes before making your way to the old van just as JJ Maybank came out of the driver’s side and leaned on the passenger’s door.

“Thought you dropped out, JJ.” You smiled at the blond, who happily mirrored you as he approached him. “You know, gotta come back every once in a while, see how the place is holdin’ up without me.” He shrugged, earning a chuckle from you.

JJ cleared his throat, standing up straight. “I wanted to surprise you. Ask you to be my Valentine.” Your smile got softer, that sweet look on your face almost making JJ chicken out but now he was too deep in.

“So ask me,” you said softly, after a moment of waiting for him to continue. JJ laughed, shaking his head. “Right, yeah, sorry. Will you be my Valentine, pretty lady?” His voice was quieter than you were used to hearing, you couldn’t help but cover your face as you felt heat spread across your cheeks. JJ chuckled at your reaction before leaning forward just enough to remove your hands from your face.

“Whadya say?” You smiled at him as he held onto your hands, whispering now that you were so close. “I’ll be your Valentine any day of the week, J.” He smiled back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before letting go of your hands and opening the passenger door, revealing the very same bag that was currently overflowing.

“Awh, babe.” You smiled at the sight, picking up the little dog plush.

“Hope you’re a dog person,” He said, grabbing the bag’s handles so you could get in the van.

“And that you have a severe sweet tooth.”

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #Spotify

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builtbybrokenbells · 3 months

Text

Reaching New Heights

While under the impression that she has the house to herself, y/n enjoys some much needed alone time. Jake, planning on coming home to surprise her, walks himself straight into a whole new world.

Based off this request 🤍

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, virgin reader/losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), masturbating (f!receiving), simultaneous orgasm, multiple orgasm, very soft dom type beat, slight cockwarming if you squint, dry humping, touch of spit play, touch of voyeurism, praise, dirty talk, name calling, begging, very very sweet Jake ☹️, anxiety, fluff, swearing, talks of bad dating experiences, sorry if I miss any!

thank to the lovely anon who requested this! sorry for all of my other requests waiting, I promise I’m getting there! I had an idea like this already sitting in the drafts, so when I saw this request I had to write it! I hope this is what you were looking for, and I do apologize for this basically just being pwp. As always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! 🤍 (extremely lightly edited)

Intimacy, especially in the sexual context, had always been a touchy subject for you. It wasn’t because of any moral dilemmas, nor because of bad past experiences. You weren’t saving yourself for marriage, and you did not value your virginity as a ‘virtue’. You simply chose not to engage because you had never met anyone who you believed was right for you. You had plenty of dates and failed talking stages with men who only ever seemed interested in getting in your pants, but you had never met someone who seemed interested in you beyond anything sexual. You wanted to explore, to test your own limits and discover yourself with another person, but you could not bring yourself to undress for someone who only wanted (and planned) to leave after the fact.

You were comfortable with your own routine, and after a while it seemed more likely that you would remain a virgin until your hair turned gray and you were sat in a nursing home. At first, it bothered you, but then it became the most normal part of your life. You would rather keep to yourself than give away a part of you to someone who would not appreciate it. Most people weren’t interested in dating once you specified that you would not put out on the first date, and to you, that was okay; they weren’t worth your time or effort. Life was simple without anyone else empeding on your routine, anyway.

Then, one fateful day at a lovely, locally owned music store, you found yourself in front of someone who changed your world entirely, flipping it on its axis and throwing your whole life off course. You had (literally) run into him when you were least expecting it; he had stepped in front of you as you were bustling to the counter to pay for your handful of vinyl records. He apologized profusely, landing a gentle hand on your arm to make sure you were steady on your feet and he hadn’t hurt you. You were too enthralled in the beauty of his face to comprehend the words he was speaking, anyway. His long brown hair hung down to frame his face, and his warm, chocolate coloured eyes seemed to be staring straight into your soul. His smile was inviting, and his charm was unexplainable. He’d made you fall for him without even trying.

Once you managed to overcome your nervous staring, you forced a smile and assured him you were alright. He introduced himself, hesitant to believe you were telling the truth, and insisted on buying your records for you as an apology. After a drawn out back-and-forth argument, he eventually managed to convince you that it was the only apology he would allow for himself. Before you ventured to the counter, you took interest in the specific guitar he was fawning over on the wall. After explaining the details to you, you were left feeling disappointed at the prospect of having to part with him once you stepped out the door.

He ended up buying your records, and the guitar hanging on the wall, but he didn’t seem to want to let you leave without anything more, either.

So, instead of going your separate ways, you ended up at a diner just down the street, sharing lunch and getting to know each other as best as you could in the limited time you had. Laughs were plentiful and fulfillment was felt from all sides. Jake Kiszka was the man you had been waiting for, someone who saw you as a person, not just something to fuck. He was interested in every small detail, and he wanted to know everything he could about you. He was a bit shy, and very nervous, but he was sweet, kind, and he took your breath away. When you left the restaurant, you had a new found excitement for life, and a phone number in your contact list that would now be called on the daily.

At first, the relationship was built slowly and carefully. The two of you started as friends, texting each other regularly and trying your best to discover all of the intimate details about each other. Then, when you guys built up enough courage, you started going on small dates; movie nights, dinner dates, Sunday afternoon drives… you wanted to do anything and everything with him. He quickly became your closest friend and your most trusted confidant. You spent so much time together that it was almost strange not being in the same place. Of course, eventually, his time to tour came around, and it threw your life so violently off track that it was nearly hard to function.

When he first told you, you tried to force a smile and pretend all was well, but he knew you better than that. He could see the sadness in your eyes, and the apprehension. You were both so head over heels for each other that it made it hard to think of anything else. All of the late night phone calls and evenings spent immersed in each other had finally resulted in something much bigger. You were in love, and you were terrified for him to leave you. You feared that once he was gone, he would find someone more exciting, more interesting. Little did you know, he was afraid of all the same things.

So, as you sat in his living room while he packed up the last of his things, he dropped a sly comment about you taking care of his place while he was gone, coming over and watering his plants, and even staying the night if you missed him too much. It was his indirect way of giving you a key to his house, and in turn, his heart. He slipped the spare key from his pocket, handing it over and giving you a smile. Before he went to the airport, you found yourselves confessing your hearts and kissing with tears running down your face. He asked you to be his girlfriend before he ever got on the plane.

Every night, when he was holed up in a different hotel room, he was calling you with excitement, unable to wait to tell you all about his day. It was a different kind of feeling, falling in love with someone without anything other than emotional connection. After a year of touring and only being home with you for a few days at a time, he was growing restless and more eager to be with you again. By the time he got home from traveling the world, he missed you so much that he rarely let you leave his side. Within a few months, your belongings were packed up and ready to be taken to his house, and not long after that, it was no longer just Jake’s house, it was yours, too.

When the two of you were together, it grew increasingly more difficult to navigate your lack of sexual experience. He was very affectionate, his hands always on you and kissing you whenever he could. You felt that he was getting frustrated with your rejections, and it forced you into a corner. You had to open up to him, to tell him the truth and that your avoidance was not because of him at all. You sat him down not long after the two of you moved in together, knowing that you should have confessed to him sooner, and fearful that it would change the way he viewed you.

But, almost as if Jake was put on the earth to challenge every single previous idea you had about men, he smiled and held you, expressing his gratitude that you were comfortable enough to share such things with him. He fell in love with you without sex, and that did not change anything for him. You were worth much more to him than that, and he wanted to make sure you knew it. He thanked you for telling him, and he apologized if he ever made you uncomfortable with his actions before your discussion. He promised that he would never push you, and you could take as much time as you needed to open up and explore that with him.

He was a dream come true, and after a few months, you could easily see that he was determined to stay true to his word. He didn’t once make you feel bad for wanting to wait a little longer, and he never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. Soon after, you began to realize that Jake truly was the one for you, and that all of your previous fears were quickly becoming obsolete. He did not want you for sex; he loved you for your heart, and when you were ready, he would love you for everything else, too.

Even while you found yourself amidst heated make out sessions, and you could feel how much he wanted you, he never pushed you further. When you laid in bed, and he inevitably found his hands becoming more and more curious, he stopped himself before you even had to say anything. He looked the other way when you were getting changed, and even closed his eyes and left the room if he accidentally walked in on you in an awkward position. He was the epitome of patience and kindness, and the longer you watched him respect you in such a way, the harder you fell for him.

You made sure to thank him often, expressing your appreciation for his patience and his willingness to wait. He valued you so highly, and your comfort was always his top priority. Sometimes, you feared that if you made him wait too long, he would begin to lose interest, but every day he proved to you that he was in it for the long haul. He wanted to be with you, and it did not matter in which way. He loved you, and if waiting made you most comfortable, then he would wait forever for you. It quickly became apparent to you that he was the love of your life, and the prospect of sharing that part of you became more enticing every single day.

It was not like you didn’t want to have sex with Jake; if anything, you wanted it so badly that it made it hard to think of anything else sometimes. Once the fear faded away, it was replaced with awkwardness and uncertainty on the topic. You feared that because of your lack of experience, it would be disappointing for him. There were so many questions that you did not know the answer to, and they plagued you almost every time you thought about it. What if he thought you were stupid because you didn't know what you were doing? What if he wasn’t interested in you once you took your clothes off? What if you did nothing but embarrass yourself?

It was all too much sometimes, and you knew the best way to deal with it was to talk to him, but the topic was daunting for you, and it was embarrassing. It was something you knew little about, and it made you feel silly and even a little naïve. You didn’t know what you liked, and you certainly didn’t know how to do anything that he liked. You knew that with the patience that Jake had shown you, he would be nothing but kind in bed, and he would certainly help you figure everything out, but it was so scary to think about, and it was easier for you to avoid it. You were afraid of looking dumb, and the fear hindered you more than anything else. In the time you spent with him, it became more clear that Jake was what you’d been waiting for the whole time, but now you were facing a whole new challenge; being vulnerable enough to let him show you the ropes.

Every so often, curiosity got the best of you, and you let your eyes linger on him a little too long when he was shirtless, and an unfamiliar feeling would blossom in your stomach. He would move a certain way, or his hand would move a little too far up your thigh, and you would be plagued with temptation to touch him. He would wear certain clothes that would drive you crazy when you looked at him for long enough, and it was becoming harder to ignore every single day. He was what you wanted, and it was so difficult to feel that way when you felt paralyzed at the thought of progressing any further. Jake was driving you crazy, and he wasn’t even doing it intentionally; he was just existing, and that was enough to push you closer and closer to the edge.

Like when he would stretch, and a peek of his tanned stomach would be visible, showing you his treasure trail and a slight hint of a v-line, or when he was sleeping so soundly and turned on to his side to pull you to his chest. The feeling of his body against yours was intense, and the longer he held you to him, he more turned on he would get. An ache would begin between your legs as he slept soundly behind you, his erection pressing into your ass. He wouldn’t even realize it, but he would pull you closer to relieve the ache and give him some much needed friction. You would let it play out; you enjoyed it so much, but you could not seem to voice that to him while he was awake. When he woke and realized the extent of his actions, he apologized profusely while you continued to imagine what it would be like if he kept going, pulling your shorts down just enough to give himself access to you.

You imagined what it would feel like as he rested himself against your entrance, speaking softly in your ear as he talked you through it. How he would put his fingers in his mouth, collecting enough spit to lubricate them before his hand drifted between your thighs. You wondered what it would feel like for his fingers to be tracing around your clit instead of your own, how excited he would be just from touching you alone. Your skin tingled at the thought of his rough fingertips gently working at you as he whispered encouragement in your ear, eventually working you up enough to add his cock to you, too. The picture of him being inside you was too much to bear, and just the thought of feeling so close to him was intoxicating. You had to force a smile on your face while apologized, assuring him you were alright while you thought of all of the filthy things that he could be doing to you. You wanted it so bad, but when you finally found enough courage to ask that of him, the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

When he would leave for errands, or when he would go to work in the mornings, you would think back on the incidents that caused the flutter in your belly. The longer you focused on it, the more uncomfortable you became. You would work yourself up to the point of no return, and you would have to relieve yourself before Jake got back. In your shared bed, you would let your hand slip between your legs as you thought of all of the things Jake did to you without even knowing it. It wouldn’t take long until you were a mess, muttering his name as you reached a climax that was stronger than any you’d ever felt before.

It was almost routine, now. You were so needy that every time Jake stepped out for a moment, you would have to take the time and get yourself off. It was the only way you could keep up with the temptations without having to open up to him about it. He would come home, and you would smile and kiss him as if your fingers hadn’t just been playing with your own cunt while you imagined it was him doing it, instead.

This small ritual was exactly what happened on that specific day; you had grown so comfortable with it that when Jake left for the studio in the morning, you couldn’t wait to finish your household chores so you could cut straight to the point. You kissed him goodbye, wishing him a good day, and watched as he walked to his car, guitar case in his hand as he blew a kiss to you over his shoulder. The jeans he was wearing were tight, hugging every inch of his legs and showcasing every small detail to you. The denim sat nicely over his ass, and unfortunately for you, every other part of him that you tried your best not to think about. His shirt was old, the button up beginning to fray at the sleeves and the fabric becoming thin and worn. He had the last two buttons done, but left the top open as always. The soft, tanned skin of his chest made your mouth water and your stomach twist with desire. You did not know how much longer you could hold yourself back.

He got in his car and drove away, but you stayed at the door, watching the now empty space for a moment longer while you collected your thoughts. You were so worked up that your cheeks were burning and your heart was thudding dramatically against your chest. You forced yourself to shower, taking some extra time to shave and really make yourself feel good. You did the dishes, and you grabbed something to eat, and you wondered if you might be able to curb the urge that day. Once you were away from him and busy with other things, the need seemed so much smaller.

As you sat down to eat, you knew that it was absolutely impossible to ignore such a feeling, because the minute your mind was left without a distraction, Jake was the only thing it wanted to focus on. You forced your lunch into you, remembering that Jake said his day at the studio might be a little longer than the last. You had ample time to really draw the whole experience out, so that’s what you did. When you made it to your bedroom, you knew you had about an hour until he was home again. You took off your clothes, put on some music, only quietly so you could hear if the front door opened, you turned off the lights, and you laid on his side of the bed. You closed your eyes, breathing slowly as you remembered the morning the two of you spent together. It started sweet, like always.

You woke up with Jake next to you, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the sheets as the soft sounds of his snores filled your ears. You looked back over your shoulder at him, smiling as you admired the peaceful expression on his face. He was shirtless, as always, only a pair of boxers on as the comforter covered up his lower half. You watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and his stomach, too. You knew you shouldn’t have looked for so long, because the longer you stared, the more curious you became. You reached out, settling your hand on his stomach gently, a little lower than you usually would. You let your fingers drift over the skin, sending a light tickle through him. He tensed slightly at the feeling, but did not wake. After a few seconds, he woke up just enough to realize it was you touching him.

He moved onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Every morning went the same, and you looked forward to it every day. He guided you into him, resting your back against his bare chest. His warmth was comforting, and you wished to live in the moment forever. His hand that was wrapped around you drifted underneath your shirt, resting on your stomach as he brought you even closer to him. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips and his nose was brushing against your shoulder. His head was buried in the crook of your neck as he placed a gentle kiss on it. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine and you closed your eyes. He seemed more awake than he usually was, but not completely aware.

You brought your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his own. Once you felt like he’d drifted off to sleep again, you guided his hand upwards even further, so it was resting on your rib cage just below your breast. You wanted to take it further, but instead, you pushed your ass back into him a little. In his sleepy state, the small feeling prompted a physical reaction. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t move any further. For a moment, you had to question if he was awake too, or if he was stuck in a dream about the exact position you were laying in. His rough fingertips against your skin was intoxicating, and you needed more, but you were too afraid to wake him and tell him so.

You moved your hips against him again, feeling his fingers tighten against you. His knuckles brushed against the underside of your breast, and even in a sleeping state, he could recognize that feeling from anywhere. On his own, he moved his hand up further, cupping it in his palm as his head nuzzled further into your neck. Your breath caught in your throat and that familiar feeling began to pulse in the pit of your stomach. His grip grew stronger, and for a moment, you really did believe that he was awake. His thumb drifted over your hardened nipple, causing your hips to move against him again.

You could feel his erection growing against you, becoming more noticeable as each second passed. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the ache begin to make itself known. Your breathing sped, and your heart pounded against your chest. His hand stayed on your chest for only a moment until a small noise escaped him, his own need showing even while he was asleep. His hand traveled down your body, landing on your hip as he pulled you back on him. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep yourself quiet. You bit down on your lip, scared to make a sound in case he woke and the moment ended.

His fingers held you tightly as he pulled you back on to him, his cock painfully hard as his hips moved against your ass. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, and you could only imagine that he was feeling the same type of desperation amidst his dreams. Then, as your heart raced, you heard him whisper your name so delicately that a shiver ran down your spine. He wasn’t just dreaming of sex; he was dreaming of you.

Instead of focusing on what came after, when he woke up with embarrassment written in his features and apologies on his tongue, you pretended what it would be like if you had the courage to tell him to keep going. As you thought of it, you let your hand slip between your thighs. You were already aching for relief, your arousal pooling and showing you just how bad you needed him. You let your middle finger begin tracing slow circles around your clit as your mind clung to thoughts of Jake and just how much you wanted him to take care of you.

You imagined his dark eyes growing heavy as he woke, apologizing being the last thing on his mind. You imagined the desperation in his movement as his fingers dipped below your shorts, moving back from you only for long enough to pull them down over your ass. You thought about how good it would feel to have his hand drift to your cunt, relieving the ache that he’d become so good at causing. You didn’t want him to ask if it was okay, or for any type of permission. You wanted him to have you however he wanted, and you would just be thankful that he was giving you anything at all.

“How does that feel, Angel?” He asked, his voice raspy and rough from sleep as his fingers trace around your aching clit. “Does that feel good? Is this what you want?”

“F-fuck, yes, Jake.” You whine, moving your hips forward to meet his hand, so needy and he barely even touched you yet.

“Just want me to take care of you, baby? Need me to show you how good I can make you feel?” His normally sweet and doting personality was gone, replaced with an animalistic desire after waiting so long to have you. You could feel his cock pressing into your ass, still aching to be touched. He needed you so bad that it was impossible to hide it. “You know I’ll always take care of you, sweet girl… give you anything you want.”

“Y-you, Jake. I want you.” You pleaded, feeling yourself clench around nothing. You wanted him so badly, and you weren’t sure if you could wait any longer.

“You want me, sweetheart?” He crooned, the sound of your desperation sending a shiver down his spine. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes please,” you plead, feeling your stomach twist with pleasure.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered, his tone resembling a growl. He drew his hand from you, pulling his boxers down just enough to free himself. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting on it and stroking himself for a few moments. He moved his hips forward, resting the tip of his cock against your entrance. “How bad do you want it, sweetheart.” His low tone settled deep in your bones, making your entire body quiver.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath stuck in your throat as you feel him push inside of you.

You worked yourself up to the point of absolute desperation. You felt like you were on the brink of insanity, your skin was on fire and your mind was a mess with thoughts of the boy you were so in love with. You were so deep in the fantasy that you could feel it, as if he was in front of you, touching you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You were sweating, your heart racing and your stomach twisted into knots. You needed to let go, but more than that, you needed him.

Little to your knowledge, Jake was unlocking the front door, a sneaky smile on his face as a bouquet of flowers was held tightly in his hand. He’d been planning this all week; coming home from the studio early to surprise you, just to see the look on your face. He’d been working more often than usual as of late, and he felt like he wasn’t spending enough time with you. He’d specifically told you he’d be later than he actually would be, just so he wouldn’t ruin the element of shock. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he expected to be greeted by you soon after. His confusion grew as he looked to the kitchen and did not see you there. Next, he checked the living room, wondering if you were curled up on the couch reading a book.

When he couldn’t find you there, he figured the only other place you would be is the bedroom. Your car was outside, and you hadn’t mentioned having to run any errands that day. He took to the stairs, wondering if you decided to take a nap or watch a movie in bed. As he climbed to the top of the stairs, he noticed the soft drift of music through the door. He smiled to himself, knowing he would find you wrapped up in blankets and dozing away the day. He could curl up next to you, holding you close while you slept, and maybe even fall asleep beside you. As he reached the door, he was about to reach out and turn the knob, but he froze in his tracks.

An unfamiliar, incredibly enticing sound reached his ears. It was muffled, barely heard over the speaker and through the closed door, but he caught it. Instead of interrupting, he waited and listened, wondering if his ears were deceiving him. He moved his head closer to the door, nearly pressing his ear against the hollow wood as he strained to hear, trying to piece together the situation.

You were so lost in your own little world that you did not hear the door open downstairs, nor did you hear his footsteps in the hallway. You were so close to an orgasm that not much could distract you from it. Your eyes were shut, your breathing labored as you pictured how softly his hands would drift over the curves of your hips, and how intoxicating his tongue on your skin would feel. You thought of the sweet words rolling off his tongue, the imaginary praise and encouragement driving you even closer to a climax. He would be so sweet, so attentive and caring, and you knew he’d make you feel better than you ever had before. You couldn’t help it, the moans falling from your lips were obscene and his name was delicately mixed within them as if he was in there with you, causing the pleasure himself.

He listened carefully, his cheeks flushing with pleasure at the sound of pleasure stuck on your lips. Desire filled him, running all the way from his throat down to his stomach. It made his chest burn and his skin tingle with excitement. In an instant, he’d forgotten about the romantic gesture and the flowers in his hand; he was only focused on wanting to be the reason those sounds were laced around your tongue. He didn’t want to interrupt, and he feared that if he opened the door, he would embarrass you to death. He worried about overstepping, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the sounds were so beautiful that it made his head spin. He tried to force himself to stop listening, fearing he was breaching your trust and invading your privacy, but he couldn’t will himself to walk away.

He was growing increasingly frustrated as he stood and listened, his heart pounding against his chest and his whole body aching with desire. He could feel himself growing more turned on, his cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans as his own desperation became stronger. He palmed himself through the fabric, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He knew he should walk away, leave you alone to finish up and go take care of his own problem. It was the right thing to do, and he knew that, but the idea of you touching yourself, possibly to the thought of him, was so enticing.

Just as he thought he could find the strength to walk away, he heard the sound, so gentle and loving that he could not withstand it any longer.

“Oh god, Jake.” You whined, the sound floating through the door and settling deep in his chest. “Jake…”

It was too much for him. His hand shot out, clasping around the doorknob as he gently pushed it open. The light flooded the room, illuminating you laying so intimately on his side of the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, blotchy with red patches. A thin layer of sweat had formed over your body, only making you all the more beautiful to him. Your lips were parted, his name still caught on your tongue as your hand was settled between your legs, working intently at your cunt. Your head turned to the side, your eyes wide with shock as you tried to process the sudden change in the situation. You were so caught up in pleasure that your hand didn’t even move away from your clit as you locked eyes with him.

Suddenly, your brain seemed to catch up with the situation, and embarrassment began to take over. You panicked, scrambling to move your hand away and cover yourself with the blanket, but he took a step closer and shook his head, speaking lowly to you.

“Don’t be shy, Angel.” He rasped, looking down over you with dark eyes. The man before you seemed to be a stranger, nothing like he was in the morning before he left, but in the best possible way. The calm, domineering tone was so different, but it was fantastic all in the same. He looked down at you, his lips curled into a slight smirk as he stood over you at the foot of the bed. The desire he’d been holding back for so long seemed to be coming to the surface. He couldn’t help himself, and a part of you was thankful for it. “Don’t stop, sweetheart. You can put on such a good show.” His eyes lingered over your face, watching you closely to see if you were uncomfortable. Instead of discomfort, you seemed curious, excited, even.

And you were. You didn’t intend for the situation to turn into this, but perhaps it was the best possible outcome. You had been so afraid to have sex with Jake, and for reasons that were completely irrelevant. He was the man you’d fallen so deeply in love with, and someone you wanted to share this part of you with, too. Him walking in on you allowed you to avoid the awkward conversations and nervous stuttering, because you were already worked up to the point of no return. This made the part you were dreading so much easier, and the look in his eye made you feel foolish for ever thinking he wouldn’t love your body just as much as he loved your heart. Something in his expression told you that he would give you all of the direction you needed if you allowed him to do so.

Slowly, you pushed the blanket away from your body, returning your hand to its earlier position. You continued holding his gaze as you brought your middle finger back to your clit, tracing slow circles while he gave you a smile of satisfaction.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m gone all day?” He asked, his tone low and gravelly. He was so overcome with lust that it was impossible to think of anything else. “As soon as I leave, you come up here and play with that pretty little cunt, without me?” His expression was stern, his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. You could see his cock strained against his pants, and the fact that he was really standing before you rather than existing in your imagination was making the pleasure all the more intense. His words were filthy, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to scare you. You’d been fantasizing about words like that coming from his mouth since the first day you met him.

“Y-yeah,” you nod, stuttering slightly. He didn’t care, nor did he notice, anyway. Your embarrassment was growing smaller with every passing second, and the desire in his eyes made the whole thing seem less terrifying. To see him want you so badly made your stomach twist into knots. He gave you a small smile at the word, happy to see that you weren’t shutting him out. The small expression was enough encouragement for you to keep going.

“Do you think of me, Angel?” He asked, his gaze flickering down to your hand, working carefully to build yourself back up to an orgasm. “Do you wish that I was here doing it, instead?” He asked, reaching one hand down to his cock, adjusting himself in his pants to make it more comfortable while he watched. Your eyes were fixated on his hand, cheeks red at the thought. You wanted to see more, but you weren’t sure what to do next. You were so out of your comfort zone, but something about being able to do it with Jake made it all the more easier. “Come on, baby. Talk to me.” His voice was softer, now, showing you that he was willing to help you through it.

“I-I do,” you nod, catching his eye again. Somewhere in his pupil, he was trying to tell you that it was okay, and you believed it.

“You want to show me what you do when I’m not here?” He asked, gauging your comfort level with his questions.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathe, nodding again. He gave you another smile, licking his lips slightly. To see him look at you in such a way was almost too much to resist. Instead of jumping straight into it, you let him talk you through it, slowly and steadily.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Just like that.” He said, watching as your hand worked at your cunt. “Then, once you finish, maybe I can show you what it’s like when someone else does it for you.” He posed it like a statement, but he was asking for permission. He needed to touch you so badly, but only if you wanted him to.

“Yes, please.” You whisper, excited at the thought. You were already so close to the edge, spending the last half an hour working yourself up to a climax. The intrusion slowed down your progress, but definitely did not stop it completely. As you finger drifted over your clit, your stomach was burning with the familiar feeling, but it seemed so much more intense than before now that he was watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you could feel the pull of pleasure again, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breathing.

“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job for me.” He said, but it was strained. He wanted to be the one driving you crazy, and it was nearly torture having to watch you and not touch you. You try to hold your moans back, scared to embarrass yourself, but he thought that your state was all but shameful. He thought you were gorgeous, and he felt so lucky to be able to see you like this at all. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, sweet girl.” He pleaded, taking a step closer to the bed. “Don’t be shy with me.” At his permission, your lips parted and a soft moan filled the air. The sound alone nearly drove him to insanity. He watched you carefully, noticing as the muscles in your stomach tensed with every wave of pleasure. He wanted to remember the way you looked in that moment forever.

You were so close to an orgasm, and the desperation was evident in your movements and your voice. He needed it like the starving needed food, and he couldn’t wait much longer. He leaned down over you on the bed, letting his hand drift over your exposed thigh, the touch light but electric.

“Fuck, Jake.” You expressed your thoughts, feeling the pleasure pulsing under your skin and throughout your entire body.

“Look at me, baby.” He said, wanting you to open your eyes. You did as he said, catching the warm brown of his irises and feeling the warmth flood you. Your breath caught in your throat, and your muscles constricted. You were so close, and him looking at you in such a way made it all the more intense. “Let go,” he hummed, giving you a smile. His eyes were heavy and his chest was heaving with every breath. “Come for me, Angel.” And you did, your limbs trembling as the pleasure took hold. You’d never felt like that in your entire life, and it was so intense that it made your head spin and your chest burn. You didn’t think it was possible to feel such a way, but as you looked into Jake’s eyes, you knew it was all because of him. “That’s my girl.” He sighed, leaning down and pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh.

The feeling made you melt into his touch, his lips so delicate against your warm skin. You wanted more; suddenly, your own hand wasn’t enough. You needed him to do it for you, to feel what it was like when he touched you. You reached down, cupping his cheek in your hand as you let your thumb drift over his cheek. He hummed against you, still focused on the feeling of your thigh against his mouth. The longer he left them there, kissing a trail upwards, the sloppier he became. He sucked light marks into the delicate skin as his hand found your hip, pulling you down on the mattress towards him. He wanted you to feel admired, to know how strongly he felt for you. He wanted you to know that the situation did not have to be scary, and he only wanted to make you feel good. He was there for you, and his pleasure came second to all of your needs.

You watched him as he did all he could to showcase his admiration. You were still aching to be touched, the orgasm you had given yourself long gone and barely enough to keep you satisfied. You needed to feel him, you needed him to bring you to such pleasure, and you couldn’t believe you waited so long to feel him like this.

“Are you okay with this, baby?” He asked, looking up to you with his eyes nearly closed from the weight of lust in his stare.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “I’m… I'm okay.”

“You tell me if you need me or want me to stop, okay?” He ordered, settling on his stomach between your legs. “Even if you just want me to slow down… I need you to tell me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” You hummed a response of agreement, but he didn’t move any further. “I need to hear the words, honey.”

“I will, Jake. I promise.” He gave you a soft smile, looking over your face to search for any discomfort. When he saw only excitement, he brought his own hand between your legs. Carefully, he brought his fingers to you, gathering your arousal on his fingers before bringing them to your clit. The feeling was foreign, but as soon as his fingers landed on the sensitive bundle of nerves, the unfamiliarity quickly became obsolete. His rough, calloused fingertips moved slowly over you as his eyes stayed on your face. It was immediately pleasant, way more so than your own hands doing the work.

“How’s that, Angel?” He hummed, his eyes flickering down to his hand that was working at you. His mouth watered from the sight, but he held himself back from going any further until you were comfortable.

“S-so good.” You whined, looking down at his face. The sight of his eyes fixated on your cunt made your stomach burn with desire. All of the fear you felt before was gone; you should have known better than to think Jake would view you as anything other than gorgeous.

“You want me to keep going?” He asked, looking back up at you.

“Yes, please.” You breathed, nodding at him. He gave you a smile, adding a little more pressure to his thumb. The sensation caused you to move your hips down on his hand, searching for more. He kept the pace for a moment, before sliding his thumb in place of his middle finger. He rested his middle and index finger against your entrance, waiting to see your reaction before doing anything else.

“Is this okay?”

“G-god, yes.” You nodded, still sensitive from your first orgasm. Everything he was doing felt fantastic, and you never wanted him to stop. Before going any further, he leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from his lips to his fingers, making sure that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for you. You watched, feeling a flutter of emotion rush to your core at the sight. He gave you a small smirk, noticing the reaction. Slowly, he added one finger first, wanting you to grow comfortable with the feeling before going any further. Once he knew you were alright, he added a second.

“There you go, beautiful.” He smiled, noticing your eyebrows furrow with pleasure as a moan fell from your lips. Gently, he pumped his fingers into you a few times, spitting on his hand once again to lubricate them further. “God, you have no idea how much I thought about doing this.” He muttered, more to himself than you.

“Y-you… you think about this?” You asked, your cheeks turning red at the thought.

“Think about it?” He nearly scoffed. “Baby, I dream about it.” He corrected, curling his fingers upwards slightly as his thumb brushed over your clit. You let out a sharp breath, the feeling unfamiliar but incredibly pleasant. “I think about making you feel good, and about how pretty I knew you would look while you cum…” he trailed off, driving himself crazy at his own words. “About how good you’d taste, and how good you’d feel…” he cut himself off, realizing he might be too obscene for you at the moment. You looked down at him, almost as if you were pleading with him to keep going. The knowledge that he thought about you the same way you thought about him made your heart skip a beat. “How good you’d feel wrapped around my cock.” He finished, stronger and more confident. He could feel your walls clench around his finger at the sound of his words.

“I think about you, too, Jake.” You confessed, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back on the pillow. The pleasure was more intense than anything you’d felt before, and his words were making it all the more satisfying.

“Yeah? You think about me touching you like this?” He paused his thoughts, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Such a dirty little thing.” He teased, smiling up at your blushed face. “I love it.” He made sure that you knew that more than anything else. “How does this feel, gorgeous?”

“It feels so good, Jake.” You assure him, hoping that he won’t stop.

“Can I try something?” He asks, leaning down and pressing a few more kisses into your thighs.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You nod, unsure of what he had in mind, but trusting him more than anything.

“M’gonna use my mouth, okay?” He said, scanning your face. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, excited at the prospect.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay Angel?”

“Okay.” You nod, your eyes fixated on him as he moved closer to your heat. He moved his thumb from your clit, but you barely have time to mourn the loss before his mouth was on you and his tongue was doing the work, instead. “Oh, fuck.” You whine, reaching down and tangling your hand in his hair. The feeling was more intense, and definitely more powerful. The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue was like heaven, and so unlike anything you’d felt before. He barely started and you could feel your walls fluttering against his fingers. You were bordering another orgasm, and you weren’t sure how much you could take before you let go.

His tongue moved carefully, but with intent. It drifted over your clit, savoring any bit of arousal still left on you. His eyes were closed as his hips moved down on the mattress, the friction barely relieving the ache of his cock, but making it a little more bearable. Your breathing was shallow, and the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair was driving him crazy. He pumped his fingers into you as his tongue worked at you, curling his fingers slightly every time he re-entered. The different types of stimulation was not overwhelming, but just enough as they worked together to push you to the edge.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whined. He hummed against you, showing you how much he was enjoying the sound. The vibration ran through you, tightening the knot in your stomach. You were so close, and your skin was tingling with pleasure. “I think… think m’gonna cum, baby.” You warned. He did not pull away, instead he made his movements more pronounced, needing it more than he needed anything more in his entire life. Your mind was flooded with desire for him, and you could only whimper his name.

He was making you feel better than you ever had before, and you were so in love with him at that moment. You couldn’t think of anyone else you’d rather be doing this with, and you felt so comfortable and loved. He adored you, and he was coaxing you so gently to a climax that it was hard to feel any fear or anxiety about it. He was so gentle and kind, his touch soft and his words sweet. He wanted you to get the most out of it, and more than anything, he wanted to make your first time special. He waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he was doing everything in his power to make sure you enjoyed it.

The orgasm washed over you hard, making your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut. Your fingers tightened around the stands of his hair, and you moaned his name as the pleasure took over. The obscenities falling from your lips painted the walls, burying the memory in the room until the end of time. You felt so good that you forgot how to breathe, and your head felt light. As the intensity died down and you relaxed against him, he began to taper his movements off until he came to a complete stop. As you caught your breath, he pulled back from you and looked up at your face. His eyes were heavy, and lust was hanging thick in the air. He needed you, and he did not have to say it aloud; you could feel it.

As he straightened up, his chin was glistening in the dim light, your orgasm lingering on his skin to remind you of the moment. “How was that, beautiful?” He asked, his voice husky. Your mind was still hazy as you admired his face, watching as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

“So, so good, baby.” You sighed, giving him a lazy smile.

“You want to keep going?” He asked, standing from the bed. You admired him, shirtless and standing over you. Your head was swimming with joy and your skin was ablaze with desire for him. You made it this far, and you wanted to go all the way. You were more than ready to take the step with him, especially after he was so caring and loving with you just moments before.

“Yes, please.” You whisper, giving him a smile. He returned the expression, slowly undoing his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops. His discarded it on the floor, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You felt like you were holding your breath as you waited for him to undress, feeling excitement begin to build within you. He slipped out of his jeans, kicking them to the side. Then, he looked at you, making sure you were okay before he took off his boxers. He saw the admiration in your eyes, and it made his stomach flutter with adoration.

“You want me, sweet girl?” He whispered, his jaw tense as he watched you look at him in wonder.

“Yes, please.” You nod, waiting for him to advance further. He gave you a soft smile, pulling off his boxers and throwing them to the side. When he straightened up, your breath caught in your throat. He was stunning. The discreet toned muscles in his abdomen that were so often hidden by clothes took your breath away. The soft v-line leaning down from his hips was delicious, and you could feel the arousal begin to grow once more. When he stepped closer, the light seemed to shine on him a little more. You could see all of him, and he was breathtaking.

His cock was painfully hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum, and it was so enticing. Seeing all of him was something so special, and you almost regretted not doing it sooner. He kneeled before you on the bed, settling between your legs as he smiled down at you. “Hi, gorgeous.” He hummed, his expression sweet and his eyes showing you nothing but love.

“Hi,” you grinned, feeling excitement overtake all of the anxiety. He reached to the other side of the bed, grabbing a pillow.

“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” He said. You did as he told you, and he slid the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a little more comfortable.” He promised, leaning down and bracing his arm beside your head. He gave you a stupid smile that told you how enthusiastic he was. You couldn’t help but smile back, finding his joy infectious. He leaned a little further down, capturing you in a kiss. You melted into the feeling, so relieved at the comfortable and familiar feeling after so many new sensations. You closed your eyes, cupping his cheek in your hand to hold him to you. You wanted to live in the moment with him forever.

He didn’t rush you, kissing you softly for as long as you needed. It was messy, but it was beautiful. His teeth pulled your bottom lip between them, teasing you slightly. You smiled against him, finding the playfulness soothing. “I love you, Jake.” You mumble against his lips.

“I love you so much, Angel.” He whispers, looking down over your face. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the whole world, you know that right?” Your cheeks burn red, but you can’t hold back your smile. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you.” You sigh, your chest aching with the amount of love you have for him.

“Thank you for trusting me, y/n.” His voice is full of emotion now. The lust took the back burner, second to his love and appreciation for you.

“Thank you for being someone I can trust.” He smiled at your words, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more.

“Are you ready? If not, I can wait.” He assured you.

“I am.” You promised. “I’m ready.” He gave you another kiss, biting back another smile. He felt giddy with you, like it was his first time again, too. The strength in which he felt for you nearly brought him to his knees. He leaned back, looking down over your body with a look on his eyes you weren’t sure he’d ever seen before. It was so full of emotion that it made your stomach twist into knots. He spit into his hand, stroking himself before lining himself up with your entrance. He looked to you for approval, and you gave a slight nod of your head.

“It might be a little uncomfortable, so just tell me if it is, okay? Just want you to feel good, baby.”

“I will.” His concern with your pleasure was driving you crazy. He guided your legs around him and waited for a moment, giving you the chance to change your mind. When you said nothing, he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

The feeling was different, but not unpleasant. It took a moment to get used to it as he fully buried himself in you. He paused before moving any further, looking to see if you were okay. You couldn’t help but notice how full you felt, how well he fit with you, and how right it felt. You caught his eye, letting out a little sigh of satisfaction. The small sound nearly pushed him over the edge as he sat, completely still inside of you. His cock twitched slightly, the knowledge that you were enjoying him sending him feral.

“You want to wait, or do you want me to keep going?”

“Keep going, please.” You breathed, wanting more. He gave you a small smile, moving his hips ever so slightly. You tended slightly, adjusting to the feeling, but as he continued, it began to grow more comfortable. Soon after, prickles of pleasure started to ignite your skin. “Oh, Jake.” You sigh, letting your head fall back on the pillow. “That feels… so good.” His jaw clenched at your words, thrilled at your enjoyment.

“Yeah? You like it, baby?” He asked, reaching down and letting his fingers dust over your bare stomach. They trailed all the way to your chest as he cupped your breast in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb toyed with your nipple, the small sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

“I do,” you breathe, nodding your head.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered to himself. “You feel so fucking good, angel. Doing so good for me.” Your walls clenched around him as he spoke, drawing him in further. He wasn’t moving very fast, but the feeling was more than enough. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, even if you didn’t realize it before. Slowly, he began to pick up the pace, unable to hold himself back any longer. “Tell me if you need me to slow down, baby.”

“I will,” you moaned, feeling the intensity begin to build in your belly again. “God, Jake. F-faster, please.” You pleaded. He let out a groan, resembling more of a growl than anything else. He grabbed your hips, pulling you down towards him a little further. His thrusts sped, and he put a little more force behind his movements. He looked down, watching how your bodies fit together, feeling a whole new sense of desire as your hips met his with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He groaned, leaning down and pulling you into a kiss. He’d waited so long to feel you like this, and he was afraid he might not be able to hold himself back.

“Fuck, Jake.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. His hands on your hips felt so good, his fingers burning into you in the most intoxicating way. You felt better than you ever did before, and you never wanted to stop feeling that way. He was so enchanting, and everything he was doing was euphoric. You felt like you were melting into him, both of you becoming one as the fire burned in your hearts.

“Need you to cum for me one more time, angel. Just one more.” He pleaded, pulling you down on him as he thrusted into you. The angle he was hitting was intoxicating, pulling you in further with every move of his hips. His lips met your again in a heated kiss, your chests heaving as the intensity continued to consume you. Your stomach was twisted in knots and your forehead was glistening with sweat. Your whole body felt like it was ablaze with pleasure, and you needed more than he could give.

He pulled back from you, his hips still keeping a steady pace as his hand reached between you, circling around your clit once again. The second sensation to hold with a fervent appetite, consuming you entirely and making it impossible to think of anything else. His fingers on you and his cock filling you up was pushing you to euphoria, and your vision began to blur. Your mind was hazy as you tried to focus on his face, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone so beautiful.

“You think you can give me one more, beautiful?” He asked, his voice shaking as he spoke. He was holding himself back to make sure you were pleased, but the idea of him being such a mess for you was driving you even closer to insanity. The most pleasurable part of the whole thing was knowing how good he felt, and how much he loved pleasing you.

“Y-yeah,” you managed a nod, looking up at him with desperate eyes. Your muscles were tightening as you tensed, preparing for the wave of pleasure about to wash over you. The burning in the pit of your stomach was familiar now, and you knew that he was the only one who knew how to get you there.

“Cum for me, baby.” He said, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with precision. Your legs locked around him began to tremble, and your breathing was ragged. You were so close, and you needed it. More than that, you needed him to cum at the same time.

“Cum with me, please.” You pleaded, admiring the look of pleasure twisting his expression. He let out a groan at your words, his eyebrows knitting together as his hair hung down over his face. You’d never seen Jake look so ethereal before, and it was driving you mad.

“That’s what you want, angel? That will make you happy?”

“Please, Jake.” You said, reaching up and clasping your fingers around his bicep.

“Anything for my girl,” he muttered, his head falling back as he let out a string of curses. He even made the obscenities sound beautiful. You watched as the columns of his neck tightened and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, sweat dripping delicately down across his skin. Strands of hair stuck to the damp skin, framing him in a picture you wished to burn into your mind until the end of time.

The climax hit you hard, and you clenched around him, crying his name as you felt the pleasure fill you completely. He didn’t have time to nurture you through it, because at the same time, his orgasm washed over him. As you rode out the high, his hips stuttered and a breathy moan fell from his lips. He spilled his release inside of you, the feeling so addicting that it forced you into another wave of pleasure. Heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, and after the intensity began to fade, Jake leaned down and wrapped you in his arms. Without withdrawing from you, he turned on his back and pulled you on top of him. With a giggle, you landed comfortably in his arms with a smile so wide it made your cheeks ache.

You rested your head on his chest, your skin still tingling with the ghost of your orgasm. You placed a kiss to the skin, feeling his heart thud against his ribcage. His hand trailed down your back, his fingers tickling you slightly as he traced shapes into your skin. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you didn’t need to; the whole world felt perfect.

“How was that, angel?” He asked, reaching up and tucking your hair behind your ear. You grinned down at him, unable to put your thoughts into words. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great, Jake.” You assured him, leaning into the touch of his hand.

“You’re not hurt, are you? I wasn’t too rough?” His hand shot to your hip as he looked down, trying to see if he left any marks on you. He was panicking, worried that he hadn’t taken good enough care of you. The last thing he wanted was for you to be in pain.

“It was perfect, my love. It was better than I could have ever imagined.” You promised, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He relaxed against you, feeling better at the sound of your words.

“So… it was good? You… you liked it?” He said, his own nerves getting the best of him. You could feel him start to go soft inside of you, but neither of you cared to move. You laid together, smiling in bliss at the moment.

“It was phenomenal… I had a fantastic time.” You said, blushing slightly. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, beautiful.” He pulled your head down so he could place a kiss to your forehead. “It was my pleasure.”

“I do, though. Thank you for being patient, and thank you for caring enough to wait it out. And… thank you for making my first time so special. I’ve always been kind of… afraid, I guess, and you made it so easy.”

“I’m glad I could do that for you, angel. You’re my biggest priority, and I just want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable, and I want you to have a good time.”

“I had such a good time.” You smiled, laying your head on his chest again. “Do you… you think maybe we can do it again, soon?” His grip tightened on you as he let out a small chuckle.

“Sweetheart, we can do it whenever you want. All you have to do is say the word.” He promised.

“I love you so much, Jake.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to his chest with a smile on your lips.

“You have no idea how much I love you, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

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