#excuse the bad synopsis
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Development blog for the upcoming IF: The Whisper in the Mist. This IF is based on Pacific Rim media (with a focus on the 2013 film).
Asks are welcome (including explicit asks).
Rated 18+ for explicit language, unhealthy coping methods, dark humour, mental health issues, character death, sexual content (optional), violence, blood, gore, mutilation and body horror, and murder and attempted murder. Will be updated as needed.
Setting: Tsing Yi Island, Hong Kong (with futuristic elements).
Other IF account: @kalorphic
When I was a kid, whenever I'd feel small or lonely...I'd look up at the stars and wonder if there was life up there. Turns out I was looking in the wrong direction.
When alien life entered our world it was from deep beneath the Pacific Ocean. A fissure between two tectonic plates. A portal between dimensions.
They called it the Breach.
- Raleigh Beckett (Pacific Rim).
It’s funny how quickly things can change.
One minute you’re on top of the world, then the next, your world is crumbling down around you…
Five years ago, you and your drift partner had the highest success rates of any Jaeger pilots. Now, one horrific tragedy and a hasty promotion later, you’re pushing pencils thousands of miles away from the place you called home.
That is, until a Kaiju with stealth abilities like nothing that’s ever been seen before crawls out of the Breach.
Recalled back into service, you’re forced to team up with your once rival under the command of your former drift partner, and the advice of two scientists who seem more interested in the Kaiju’s than your safety. All while someone with more money than sense attempts to undermine you at every turn.
With everything seemingly against you, will you take up the mantle of hero once more or will you let the darkness plaguing your mind consume you?
Customisable MC (including name, pronouns, appearance, and identity). Personality is semi-set (MC uses humour and sarcasm as a coping method for their trauma) for a majority of the time, however there will be chances for character development and therefore more personality choices.
Pilot a Jaeger, fight Kaiju’s, and keep the world safe all while battling your own demons.
Five characters are available to romance. Two are only romanceable in a (triad) poly.
Found family.
RO PoVs.
Befriend (and potentially adopt) a baby Kaiju. Also give your dog lots of love.
Ciaran O’Doherty [M/F] - Hot-tempered and viciously in denial of the love they have for you that has only seemed to grow in your absence, Ciaran is your newly assigned drift partner and self-proclaimed rival. [PROFILE].
Killian Zhao [M/F] - Once a talented pilot and your former drift partner, Killian is now your formidable and highly respected commanding officer with a soft spot reserved just for you. [PROFILE].
Brin Kazlauskas [M/F/NB] - Waspish, fastidious, and someone that no one wants to be on the wrong side of, Brin is a K-Science officer with a wicked protective streak towards Zai and you . Only romanceable in a poly with Zai. [PROFILE].
Zai Oumarou [M/F/NB] - Despite a somewhat anxious disposition around those xe doesn’t know, Zai is a K-Science officer with a lot of enthusiasm and a deep curiosity towards Kaiju. Only romanceable in a poly with Brin. [PROFILE].
Ajax Nikolaou [M!NB/F!NB] - With a twisted determination to be a giant pain in your ass, Ajax is the ruthless CEO of Nikolaou Industries, a company that seeks to make the Pan Pacific Defense Corps completely redundant. [PROFILE].
Ferelith [F] - The baby Kaiju with a sweet character that was rescued by Zai, Ferelith loves cuddles, Lord of the Rings (according to Zai), and munching on Brin’s lab coat.
#the whisper in the mist#interactive fiction#if wip#if game#interactive novel#interactive game#excuse the bad synopsis#i have no one to blame but myself
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Bad Things (To You)
Synopsis. Things they just can’t help but do to you in bed that have you feeling too good.
Pairings. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, bréeding, mating press, oral (female receiving), pússytalking, light pússy-smacking (Toji’s), daddy kínk (Toji’s) cúmplay, squírting, slight exhibitionism (Sukuna’s), bondagé, chokíng, overstím, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.4k
A/N. Was fl@gged n taken down, so here ya go PHEWWWWWWWWW. Also yeah Geto’s I said what I said.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Just the tip.” Or?
“T-Toji, I don’t think-”
“Shhh, doll. M’not talking to you…” Toji hums, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. Angling his head just right to watch his aching cock between your legs - red, angry, just teasing your sloppy hole - ramming inside at such a filthy pace.
Toji really can’t help but drink in your pretty gasps as he edges you closer and closer to- which orgasm was this again? Hell, he can’t even remember, he’s had you on his thighs - on his mouth - on his fingers. Too drunk off of you and those pretty lil’ moans falling from your lips.
A sinful - flimsy - excuse that had Toji begging to finally put his aching cock in. On his knees, practically with the way he loops two strong arms tighter around your waist. Tight. Reaching down to give your pretty cunt a soft-
Smack!
“Ah! Hngh, what-”
“M’talking to her.”
And you can do nothing but keen, at both the stretch and the way he increases his pace. Giving you such a taunting kiss on the cheek before talking - not to you, no - to your poor pussy.
“Your pretty pussy says she can give cum f’me another time.” he grunts. Still just the tip, but already all sloppy desperation and nonsensical babbles. “I know she can. My good girl, no? Gonna cum on my cock?”
And shit Toji doesn’t think he’s ever been harder than right now. Because one look at you - all teary and gasping deliciously around him, bucking your hips for- mercy? More? has Toji wanting to cum right here. To just plunge his throbbing cock into you and add to that absolutely filthy pool of precum on the sheets below.
But no. He promised, right?
“S’too much- M’so full please.” you beg, pussy quivering with exhaustion because once Toji gets hooked it’s impossible to escape. And you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.
“Really?” he hums, reaching down to lick those big fat tears streaming down your cheek. “And this is jus’ the tip? Too much for my baby?”
Positively cooing at how cute you were because you might say you can’t give him another one of your sinful little orgasms - but the way you were milking his cock deliriously, nails digging into his slutty waist to pull him closer, told him what he already knew. “She-” Looking down at your ravaged cunt, “-tells me you can.”
It’s all the confirmation Toji needs before he’s hitting your g-spot. Hard. Eyes widening at the way you gasp out a strangled moan of what sounded like his name. Pussy sucking him up so tight it almost hurt.
Shit.
Now, Toji’s had enough of playing nice. And he tells you - a little over twenty times, actually, while he slams into you like a man possessed. That promise of “just the tip” being the last thing on his mind while he fucks into you so dangerously deeper and deeper - inch by fucking inch.
And fuck he thinks he’s never making that promise again because there was no sight like the one of your snug cunt being split apart on his cock.
“Ya like that, doll?” he’s groaning, hips stuttering so mindlessly. Barely even thinking about getting himself off because fuck Toji needed to see you cum so bad. “See, now I know you can cum f’me again. And-” Toji throws your legs over his sculpted shoulders, thighs burning at the stretch as he bends down down down- “-that slutty pussy of yours is saying that ‘just the tip’ might jus’ not be enough.”
A mating press. Toji Fushiguro had you in a fucking mating press.
He was so unfair. Throwing you around like you were nothing but his lil’ plaything. Hissing so lowly against your lips as he bottoms out. Finally. “N’ I think she might jus’ be right.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Good lil’ wife!
There were only two things that had Nanami rushing home after a long day at work - you, and that pretty lil’ pussy of yours.
The difference? Well, maybe it was the way Nanami had you bent over the kitchen counter, kissing your forehead gently, whispering soft little praises in your ear. His darling wife.
Miles away from how he’s just pulling your drenched panties to the side - too impatient, too starved to remove them. “Was thinkin’ about this all day, my love” Weeping tip just kissing your sloppy hole. “Wanted to come home jus’ to- fuck- this cute lil’ pussy.”
Unforgiving. Nanami Kento was absolutely unforgiving.
Because without another word, he’s stuffing your cunt so disrespectfully full. And oh, how he loved this view, loved the way your scramble to grab onto the counter - the shelves - him. Just anything to get used to the stretch as he fucked into you in quick, mindless little thrusts. Like it killed him to wait.
Yeah, Nanami was sure that this was his favorite part of the day - a little reward when he gets home.
“Kento- ngh-” you keen. “D-did something happen at work?”
“No.”
Oh. Something did, probably a messed up report or another one of Gojo’s antics - but right now, talking about it was the last thing on Nanami’s mind. Because he was set and fully and completely ruining you.
Which is why he’s pooling some of the stray icing on the counter - were you baking before? It makes some dangerous, carnal part of himself jump at the thought of you making something for him. How adorable.
You gasp as you feel him harden impossibly inside you. So angry and hot as he dragged against your plushy walls. Veins bumping against your plushy walls in a dizzying little bump! bump! bump! Shit, you weren’t making it out alive. “Fuck- Kento you just got-”
The taste hits you before the realization. Sweet - like icing. Whatever sentence at the tip of your tongue is cut off as Nanami bullies two fingers inside your mouth.
The way you gag and moan so deliriously around him has all the blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, Nanami has to steel himself from painting your slutty pussy white right then and there - that wouldn’t make him too good of a husband now, would it? How dare he even think of cumming before you do.
“Shhh.” he huffs, hot against your ear. Tongue flattening along the skin, licking long, languid stripes up your neck, catching on the stray smudges of icing. His favorite. “Jus’ take it f’me, my girl.”
All your muffled whines have Nanami only slamming into you faster and faster. Your messy pussy was just soaking his aching cock - smearing your sweet juices all over Nanami’s heavy balls, seeping into your apron and- Ah, that apron. How Nanami loved to fuck you in this, such a cute lil’ pink number that had his cock twitching so dangerously inside you.
Faster. Sloppier.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Should’ve hah- expected this to happen, huh?” One hand snakes its way down to your throbbing clit, rolling the sensitive bud in just the way he knows will make you squeal and buck your hips onto his cock for more more more- “When you sent me those fucking pictures today?”
Because you weren’t quite the innocent little wife that you loved to pretend to be - no, you knew exactly what you were doing sending those selfies in this apron. And nothing else.
“Better not pull that shit again, darling.” Nanami grunts at the sheer thought of it. Pressing at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and craning your head to look into his darkened gaze. “Wouldn’t want to regret it.”
Such pure pride shining in his eyes at your fucked out state - apron stained with the sticky mixture of your slick and his precum.
And the one thing you know you won’t regret is the way you’re cumming. And cumming so hard that it almost hurts.
You, all messy and gorgeous cumming all over his cock, that Nanami can’t help but have his hips stuttering. so sloppy as he thrusts once, twice before pumping thick, hot ropes of cum. Tight balls squeezing so painfully as he cums the way he’s been dying to ever since he opened those sinful little messages from you.
God, he loved coming home.
Whispering, so deceivingly gentle against your lips, sounding miles away from your sweet lover. “Now, spread those pretty legs f’me, darling. Wan’ see if something else tastes as sweet..”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Spell my name (and yours)
“What’d that spell, m’girl?”
Now, Geto always has been told he has a silver tongue - you just never expected he’d use it like this. With you, sat so prettily on his face, eyes watery, swollen lips dropping into a soft oh! as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.
You gasp breathlessly, “I-”
Oh? Will you finally get it this time?
“I don’t know.”
Well, to Geto, that just meant he wasn’t doing his job well enough. And he took that personally.
You could almost sob in desperation as he pulls away ever-so-slightly, pathetically tugging on his dark locks to pull him closer. Uselessly.
Because Geto loved this part. Loved spreading your quivering thighs shamefully apart, all the way until you were letting out such cute lil’ moans at the stretch. Loved acting all disappointed as he stopped making out with your pretty pussy to let her drip! drip! drip! your sweet sweet juices down his waiting tongue.
“M’disappointed.” he tuts, mockingly, your frustrated whines going straight to his aching cock. “Thought you’d finally get it this time, beautiful.”
It’s been like this for so long now, Geto teasing you with his mean tongue. Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock to spell out sinful little words on your dripping cunt - not letting you cum until you got them right.
Oh it just made you want to cry in desperation - and you’re so drunk off of his hot mouth that you barely even realize when you do. Big fat tears dripping down your cheek as you whimper, “S-Sugu, please. Jus’ wanna-”
“Cum?” he muses, giving your folds a long, languid lick. So unfairly gorgeous underneath you that it was almost dizzying - so smug in-between your legs, dark hair splayed across your pillow, your slick glossing all over his pretty pink lips. Ones which move as he plows on, “Then tell me what it spells.”
It’s laughable, really. That muffled little warning - if you can even call it that - before Geto’s diving back nose-deep in your pussy.
Bullying his tongue through your swollen folds - circling your sloppy entrance, dipping in and out in and- It made his cock twitch so painfully to catch the way your mouth drops open in disbelief, torn between trying to catch what he was spelling and bucking up for more more more-
“First two letters?”
You’re snapped out of your euphoric daze, eyes flitting down to where your boyfriend was devouring you with his eyes as much as he was with his mouth.
“Uh- Ngh-” you mewl with each flick of his tongue. A warning. A threat. Slurring slightly at the overstimulation, “Is it- ah- G-E?”
At this, Geto lets out a happy groan - one that has white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes. Mouth only working faster, tracing out delirious little patterns on your pussy. Starting at the base, working all the way up to roll his tongue over your swollen clit.
So rough that you wondered whether it hurt - whether his tongue was cramping up, jaw tired.
“M’alright, sweetheart. Now, next letter.”
Shit, had you said that out loud? Ah, you don’t get to wonder too long about it, because Geto’s rocking your cunt so messily over his soft mouth. Drinking in your broken whine of, “T! It’s T.”
“Good. Next.”
“C?” you babble, grinding down harshly. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as your clench around his soft tongue. But oh you were so cute that he just had to forgive your little mistake.
“Nope.” Geto chuckles, popping off your throbbing clit with a lewd pop! “Try again.” Before starting his assault on your poor cunt again. Faster. Harder. Almost like he didn’t want you to get it.
He likes this - loves it even. Lapping up at your juices like it was his favorite taste, like he never wanted to leave. Just lay there and tease you for hours and hours and-
“Ngh- O. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s O. Geto!”
That’s right, spelling out his name on his girl’s pretty cunt - his his his- And, well, making you yell out what was to be your own last name soon? That was just a bonus.
It makes his balls squeeze so dangerously at how proud you were at your little victory. Walls fluttering around his tongue in a way that Geto knew meant you were close - too close. It almost makes him feel bad for what happens next. Almost.
“Now now. Stay still, beautiful. Haven’t spelled out my first and last name jus’ yet.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - The thirsty
Choso loved you - so much so that it hurt. Everything from that pretty lil’ smile to the way you say his name in bed. And - nobody ever knew this - but he especially loved you when you squirted all over his achingly hard cock, until it was glistening and drenched with you.
The first time it happened was an accident - knuckle-deep in you when he’d hit that one spot just a bit too hard. Watching in awe as you soaked his fingers in your juices, so sloppy and dripping all the way down his wrist.
An accident. A sinful, dangerously convenient accident. One that had poked such a carnal, primitive part of Choso awake. One that had you here - legs spread so shamefully open, grip tight on your hips, bruising as he fucks you from behind.
“Cho-” you mewl, tears soaking into your pillow. “I don’ think m’gonna ngh- squirt.”
“No.” he moans, sounding as if his sanity was dancing away from him with each time his twitching balls smacked your ass. So heavy and just aching to cum - but not yet. No, he had more important things to do. “No no no- Fuck- need this so bad- you don’t understand, baby.”
And oh with the desperation of a madman, Choso’s snaking a hand down to toy with your swollen clit. Flashes of white behind your eyes each time he draws quick, maddening little circles on it.
“But-”
Faster. Sloppier. Not even circles because Choso thinks he might just go insane if you don’t cum now, all over his fingers and his cock and-
Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you before you’re cumming all over Choso’s fingers. It barely even feels like it, just a few exhausted tingles that have your vision spotty, tears clinging to your lashes at the pure overstimulation.
And the haze has barely even cleared up before Choso’s moving again, as if on instinct. No rhyme or reason. So messy with the way he was squeezing his cock into your tight pussy in mindless, sloppy grinds like he couldn’t take it anymore - and he probably couldn’t.
“O-one more.” he groans like a mantra. Slamming his hips hard enough that it would leave marks for tomorrow - his hip on your ass, fingers on your waist. “Jus’ one more- fuck fuck need this need this-”
You just wished you had the energy to turn around and catch whether Choso looked as fucked-out as he sounded. Low moans turning into broken whines like he was begging you. Begging himself.
Abs rubbing against yours, crushing you with his weight while he tried to milk that last, sweet orgasm out of you. Running only on the thought that this next one would hopefully have him soaked with your sweet sweet juices, dripping off of him.
“Ngh- baby, do it f’me.” Choso’s babbling in your ear, dark hair tickling your neck. Hoarse little grunts leaving him each time he hit that plushy spot inside you, sending stars behind your eyes. “C’mon I want it. Need it so bad. Fuck fuck fuck-”
“But I don’t know if I can-” that little doubt makes its way out of you, in a soft delirious whine that has Choso twitching so ferally inside you. Close, he was so close. Too close - this had to be the one.
“You- ah- can, baby.” he latches onto the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Fingers frenzied on your ravaged clit now, matching the time of his hips as he thrusts once. Twice. “You will.”
And you weren’t even sure if your last orgasm had bated before the next one was crashing in. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks, at the same time your quivering pussy soaks Choso - all of him. Over and over-
Unstopping even when he’s shuddering to a halt, painting your poor pussy white with his cum, forming such a sinful pool on the sheets as you cum and cum and-
And Choso can’t even bring himself to be disgusted - because it doesn’t feel real. He’s here, pure electricity thrumming through his veins, your walls milking him so deliciously good, and just glistening and covered in your sweet juices. It’s all he’s ever wanted.
Well, for now. Because look at you, exhausted, thighs still shaking with the intensity of your orgasm - so fucking gorgeous - a mean little part of Choso can’t help but think -
What if he could make you squirt twice?
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - To taste, to command
“This what you want, brat?” he grins, grinding his angry, clothed erection on your pussy. Teasing. Torturous. “Wan’ to be split apart on m’cock, huh?”
Now, usually Sukuna would punish you a little more at that delirious little nod you give him - tell you to use your words like a good girl. But right now - shit, he’d never admit it - he’s been dying to get a lil’ taste of your cunt.
Pushing your legs further upwards, bending you in half all the way till your knees reach your tits. Mouth just watering at the way your pretty cunt was all glistening and clenching around nothing for him. At the idea of you crying on his tongue like you’re his favorite meal and-
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Master, we have guests. Curses from the far North seeking court.”
Ah, shit. Just when he was getting to the good part. Though, one look at you - and that adorable little pout - has Sukuna wondering - why does he need to stop?
Your head absolutely spins with the fact that Uraume was standing right outside, and Sukuna was still lowering himself back down till he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt.
“Speak.” he hums, glossy lips latching around your swollen clit and it takes everything in you to not just scream. “I’ve got my mouth full.”
It’s the only thing said before Sukuna’s making out so sloppily with your pussy. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, no care in the world for whether or not anyone outside would hear the lewd little squelches come from down there.
You, however, have your thighs squeezing uselessly together, half-hearted protests spilling from your lips about “they’ll know!”
Only to get a muffled, “Who cares?” as he dips his tongue into your messy hole.
Sukuna didn’t exactly expect you to be able to form a coherent sentence - not with the way you were sprawled so shamelessly on his bed, with him nose-deep in your pretty pussy and only probing deeper.
But, ah, you always did surprise him - because somehow you manage to blink away those big fat tears in your eyes, hips stuttering as you let out a breathy, “U-um, Kuna isn’t here right now.”
His cock twitches so dangerously at the words spilling from your lips - knowing exactly how to push his buttons just right. He hears Uraume shuffle outside, clearly sensing the traces of his cursed energy - heh, what fun.
“Do you know when…’Kuna’ will be back?”
God, your little nickname sounds so funny on their tongue that Sukuna’s huffing out a little chuckle into your cunt. The vibrations making you jolt and squeeze so sinfully around him. “Shhh, brat.” he cuts off your whine, “M’ ‘not here’, remember?”
With a half-hearted glare you’re pushing the great Sukuna’s head deeper into your sloppy pussy - mainly because you wanted more, but partly because you really needed him to be quiet right about now. And he takes it in stride, lapping up at your sweet juices.
“He- uh-” you’re cut off with him bullying his tongue inside your sopping entrance. Stretching you out. Circling the ring of muscle.
Urame sounded rightfully impatient now, “Yes, my liege?”
“He’ll be back later.” you choke out, face flushed at the way you were acting so pathetic and Sukuna was only smirking smugly into your folds. So blissed out as he rolled your clit between two fingers. “Very later. I’ll ah- let you…know.”
And honestly you don’t even hear Uraume’s quick “thank you” - or whether they even manage to make it far enough to miss the sharp yelp of Sukuna’s name as he doubles down on his efforts.
He knew exactly what you needed. What you craved. Tongue pushing against all the right spots so harshly over and over- Having you choking and sputtering out nonsensical little praises that you’d be absolutely mortified if anyone else heard.
“Kuna-” you gasp breathlessly, hips bucking up for more more more- “Been s’good for you so- ngh- can I cum? Please?”
Hell, if everyone was this trash at his feet begged like this then Sukuna might just be able to call himself a merciful ruler.
Well, not merciful enough to give you what you’ve wanted for so along, apparently. Because immediately, Sukuna’s pulling away, flashing you such a devilish grin. “Buckle up, brat. Because I haven’t cum yet.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Tied up n’ gorgeous
Of course, the great Gojo Satoru has a whole box full of overpriced blindfolds. Ones a bit silkier than normal, a bit softer on the skin - not for wearing outside, no. Ones that were for times like this.
“Sweetheart, fuck- y’look so gorgeous like this.” he groans, kissing down the thin fabric tying you to the wooden bedpost. Down, down, down until he’s pushing his face in-between the valley of your breasts. “Almost makes me wan’ forgive you for being all mouthy earlier.”
Ah, there was that too - when you were extra sassy with him today, making a few too many comments about how dumb that blindfold looked. Like you just wanted this to happen. And it took only one too many defiant comments until he had you bound to the bed, pretty cunt sucking him up so eagerly. So needy for him.
“Ugh, m’sorry, Toru.” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently at him, breath hitching at the way his throbbing cock twitches painfully inside you at that. So easy. “Can you untie me. Please?”
“Hmmm lemme think.” Gojo looks down at you, a dangerous little smile curling his lips. “Nope.” And as if to further prove his point, he lets frustration out through you - stuffing himself into your sloppy pussy as far as it would go.
Biting his lip at how pretty you were all breathless, pussy bulging so obscenely around him that it was so fucking hard to look too. Too sinful.
“But-” you whine, “I thought-”
“What that I’d be nice?” your loving boyfriend finishes your sentence for you. And oh his voice had that familiar tone of amusement but his eyes had anything but. Dark and half-lidded, some dangerously smug satisfaction sparking in the as he fucks his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts. “Ya thought wrong, sweetheart~”
So high off the sight of you all cockdrunk and trapped - nowhere to run or hide. Though, you think you’d wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here.
Feeling so debauched and downright filthy. Groaning at the feeble ring of resistance as he pushes relentlessly.
And you need to spread your legs maybe - breathe - or just claw at Gojo’s back for his fucking massive cock and for showing you no mercy. But you couldn’t, not with his godforsaken blindfolds tied around your wrists, so fucking tight no matter how much you tug.
“Shit shit shit- fuck these ties.” you gasp, thighs and arms both aching as he uses you as he pleases. Body torn between shying away because the stimulation was too fucking much, and just bucking your hips wildly for more. “And fuck you, Toru.”
“Fuck me? Me?” Gojo has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh. Fingers moving down to toy with your pretty clit, pinching and rolling between his deft fingers in order to shut you up. “Real funny, sweetheart.”
God he almost considers going easy on you at your barely-lucid little squeals. Heavenly pussy squeezing him tighter than ever despite your little act.
And you know it too - how your facade is crumbling bit by bit. How you’re reeling from both his merciless cadence and the way he was talking to you in such a mean little tone.
Heart thumping as he swiftly reaches over - hips still unstopping - to grab another blindfold and oh-
“Funny enough that-” Gojo loops the blindfold around your neck, right over your racing pulse. Just lose enough that you can breathe, but tight enough that you’ll have such embarrassing marks to explain tomorrow. “I want to fucking ruin you, my girl.”
“Fuck- yeah- m’sorry, Wan’ it so much. Wan’ you to-”
At this point, you’re cockdrunk and delirious enough that you barely even realize when he’s tightening the blindfolds at your neck. Choking and stuttering at maybe his grip- maybe the way it felt like he was pushing into your lungs.
Gasping into your open mouth. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck yeah?‘ Teeth tugging at the delicate fabric around your neck, catching on skin. Dangerous. Hips burning now as he licks away at the big, fat tears streaming down your cheek. “Then cum f’me, sweetheart.”
Hard. Violent.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears as you cum harder than you think you ever have.
And oh, it’s so adorable how you try to pull off the blindfolds, scrambling to grab onto Gojo for some- any semblance of sanity as you lay there, breathless and shaking.
Cunt clenching so intoxicatingly around him that Gojo really can’t help but fill you up with his hot seed. Thick and so filthy. He’s got you in an iron-hold grip, hips moving in unstable, animalistic little movements from such a carnal part of himself.
Gojo planned to tease you a little longer, but, oh well - might as well just paint your pretty pussy white, right? Might as well fuck his cum deeper and deeper and-
“Hey, sweetheart, can you shittalk my blindfold again? I wanna have more angry sex.”
A/N. Uraume definitely knew.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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━━ ❝ sweet, sticky, thick, and pretty ❞
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : toji wants to give you another baby
☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : this is a post from my old blog but i revamped it and i really wanted to share this again because i was really proud of it. and yes, it's another breeding kink + pregnant kink. consider it a part two, since it takes place after megumi is born
toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you.
yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things.
it starts off with how he sees you coo over megumi, calling him your sweet baby. you're such a good mother, too, it's clear you'd likely be the favorite parent to that little brat.
but god, does he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid that he gave you.
the day you ask megumi what he wants for his upcoming 4th birthday at dinner, neither one of you is prepared for the words that come out of your son's mouth.
“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly as he chews on the steamed carrots, looking at you and toji. it was clear from how confident the little guy is that he's put a lot of thought into this.
“but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.”
little brat.
you straight up choke, trying to stop the laugh-coughs as toji looks at his son, offended. this really is his son, because who else but you and the kid he made with you could have the nerve to say shit like that to him?
“twerp, you look just like me, you realize that, right?”
megumi huffs, looking at his dad in the cutest little glare. “that’s 'cause i'm a boy, though," he explains as if it's obvious, his precious little cheeks puffed up as he stuffs more of his food in his mouth.
"my sister has to be like mommy. you’d be an ugly girl, daddy.”
toji just rolls his eyes, pinching the cheeks of the mini him, ignoring his protests. as the two bicker, you think. would it...really be that bad to have another baby? you always wanted a girl, after all, and toji took such good care of you and megumi...it couldn't be that bad.
“well, uhm,” you begin, catching the attention of toji, an unfamiliar smile on your face.
there's a mischievous look on your face right now, his eyes narrowing as he waits for your response. whatever you're about to say is either going to haunt him for the next few days or make him roll his eyes at you.
“i'm sure daddy and i can work something out for you, 'gumi, but let’s think of some other things, too, m'kay?”
ah.
you went the haunting route.
ignoring the little cheer his son let out, toji can't hide the disbelieving look that crosses his face when he processes what you just said.
'daddy'?
you've said the word, sure, usually when you talk to megumi about him. but something was different about how you said it, the way you looked at him when you said it, the barely visible flutter of your eyes...a silent promise there'd definitely be a deeper conversation about it later.
the very day megumi has a sleepover with the neighbor's kid, yuuji, toji is mentally cheering. he loves his son with all his heart, he truly does, but having a toddler in bed meant limited contact with his pretty wife.
it's only been 3 days since that little comment you made and it's been on toji's mind constantly. every time he tried to bring it up with you, megumi would interrupt and toji was not being the reason his son ended up traumatized because he overheard mommy and daddy talking about making babies in the kitchen.
"bye, gumi! make sure you behave for mr. nanami, okay? have fun with yuuji," you coo as you press two kisses to your son's cheeks, snapping toji back to the present.
"see ya, kid, be good," toji says, giving a nod of acknowledgement to nanami. megumi barely says goodbye before he runs after yuuji to the car, his run a bit awkward because of his overnight backpack.
waving goodbye to nanami, you shut the door, turning to look at toji with that smile as you.
"hi, toj."
you think you're so cute, don't you?
"hey, mama."
toji can't even lie, you are. wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants? yeah, your the cutest thing he's ever laid eyes one. his hands rest on your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. fuck, you weren't even doing anything but he could already feel himself getting hard just from looking at you.
he's never been so whipped in his life.
"d'you wanna talk," you murmur lowly, your finger running over the thin silver chain on his neck. "we could go to the bedroom...and talk about the baby thing."
toji's eyes darken at the suggestion, knowing exactly what would happen the moment you both go into the bedroom. "yeah. think it's 'bout time we talked about it," he hums as he grips your wrist, tugging you to your room.
as soon you both step foot into the bedroom, toji hungrily presses your lips against his, letting out a deep groan. "had me thinkin' about knockin' you up again all fuckin' week, mama," toji sighs against your lips, tongue running over your lower lip.
"wanted to stuff you full so fucking bad."
feeling you sigh so prettily into the kiss, his doesn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth, hands busying themselves as they push your (his) sweats down off your hips before guiding you back to the bed.
you knew he would get excited over your comment, but you didn't think it would be to the point where he was rutting into you as he practically devoured you, feeling your back hit the bed.
“you want to give our 'gumi a sister? wanna be a mommy again," he questions, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. one of his hands slithers up under the oversized t-shirt to cup one of your tits and roughly knead it, his thumb just barely grazing over your nipple.
"wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?"
you just hum a little breathless. your hand comes up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. he's so handsome when he's over you like this, his chain dangling right in your face.
“maaaaybe. megumi just made me think about it, 's all. you've been a good dad t' him, how could i not want to give you another one,” you coo, guiding him closer so you can press a kiss against the scar on his lip.
“besides…”
toji grunts when he feels your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against you so you can feel the thick, heaviness of his arousal through his sweatpants.
“don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.”
after those words leave your pretty little mouth, toji is on you as he realizes that you're 100% going to give him the worse breeding kink ever.
"'m gonna fuckin' ruin you," he growls into your ear. you aren't given a second to protest before he's ripped your panties off, complaints falling on deaf ears. the tips of his fingers gently run over your puffy pussy lips, your slick wetness coating his fingers.
"fuck, mama, you're soaked already." his eyes are focused on your face as you squirm and whimper when he swirls little circles into your clit, an evil smirk on his face. "can't wait to fill you up 'til you're dripping with my cum, doll."
you can't stop your hips from trying to grind into his hand, eyes rolling back when he teased your entrance. "toji, c'mon, baby, i need you s'bad."
"baby, you know you can't take me without prep," he coos at you. he can feel how hot and slick you are, finally, finally slipping two of his fingers inside your cunt. and oh, the way you arch your back a little bit with a pleading whine of his name is so, so pretty, you're so fucking cute.
"mmn, maybe y'don't need prep, you just sucked my fingers right in," he says huskily before pressing a little kiss to the corner of your mouth. "you wanna try, mama? wanna see if you can fit my cock in you? really gonna feel that stretch, though, babe," toji warns, knowing you can't give a sensible answer when he starts pumping his fingers in and out.
when it seems like your about to answer him, the only thing that escapes your mouth is a shaky moan, his thick fingers curling to hit just the right spot inside of you that has you gushing. unable to form words, you tug on his shirt and nod frantically, just wanting to feel toji stuffing you full.
"yeah? you wanna try?" toiji pulls his fingers out of you, chuckling when you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. he pops his fingers in his mouth, cock throbbing at the addictive taste of your cunt on his tongue. "c'mon, we're both wearing too much, let's get you outta that shirt, ma."
you waste no time throwing the shirt off, not even giving him the chance to undress you. but once your shirt is off, you're practically ripping off his stupid black t-shirt that made his pecs look fucking delicious and those damn sweatpants and boxers that hid your prize.
as you fuss over his boxers, toji takes a moment to look at you spread out on the bed before him. you still had a bit of chub on you, tummy nice and soft and cute, just how he likes it. if he knew where his phone was, he'd take a picture of you right now; frustrated, horny, naked, and pretty. all for him.
"tojiiii, stop staring and kick off your stupid boxers, you're getting on my nerves!"
you can't even look him in the eye as you say that because you're too busy staring right at his cock, a thick bead of precum formed at the tip. the lick of your lips told him everything he needed to know, but he wasn't fucking your mouth, not tonight at least.
"what? i can't look at my own wife," he asks with a raised eyebrow, biting back a laugh when you swat at his hand that pinches one your puffy nipple. "tch, so rude, doll."
before you can snap back at him, he brushes the swollen head of his cock against your slick folds, smearing your wet over the tip. that shuts you up quickly and toji has to hold back another laugh. always so fussy until he finally gives you what you want. he's spoiled you rotten.
"toji," comes a soft whine, so soft he nearly misses it. your eyes are focused between your legs, lower lips between your teeth as he teases you with his cockhead. you huff, pushing your hand against his chest to give you enough space to shift positions, knowing exactly what would get him to stop teasing you.
once you roll over, you shift so that you're face down, ass up, you hand slipping between your thighs to spread your sticky pussy open, slick dripping down your fingers. "tojiiii, please? please, baby, stop teasing an' put a baby in me...please, hubby, give your wife what she wants."
any other whines or begs are interrupted when his hand comes down hard on your ass. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick.
when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet, each inch sinking into you stretching those tight walls just a bit more.
"holy shit...fuuck me, baby, too fucking tight, you're strangling my cock," he hisses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he gave you inch after inch.
god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it's fucking with his head, his wife was gonna be the death of him.
both of you moan once he's all the way inside. you feel so full, his cock is too fucking big it doesn't make any sense and you genuinely think you should've let him fully prep you...but shifting your hips just a little bit has his tip pressing against something sinful. you whine and reach back to grab at one of his hands on your waist, turning to shoot him a mean glare as you demand, “stop stalling n’ knock me up, toji."
who is he to deny what his wife asks?
using a hand to steady himself on the headboard, his hips begin to move slowly, pulling out just an inch and pushing forward again. "so tight 'n' warm..." each thrust hits deeper and more powerful than the last as toji begins to pick up speed, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you.
it's almost too much, but you don't want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth.
“shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ.”
now you really wish you stayed on your back, then at least you could've slapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up. you drop your head down against the mattress with a moan, starting to move your hips to match his thrusts, the room filling with the sound of skin slapping on skin.
“fuuck, c'mon, throw that ass back on me, thaaaat’s it, good girl.”
he starts pounding into you harder when he feels you tightening up on him. the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushing him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full.
he coos when he sees you starting to scramble up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes.
"tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it," he coos at you, following you up the mattress.
you never change, always swearing up and down that you wouldn't run from his cock, that you'd be able to take him. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”
toji may sound like he’s still put together, but he’s just thankful you can’t see his face since yours is pressed into the pillows at the top of the bed.
you can’t see how he’s barely holding himself together, trying his hardest not to let himself go too much. the last thing he needs is to cum before you, knowing that while you wouldn’t mind, he’d be annoyed for breaking his streak.
he’s brought back into the present when you manage to turn your head a little, able to look him in the eye, and god, does he love what he sees.
your mouth is open as you moan for him, eyes lidded and focused on only him. he sees the little tears gathered in them, not quite spilling over but the fact that they’re there tells him he’s the one making you feel that good.
“tuh-toji, ’m gonna cum, gonna cum—!”
"yeah?" hearing you moan so sweetly for him only makes toji smirk, fingers digging into your hips as he helps you meet each thrust. “gonna make a mess f'me already? poor little cunt can't handle gettin' fucked so good? mmn, shit, 's okay, baby. let go for me, mama, cum on daddy’s cock.”
"t-tojiiiii," you shakily moan, nearly ripping the sheets as you cum suddenly. it was his voice, the way he tried to sound put together but you could hear how desperate he was to feel your pussy clamp down on him and get his cock nice and messy.
toji's deep, guttural moans mix with your cries when he unexpected is pushed over the edge, the way you desperately grinded back against him causing him to swear under his breath as he lost his pace, groaning your name as he emptied into you. it felt so hot, the pulsating warmth of his tip nudging against your cervix paired with his thick cum filling you up dizzying the both of you.
you expect some kind of snarky comment from toji, trying to catch your breath so you could reply when he said it. but nothing comes (you have to stop yourself from laughing at the pun). you turn to look back, sighing when toji pulls out of you. usually he stayed inside, leaning down to tease you for cumming so fast...but he didn't.
something was wrong and for some reason, you felt like your pussy was in danger.
“toj…?”
he didn’t answer. he probably didn’t even hear you, not with the way he was looking so intensely at the mess between your thighs. the mess he made. toji doesn’t know what comes over him, his hands practically moving on their own as he moves you over onto your back, then moving his hands down to your sensitive hole and spreading.
the scene in front of him just breaks him. you let out a soft whine, hips gently rolling into his hands. his eyes stay stuck between your legs—sharp and focused—as they watch the thick globs of his hot cum drip out of your hole and down onto the bed sheets.
the groan that leaves him is sinful, and once you make eye contact with him, you realize how fucked you are. he’s hard again, almost making you believe he didn’t cum if it weren’t for the creamy sheen of his cum on his throbbing dick and the hotness of his dripping out of you. before you know it, toji’s climbing over you, making sure your legs get pushed over to his shoulders as he pushes you into a mating press.
yeah.
you're fucked.
you keep making eye contact, and now that he’s so close to you, you see how crazed he looks. his eyes, completely black due to his blown pupils, have an unhinged look in them, and the half smirk on his face only makes you worry about your ability to walk the next day.
“t-toji, if you need a break to calm down, then-oh!”
he shuts you up by pushing himself inside you, loving how your eyes cross so prettily. he has you now, you can't run away from the overstimulating feeling of him fucking you in this position. and when you feel his hands come up and lock together on your head to really keep you in place, you feel yourself gush all over his cock at the simple display of how strong he was compared to you.
you're so fucked.
all you can do is moan and cry out his name, hands grabbing whatever part of him they could reach. but he doesn't let you break eye contact, keeping you close to his face so he could see every little expression. and fuck, does he like what he sees.
“t-tojiii, t’ deep, t’ deep!”
“wan’ me t’ stop? t’ stop fuckin’ this messy hole?”
“fuck, y-you stop, and I’ll c-choke the shit out of yo-ouh!”
“that’s it, take it, take daddy’s cock, mama, lemme breed you.”
everything about this position is driving both of you crazy.
the closeness has you reeling, the way toji just cannot bring himself to break eye contact, needing to see what he was doing to you.
his thick cock is hitting deep, almost too deep, with the way each thrust of his hips causes the tip to press into the sweet spot inside you every. single. time.
he has you for the whole day and the whole night, he's going to make sure you're stuffed entirely and doesn't plan on stopping until either you tell him you need a break or until he can't cum anymore. and even then, he doesn't think anything will be able to get him out of your cunt.
but with the way he just moaned into your mouth, thick spurts of more cum coating your insides…and the way he didn’t get soft, instead pressing you even deeper into the mattress as he began to pound into you with a groan of how much he loved your pussy…
you were sure it would be a while until he was done with you.
all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushigro x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#🔪 ── toji.#𖤐 ── lxnarworks.
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Left her behind
Lucifer x Angel Wife Reader
Synopsis: Lucifer left you behind to rule hell and have lilith so you were behind cleaning up your broken piece
Your wings were bigger than your body but your heart was bigger than your wings. You were an archangel helping your god important plans for mankind. Your husband Lucifer was a Seraphim and you always wonder how you two ever gotten married.
An Archangel and a Seraphim what an unexpected pair, isn’t it?
As you were talking to a human Adam about what god had told you to tell him. A bad feeling was upon you as you excused yourself to go back to heaven to find your husband.
An hour had gone by and you still couldn’t find him til you saw Lilith and you husband kissing. You were shocked and upset until god touched your shoulder ushering back into heaven saying he’ll handle it. Of course you couldn’t question someone you absolutely trust so you flew up with tears hurriedly to go find Gabriel and Michael.
That’s when you found out your husband has been banished with everyone else who betrayed God and heaven.
They were sent to hell as Lucifer as the leader of it and Lilith as queen. You sobbed so loudly make Gabriel hushed you quietly as he sway you left and right to get you to calm yourself.
Michael came back in with some ice cream with a sad smile. “Let forget about your ex husband my little Beauty” And you agreed. That was centuries ago and during that time you found out Lucifer had a daughter which made you completely forget about him focusing about your home more importantly.
Today was your birthday and you had to go to a meeting about the extermination in hell.
Back in hell after getting a meeting to heaven he told his daughter an important story.
“Over a century ago there was these two angels one in a lower class and another in a higher class they loved each nonetheless. Married in heaven but soon the married man became regrettably enchanted with a human bringing her with him to his chaos but leaving his heart where heaven was at” Lucifer explained
“Y-You left your real wife, dad?” She asked him shock and sadness looking at the sky.
“Sadly so, she was supposed to be your mom” He chuckled as tears slipped out his eyes. The amount of times he goes over to see you but you never reciprocate breaks his heart.
He still wears his gold wedding ring from the day he married you and he can never forget that day.
“Don’t worry charlie i’ll win her back no matter the cost and I’ll bring her here to hell for her to rule with me” He reassured her with determination. They both look up to the sky to see a rare white star down at hell.
Alternative ending
Regular ending
#lucifer imagine#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you
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GOJO SATORU: IT'S YOU AND ME, THAT'S MY WHOLE WORLD
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: one kiss turns into two, and before you know it, an innocent gaming session turns into something more. (streamer!au)
contents: fem!reader. suggestive (kissing/making out). the ending can be interpreted as sex. non-sexual usage/mentions of lollipops bc i have a sweet tooth and i want a lollipop rn. i didn't really spend a lot of time on this one, but i thought i'd post it anyways. whatever, your favorite streamer boyfriend is back! did you miss him? (the answer is yes). -1K words.
"you're not that good, are you?" you ask with a grin, twirling a lollipop in between your fingers. in front of you, satoru's avatar gets shot down by a couple others for what seems like the hundredth time, and right on cue, satoru curses his bad luck. "you know, maybe you'd be better if you were actually focusing on the game."
"it's not my fault," satoru insists petulantly, a childish pout appearing on his face. he sticks out his bottom lip and rests his chin on top of your head. "how am i supposed to be able to focus with you in my lap?"
you stick your lollipop in your mouth and shrug, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you hum indifferently. "sounds like you're just making excuses..."
"oh?"
satoru pinches your cheek teasingly with the hand not resting on top of his mouse, fingers skating from the side of your face to your lips as he tugs out the lollipop. he ignores your halfhearted protests and pops it into his mouth, smiling cheekily as he does so. in the darkening computer screen in front of you, you can see your boyfriend's smug expression, which smirks back at you. "mmm, this flavor's good. what is it?"
"strawberry, i think," you reply instinctually. satoru shakes his head in response, taking the candy out of his mouth and twirling the stick in between his thumb and index finger before he corrects you.
"actually, i think it's you i'm tasting," he quips, clicking around with his mouse for a second before he opens up the photo app. your reflection gazes back at the two of you in satoru's comfortably large gaming chair.
"no wonder you have no game," you deadpan, looking away from the mirror image of you and satoru and towards the ceiling.
"baby, you're literally sitting in my lap right now."
"yes, and?"
satoru's laugh is clear and blue, like a sunlit sky in the middle of june. it almost feels like he hasn't been able to stop smiling around you ever since "the incident," and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.
he sticks the lollipop in between your lips and stops you from verbally bashing him any more than you already have. the sweet, tangy taste is a welcome sensation in your mouth, and satoru can't help but smile endearingly when your reflection looks at him with round eyes. "you're so cute," he mumbles, punctuating each word with a kiss to the top of your head.
a soft giggle slips out of your lips in response. "shut up." even as you say that, you already know his answer. if there was one bet you'd make without a doubt, it'd be that satoru can never seem to shut up whenever you're in his line of sight.
satoru's hands find themselves on your waist, and they turn you around so you're facing him. there's a different (but not unpleasant) look in his eyes as he gazes at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"what is it?" you ask curiously, noticing the subtle change in his expression. his eyes soften from what looked like a teasing glance to an almost longing stare.
"nothing," he hums, kissing you in between your eyes. "you're just pretty."
satoru's hands thread themselves through your hair, lightly touching the back of your neck as his lips move down to brush against yours. you extract the lollipop from between your lips and tilt your chin up, kissing satoru with a little smile. like always, he tastes like sweetened peppermints, even though you've never seen him eat one before. you'll have to ask about that later, but for now, all you can focus on is the way satoru gently nips at your bottom lip as if he's asking for attention.
you hum softly, opening your eyes and squinting at satoru, who can't help but smile against your lips. "you taste like strawberries," he mumbles, peppering butterfly kisses on the corner of your mouth in between words. "so sweet..."
you exhale faintly, not wanting to pull away from his peppermint-scented lips, and let your eyes flutter closed again. something about the way satoru's hands rest delicately on your waist makes you feel more comfortable than you've been in a while. maybe it's just the hoodie satoru had forced on you earlier when he saw you were shivering, or maybe it's the steady beat of satoru's heart that's almost therapeutic against your chest; whatever the case, you can't remember the last time you've been this at ease.
between his complicated streaming schedule and your busy life, moments like these are rarer than you'd like, but that only makes them all the more special.
five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by in silence, with the only sound being the soft murmurs shared between you and satoru. his lips fit over yours like two pieces of a puzzle, and the way you fit in between his arms almost feels too good to be true. but thanks to the slender hand that slips underneath the waistband of your shorts and the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt, you know only too well that this is real; and hopefully, it always will be.
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles
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PERIOD PAIN HEALER !!
PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x f!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x f!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x f!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x f!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x f!reader [seperate]
SYNOPSIS It's understandable that the month's arrival brings with it a series of unpleasant sensations and discomfort that nobody enjoys experiencing. However, things aren't so unpleasant when you have someone to support you through this time, such as your caring stepdad, who is more than willing to assist you in any way possible..
WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, nipple sucking & playing, orgasm through nipple playing, bloody pussy eating, use of four arms for pleasure (sukuna), cock warming, p in bloody v, fingering, use of bad nicknames (geto), clit rubbing, soft sex, clit rubbing with cock
NOTE In my experience, having an orgasm during your period reduces cramps. I wrote it while on my periods lol. I'm just a girl (with daddy issues) ... Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh). Reposting cause tumblr removed it.
◈ SATORU GOJO
Gojo's eyes widen as he catches the sight of you clad in one of his oversized T-shirts, your small frame barely managing to contain its folds. You look like a lost little rabbit, shivering slightly, bouncing on your toes as you pace nervously near the bathroom door.
"Hey, hey," Gojo murmurs, brows furrowing as he takes in the sight before stepping closer. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, coaxing you to meet his gaze. "What's goin' on, sweetheart?"
His voice is soft, comforting - a stark contrast to his usual cockiness. You look up at him, your eyes filled with uncertainty, and he feels a pang in his chest. Something's clearly off, and he knows he needs to get to the bottom of it.
"Are you alright?" he presses gently, concern coloring his voice as he reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gentle pressure of his fingers seems to calm you somewhat, and you nod, averting your gaze.
"Yes...", you mumble, but it sounds more like an excuse than the truth.
He tilts your chin upward, "Don't lie to daddy," he whispers softly, searching your eyes for any hint of distress. There's a tenderness in his voice that surprises you both - unusual for the usually arrogant man. Swallowing hard, he adds, "Tell me what's wrong."
Despite yourself, you find yourself opening up, the words spilling forth: "It's just... uh... cramps, and I feel uneasy."
He kneels on his knees, lifting up your top and leaning in to kiss your vulnerable tummy before softly massaging the area. The touch is firm yet soothing, causing you to relax slightly despite the lingering pain.
"That's better, isn't it?" he remarks, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice. You nod syly not breaking eye contact with him. Gojo's expression softens, and he pulls you into a warm embrace. "Ah, I see.. That feels good.. ," he says, rubbing your back soothingly. "Don't worry about it. Let's take care of you, okay?"
As he gently leads you to your room, Gojo's mind races with ways he can help ease your discomfort. He doesn't want you to suffer, not when he could do something about it.
Once settled on the soft cushions, he slowly slides his hands up and down your abdomen, his other hand cupping one of your breast gently in his large palms. You gasp slightly at the sensation, the nipple tingling under his skilled touch. Gently, he rolls it between his thumbs and forefingers, eliciting a moan from deep within you. This causes him to smirk devilishly and lean in closer.
His warm breath caresses your chest as he whispers, "They hurt too, don't they?"
"Y-yes, a bit," you confess shyly.
His smile broadens, and without further ado, he bends his head down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you as he sucks lightly, increasing the pressure gradually, making you squirm involuntarily. His other hand moves from your abdomen to massage the other breast, his thumb occasionally flicking against the engorged nub.
The sensation is uncomfortable and pleasurable simultaneously, bringing forth an array of mixed feelings within you. He lifts his head briefly, looking into your flushed face with a knowing smile. "This should help alleviate some of the discomfort, my dear. Just let go and enjoy it." He returns to his task, sucking harder on your nipple while tweaking the other, sending waves of sensation cascading through your body.
You can't help but give in to the intense feelings coursing through you, your back arching slightly as he continues his ministrations. Your breathing becomes ragged, and you grip the sheets beneath you, trying to stay grounded in reality.
You find yourself reaching climax unexpectedly, your entire body trembling under his touch. "D-daddy cumming," your lips move to form an involuntary moan, and he looks up, satisfaction written across his features.
He releases your nipple, running his thumb over your mouth before pulling you closer. His voice is velvety smooth as he murmurs, "You came just by me sucking your nipples? Guess you are really sensitive now"
With a satisfied hum, he pulls away, drawing you into his embrace. His arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest. "There you go," he mutters, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you lean into him. The rhythmic motion quickly lulls you into a sense of comfort, easing the last of your tension.
"Feeling good now?" he asks his crystalline blue eyes turning soft only for you. You nod shyly, closing your eyes momentarily, your heartbeat decreasing.
"Get some rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, the discomfort will be gone. I'll make sure to stock up on those chocolate candies you love, kikufuku or something similar. That should help cheer you up, yeah?" He speaks into your hair, his voice low and soothing. "And remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."
Slowly, your eyelids grow heavy, and soon enough, sleep claims you. In his arms, you drift off to dreamland, cradled by his warmth and strength. He watches over you until you're peacefully asleep, then rises from the bed with a content smile, leaving you undisturbed.
◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO
As the pangs begin, you find yourself in agony, groaning softly and clutching your lower abdomen tightly, the whole day you are in your room, you even missed dinner. Suddenly, you hear footsteps to your room, you look up to see your stepdad, Toji, walking into your room with a concerned expression on his face. "What's wrong? Tired of being a brat?" he asks, moving closer to you.
"My period started," you mumble, unable to hide the pain from your voice. "It's so sudden and painful."
Toji, raises an eyebrow in surprise before responding gruffly, "Why do ya always whine about these little things? It happens to everyone! Get over it!" He waves dismissively, leaving you feeling hurt and ignored. Your heart sinks as tears start to form in your eyes, "Don't cry now, I swear I can't tolerate ya's mood swings during these days," he observes you closely for a moment, noticing the genuine distress in your eyes.
After witnessing your pain and tears, Toji's cold exterior crumbles slightly, replaced by tenderness and guilt. Though he is annoyed by how weak and whiny you are, he can't bear to watch his little step daughter suffering. Gently, he props onto your bed, the bed jumping slightly with his weight, as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He starts to rub your stomach in soft, slow circles, attempting to alleviate some of the pain.
"Sorry," his voice husky with regret, "I didn't mean to be harsh. Let me make it up to you." His hand gradually moves from your stomach to your neck, his thumb gently tracing circles on your tender skin. The sensation mixes with the pressure of his touch, bringing a sense of comfort and relaxation that slowly takes over your body.
"Just close your eyes and rest," he whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you." As if in a trance, you obey his instructions, allowing his words and touch to lull you into a state of calmness. His hands continue their gentle rhythm, kneading your stomach and caressing your neck, his lips occasionally brushing softly against your cheek.
As you drift off to sleep in Toji's caring embrace, you find solace in his presence and the gentle caresses that soothe your body. The tension in your muscles slowly dissipates, and eventually, exhaustion claims you. Time passes unnoticed as you both rest, your breathing deepening and evening out into peaceful slumber.
However, as night falls, your cramps return with a vengeance, waking you up from your peaceful slumber with a gasp. You wriggle uncomfortably, your hands instinctively clutching your stomach as pain courses through you. Your eyes flutter open to find Toji also awake, concern etched upon his features. He watches you intently, his own face contorted with worry as he observes your discomfort.
He repeats this motion multiple times, his tongue tracing intricate patterns across your sensitive skin, each movement accompanied by soft, reassuring whispers. His hands reach for yours, pulling them away gently from your stomach. "Shh, don't worry," he murmurs, concern evident in his voice. "I know it hurts, but we don't have any heating pads or medication here. What if I try something else?" He looks at you expectantly, a glint of determination in his eyes.
You nod hesitantly, unsure of what else could possibly help. Slowly, he shifts his position, leaning closer to you. His gaze locks onto your stomach, his expression intense as he focuses on the task at hand. Then, without warning, Toji presses his lips to your stomach, the warmth of his breath sending waves of relief throughout your tense muscles. His tongue darts out, lightly flicking at your skin, causing a shiver to race down your spine. Surprised, you let out a small moan, your body reacting to his unexpected touch.
You get caught off guard by Toji's sudden move, you let out a soft squeak as he swiftly removes your shorts and panties. Embarrassment washes over you, but his determined gaze leaves no room for protest. He glances at your blood-covered pad, a hint of curiosity in his green eyes, as if studying the sight for the first time.
Before you can recover from the shock of his actions, he holds you firmly but gently in place, his hands strong on your hips, pinning you to the bed.
"Please...don't do anything.. It's weird," you stammer, your eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, but there's a hint of desire there too - this wasn't exactly an unwelcome sensation.
"Shhh," he hushes you, his voice rough with desire. "This might help, trust me." And with that, he lowers his head, his mouth approaching your bloody core.
As soon as his mouth touches you, the sensation is overwhelming. The warmth of his lips combined with the wet heat of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His movements are neither tentative nor shy, rather they're hungry and bold, as if he's been waiting for this moment for a long time.
Blood colors his lips and chin as he continues to feast on you. Despite the circumstances, a strange mixture of pleasure and embarrassment fills you.
"It feels so...weird but good," you confess, biting your lip as pleasurable shivers rack your body.
Toji lifts his head, his gaze locked on yours, "Good?" he queries, his voice thick with lust. His eyes reflect a primal satisfaction that overwhelms any semblance of shame or guilt. Your response seems to ignite something within him, and he dives back in with renewed vigor, his tongue delving deeper, his hunger growing stronger. The scent of your blood mingled with your natural arousal fills the air, heightening the intensity of the experience.
With Toji's relentless attention, it doesn't take long for you to reach your climax. Your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. He feels it too, the tremors beneath him signaling your release. His tongue never stops its steady pace, guiding you through the peak of your ecstasy until you finally collapse back onto the bed, panting heavily.
Toji pulls away with a satisfied hum, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. "That should help the cramps," he states, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
But instead of leaving, he crawls up alongside you, pulling you into another tight embrace. "Rest now, kay?," he whispers, nuzzling your neck as he speaks. "We'll deal with anything else tomorrow."
Despite the unusual circumstances, you find comfort in his arms once again. His chest rises and falls steadily next to yours, his heartbeat a calming rhythm that lulls you back into slumber. The night stretches ahead, quiet and peaceful, with nothing but the two of you sharing the same space.
◈ NANAMI KENTO
As the door creaks open, you know right away it's Nanami stepping in. The scent of his cologne wafts towards you, signaling his arrival. You glance up from the couch and look towards the hallway, anticipating his arrival.
"Hey, honey," he greets softly, voice carrying a hint of weariness. "How are you doing?"
You give him a weak smile, trying to hide the pain you feel from your period. "Just dealing with some cramps, dad," you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible. "No big deal."
He nods, offering you a sympathetic look as he walks closer, then removes his jacket & glasses and places his work bag on the coffee table. "Well, let's see if there's anything I can do to help you out," he says, reaching out to gently brush your hair aside.
"Oh, don't worry about me, dad," you assure him quickly, attempting to put on a brave face despite the discomfort. "It's not that bad. But thank you for asking."
Nanami raises an eyebrow at you, studying your expression carefully. "Don't try to lie to me, sweetheart, I can see your toes curling from the pain" he says gently. "I understand how painful these periods can be. Here, come. Let me help you, okay?", he says gesturing you on his lap.
You hesitate for a moment, feeling embarrassed about showing your weakness in front of him. However, Nanami's concern is evident in his eyes and you can't resist the urge to lean into his comforting embrace. As you sit on his lap, he wraps his arms around you tightly, providing you with warmth and support.
"There you go," he murmurs softly, rubbing your back in circular motions. "Do you want some painkillers? Maybe a hot pad? Or anything that will lessen your pain?" he offers.
Your body responds instinctively to his touch, moving closer to him unconsciously. You feel yourself grinding against him slightly and gasp, realizing what you've done. Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but Nanami remains composed.
"Easy now," he says quietly, placing his hand on your hips to steady both of you. "We'll take care of this quickly, okay?"
Feeling guilty for making him hard, you reach for his pants, running your fingers along the outline of his erection through the fabric. It's hard and warm beneath your touch and you pause before slowly stroking it.
"Will you feel good, if it's in you?", he asks; he is genuinely concerned about your well being more than his own.
You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your face once again."Yes, please... I think it would help," you admit shyly.
Nanami looks at you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, then," he says decisively, lifting you up, freeing his member.
Nanami's thumb pushes aside your panties, his other hand positions his shaft at your entrance. He slowly slips into your bloodied cunt, the crimson fluid and your arousal making it easier for him to slide through your gummy walls. You gasp softly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed as he stretches your insides.
For a few moments, neither of you moves; his hands resting firmly on your waist, his breath warm on your neck. Then, your hips begin to buck involuntarily against him, seeking deeper penetration. The combination of pain and pleasure sends shivers down your spine.
Your red fluids seeps into his tan-coloured trousers, making them brown. But that's not his concern now. "That's it," Nanami murmurs approvingly, adjusting his grip on your hip as you move. "Let it out, baby girl. Let everything out."
Slowly, he begins to thrust into you, setting a rhythm that matches your movements. His hands roam across your body, finding your nipples and rubbing them lightly. The pleasure intensifies, culminating in soft moans escaping from your lips.
As Nanami's thrusts become more forceful, so does your breathing. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you and soon enough, you feel the edge of release drawing near.
"Daddy.. A-ah.." You whisper hoarsely, gripping onto him tightly as your orgasm builds up. You're on the verge of losing control, feeling every nerve ending ignite.
A final powerful thrust sends you over the edge, your body trembling and you arching into him. A cry escapes your lips, muffled against his shoulder as you let it all out - all the pent-up frustration, discomfort, and desire colliding together in an intense climax.
Nanami holds you close, riding out your orgasm until the last ripple subsides. Once you're stable, he pulls out his blood-coated shaft slowly, leaving you slightly empty but content.
"There you go," he whispers reassuringly as you leans onto his chest. "That should help ease the cramps."
You lean into him, panting heavily as your mind starts to clear. The tension from the day dissolves away, replaced by a sense of satisfaction.
"Thank you, Daddy," you murmur gratefully, your voice shaky yet sincere.
Nanami smiles gently, kissing your temple. "Anything for my little girl," he promises softly.
◈ GETO SUGURU
Your stepfather, Suguru, has always been distant but kind when necessary, and you knew that he will help you with this matter as well. He takes care of all your needs, giving you various stuffs to help you go through your periods. Despite your gratitude, the fact remains that he despises non-sorcerers.
“You should be grateful I take care of such filth. Monkeys are disgusting creatures", he says while rubbing your back gently.
"Sorry for being a burden..", you reply, your eyes getting teary once again.
His face softens slightly as he continues comforting you, trying to make sure you feel better despite his true thoughts about you,
“Don’t worry about being a burden. It’s my duty to take care of you too, after all. Now focus on feeling better, monkey.”
"S'top being mean...", you speak nuzzling your head against his chest.
Surprised by your sudden reaction, he quickly puts aside his arrogance and focuses entirely on relieving your pain. A smile forms on his lips, albeit reluctantly, as he pats your head gently, secretly enjoying the momentary affection. “I’m not being mean, child. Just stating the truth. But since you asked nicely, I’ll stop for now.”
You relax in his embrace, yet flinch occasionally when cramps pain you. Gently rubbing your lower abdomen in a circular motion, he asks, “Are you okay? This shouldn’t hurt this much.”
As he continues his ministrations, his hands accidentally brush against your clit, causing a shiver to run through your body, you bite your lip trying to stop an incoming moan. Noticing this, he hesitates for a second, but then decides to continue, figuring that it might provide some relief. “Just let me help you here…” he murmurs softly
Cautiously, he reaches down and begins removing your underwear, making sure not to aggravate your delicate area further. Once it's off, he gently massages your exposed bud.
“This should help ease your discomfort,” he whispers reassuringly, his fingers lingering on your most sensitive spots.
"P-please, your hands are getting dirty..", your hands moving to stop his. He chuckles dryly at your protest, his expression darkening slightly as he maintains his touch.
“Believe me, I’ve dealt with far worse than this. Now try to relax, monkey.” with that, he continues stroking you, occasionally brushing against your entrance as well.
You gasp softly, trying to contain your growing arousal. The contradiction between his harsh words and gentle touch creates a strange mix of emotions within you.
“Please, don't call me that," you plead, your voice barely audible.
He stops abruptly, his gaze hardening as he meets yours. “There’s nothing wrong with the truth. Now, monkey focus on breathing and letting go of this pain.”
Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. His eyes lock onto yours, watching your reactions intently as he starts moving them rhythmically.
“This might be uncomfortable at first, but it will help more than you think.”
Despite your embarrassment, the sensation is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. His skilled fingers create waves of pleasure mixed with pain. You squirm beneath his touch, unsure how to react to your conflicting emotions.
He watches your reactions carefully, his eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction. "Good girl. Relax and enjoy it. This will make you feel better."
His rhythmic thrusts start to increase, matching the intensity of your growing arousal. You can't help but moan softly, your body responding to his touch despite your reservations.
"That's right. Let it out," he encourages, his voice lowers into a growl, his eyes narrowing slightly as he feels your walls tighten around his digits.
“Feel free to make noise, monkey. You need this release” The deeper he plunges, the stronger your reactions become. Your breath hitches, and you can't help but wrap your legs around his wrist, pulling him closer.
He grins wickedly, twisting his fingers inside you ever so slightly as he continues thrusting. His fingers dance in a way that brings an unusual sense of ecstasy and discomfort simultaneously.
Despite his choice of words, there’s something strangely comforting about his dominance. You find yourself lost in the sensations, your protests fading away until all that remains is the rhythmic movement of his fingers and the occasional muffled moan escaping your lips.
Ignoring the sight of his fingers coated with your crimson fluid everytime he moves out of you, he intensifies his movements, focusing on your pleasure rather than the messiness. Despite his usual contempt, his interest seems to peak with every drop of blood coating his fingers.
“Such a good girl. Love you sweetheart.. Let it all out.” His deep voice echoes in your ears like a chant, urging you to give in to the sensations. As your climax draws near, his words resonate louder in your mind, guiding you towards the peak.
The orgasm hits you like a wave, overwhelming your senses as he skillfully drives you to the edge. Your body trembles beneath him, your nails digging into whatever they could find purchase in, and you cry out.
His expression turns feral as you reach your high, a hint of triumph glimmering in his eyes. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking them clean.
Your eyes and mouth, both widen at his action.
"Still feeling pain?", he asks, his demeanor chaning back to normal.
You take deep breaths, trying to regain your composure. Despite the lingering discomfort, there's a newfound sense of warmth within you, thanks to his touch.
“N-no not anymore... Thank you, daddy”, you thank him, your hands reaching for his, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his..
His eyes meet yours, a flicker of surprise passing through them before he smirks. “Of course, my little monkey. After all, it's my responsibility to take care of you too, isn't?", He pinches your cheek, and you nod, tilting back your head to rest.
◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA
Ryomen enters the room, his usual stoic expression barely shifting as he takes in the sight of you, holding your stomach from the cramps. "Uraume," he growls, gesturing towards the you. "Assist her." Turning his gaze back to you, he studies you for a moment before speaking again. "Your monthly curse approaches, huh? I suppose it can't be helped. Uraume will help you with the pain. Stay still, and try not to-"
"P-please.. I need you", you protest, wanting to be comforted only by him.
"Hmm, I see" Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the request. He slowly moves closer, examining your face before pulling you close to him gently.
With a sigh, he concedes. "Very well, your pleading is... entertaining. Lie down, and we shall see if I can ease your suffering."
He helps you onto the soft tatami mat, gently placing a pillow underneath your head. He reaches out to untie your obi, revealing your delicate undergarments. Carefully, he lifts them aside and lowers his head towards you then begins to lick and nibble at your flesh, blood droplets landing on his tonue.
"S-stop i-its dirty!", you protest, try to push his massive head away from your core.
He grins devilishly, his eyes gleaming in delight as he grasps your legs firmly with his two powerful arms. While his third hand expertly kneads your breast, his 'mouth' forms from the fourth one, closing over your nipple possessively. He sucks gently, causing your body to arch involuntarily.
"Hmph, you taste delicious. Just like ripe fruit..." He hums, his breath hitting your core. You feel yourself becoming flushed, his actions both embarrassing yet exhilarating. Despite your protests, you can't deny the pleasure coursing through you.
As his lips trace delicately across your skin, you begin to feel a warm sensation building within you. Your breathing becomes ragged, and your hips buck subconsciously. Slowly, his skilled hands and mouth bring you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you let out a muffled cry, your release washing over you.
Once you've caught your breath, he pulls away, satisfaction radiating from his gaze. "There, much better. Your monthly pain curse should subside now." He smirks, wiping his mouth clean before standing up. "You may rest, dear. Remember, I am here to assist you whenever you need, even with such trivial matters."
With a final glance at your flushed face, Ryomen licks his lips slowly, his eyes lingering on your twitching body for just a moment longer. Then, to your astonishment, he leans in and presses his lips against your stomach.
"Goodnight, my dear." He says, disappearing into the shadows with a soft rustling of robes, leaving only the faintest.
◈ SHIU KONG
"Hey there, kiddo," he asks softly, setting down his cigarette on the table. "How are you feelin' today?" He knows your cycle started yesterday and he just wanna make sure you're alright. "Need anything from me? Want some ice cream?" he suggests with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"N-NO", you nearly yell at him but soon realise you shouldn't have; your mood swings are getting the best of you.
"Alright, alright." He chuckles, raising his hands defensively. "I wasn't gonna force you to eat ice cream if you don't want to.. Just making an offer."
He stands up, crossing the room to sit next to you. His large hand gently rests on your shoulder. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" His eyes widen at the sudden appearance of tears, concern filling his face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest.
"What's goin' on, huh? What's got you all upset?" He strokes your hair gently, trying to offer comfort. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge you."
The warmth of his embrace seeps into your bones, "Just cramps..", you reply, your voice slightly shaken by your emotions.
"Ah, that's rough," he says, nodding understandingly. "Let me grab you some painkillers, then. And maybe a heating pad to help ease those cramps."
As he gets up, he adds, "Try to relax, alright? We'll get through this together."
The way he says 'we' makes your heart skip a beat, but you push the thought away, focusing on the relief of his words.
"C-can you just stay here and", you pull his hand and direct it around your abdomen where it aches, "please massage it?"
Surprised, Shiu looks down at your hands, then back into your eyes. "Of course," he murmurs, resting one hand on your tummy and the other on your thigh. His fingers press gently, moving in slow circles. "Is this okay?"
His palm warms against your skin, alleviating some tension. You let out a shaky groan, giving in to his touch and allowing him to make you feel better.
He swallows hard, adjusting his grip, pressing deeper into your abdomen. The heat from his hand spreads, easing some of the pain.
"Better?" he whispers, concern etched onto his face. "Don't worry," he continues, glancing away nervously. "I've dealt with enough curse users in my career to handle a little cramping."
As his hands move rhythmically across your stomach, his eyes catch yours, lingering for just a moment too long. They try to ignore the electric charge between them.
"Yes..." you answer breathlessly, closing your eyes. "That feels good..." Your body responds to his touch, and you can't help but wish it would last forever.
Shiu shifts his patterns, from rubbing your abdomen to sliding through your shorts to rub against your clad clit. You are too absorbed in pleasure to notice his hand slipping through your shorts. When you come back to your senses, your eyes follow the movement of his hands.
"I said I'd help with the cramps, not..." he trails off, glancing away sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to get carried away", tries to take his hands off you, when you stop him.
"N-no daddy, feels good", you speak timidly, not making eye contact with him.
He freezes for a second, his eyes widening. He chuckles, though it sounds shaky. "Guess you got a bit carried away too, huh?" With a smirk, he resumes his massage, adjusting his hand to provide more pressure to your clit. He leans closer, his free hand coming to cup your cheek.
"You alright?" he asks, concern coloring his voice. "This isn't making things worse, right?" You shake your head, still avoiding his glances. "Well, well," he chuckles, his fingers continuing their dance. "Seems like someone's enjoying this more than they should."
He rubs his thumb agains your lips. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. Just trying to make you feel better."
His touch grows bolder, his hand removing your shorts and panties to rub your clit bare. Your body flinches on direct contact.
His hand pauses, his eyes meeting yours. The look in his eyes is a mix of surprise and exhilaration. "Shall I continue?" he asks, concern filling his tone.
"Yes... yes please," you whisper, blushing furiously.
His eyebrows raise, but he nods slowly. "Okay, just let me know if it's too much, alr?" His fingers resume their movement, rubbing your swollen clit with renewed vigor. You moan softly, leaning into his touch.
He takes advantage of your vulnerability, his other hand sneaking under your shirt to caress your breast. His fingers brush against your nipple, and you gasp, arching into his touch. A shiver runs down your spine, your thighs parting naturally to accommodate his hand.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispers, his hand moves downwards, exploring your stomach, hips, and thighs.
Then, you finally cry out, your legs trembling as an orgasm rips through you, more crimson fluid oozing from within you. Shiu freezes, his eyes wide, "Whoa, whoa, easy there, kiddo," he mutters.
He stops his ministrations, allowing you to recover from your climax. When you finally regain control, he lets out a quiet laugh. "Didn't expect that," he admits, shaking his head slightly. "But hey, if it feels good, then I guess I did a good job"
"Y-yes felt good.. T-thanks dad..", you admit swallowing hard.
"I'm glad, really," he replies, his hands returning to your stomach. His eyes finally meeting yours again.
"But you know," he says hesitantly. "If you ever need a hand... helping you out, you can count on me, right girl?" He smiles, cupping your jaw. "Just remember that."
◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI
Upon returning from work, Hiromi notices his little girl curled up in bed, clutching her abdomen in obvious discomfort. Immediately, concern fills his usually stoic expression. He gently approaches you and examines your face, trying to gauge the severity of your pain.
"Darling," he whispers softly, trying not to startle you. "Are you unwell?" His hand rests lightly on her forehead, feeling for any signs of fever.
You shift in your sleep whispering, "Period pain"
Hiromi's brow furrows with worry, realizing what might be causing your discomfort. He reaches out to grab a pillow and gently places it under your knees to ease the pressure on your lower abdomen.
"I'm so sorry," he says, tenderly. "Didn't expect this to happen today. Let me make you something warm and comforting to help ease the pain."
He stands up to leave for kitchen when you stop him by his hands. "P-please you don't need to do anything.."
He looks down at you, his heart aching for the discomfort you must be experiencing. He understands your desire to handle things independently, but as your stepdad, he feels responsible for taking care of you.
"No matter how grown-up you try to be," Hiromi says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, "You're still my little girl, and I want to help you feel better." He kneels beside the bed again and takes your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me what will make you feel better"
"You..", you reply instantly and involuntarily.
Hiromi looks at you confused by your request," Me?"
Words stuck in your throat as you swallow hard while speaking again, "inside me.."
Hiromi's eyes widen slightly at your unexpected words. He releases a quiet breath, trying to process what you are asking of him. There's a moment where confusion lingers in his gaze before understanding dawns upon him.
"I... I understand," he says in a measured tone. "But are you sure about this?"
His fingers trace gentle circles on the back of your hand, offering both comfort and support. "It's alright if you're uncomfortable discussing it. We can find another way to help with the pain."
You speak again slowly, not meeting his gaze. "Please.."
Hiromi swallows hard, a mix of emotions churning in his chest. Surprise, worry, and protectiveness all coalesce into a single determination. He knows he can't force himself onto you, no matter how much he wants to ease your pain. But he also recognizes your need for comfort and relief.
"Alright," he agrees quietly, rising from the bed to move to the foot of it. "Let's get you more comfortable first."
With utmost gentleness, Hiromi eases you onto your back, making sure you're lying flat and secure on the bed. He removes your remaining clothing, ensuring you're comfortable throughout the process. Once you're settled, his fingertips brush against your skin, eliciting a shiver from you.
"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "Just trying to make you as comfortable as possible."
He prepares himself, taking off his garments and discarding them on the floor, "Ready?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
A tremulous nod is your response, your eyes locked with his. Hiromi smiles softly, reaching for your legs. He spreads them apart gently, his touch tender yet purposeful.
"We'll take this slowly," he promises, his thumbs brushing the inside of your thighs. Your thighs shake slightly, but he stops immediately. "If at any moment you feel pain or discomfort, please tell me, okay?"
You give a small nod, and he continues, his fingers tracing along your inner thighs before eventually finding their way to your core. A nervous flutter courses through you, but he remains patient and gentle.
"Just relax," he instructs as he directs himself between your legs.
Hiromi enters you slowly, taking his time to allow your body to adjust to his presence. He moves with careful precision, each thrust deliberate and unhurried. A deep sense of tenderness fills him as he looks into your eyes, gauging your reaction. Your breath hitches with each movement, but there's no sign of distress.
"How are you doing?" he asks softly, his pace matching the rhythm of your breathing.
"Good..so good.. It's so deep and it's.. a-ah", you flinch at his sudden and rough thrust.
Hiromi winces slightly at your discomfort, stopping instantly. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to cause you pain." He pulls out slowly, his expression full of concern.
"No, it's fine..." you breathe out. "Don't stop..."
He studies your face for a moment, making sure you're truly okay. When he sees your nod, he begins again, moving slower than before.
As his movements continue, his shaft becomes coated with your menstrual blood. Despite the unusual circumstance, Hiromi pushes those thoughts aside and focuses solely on providing comfort and relief. Each stroke is filled with tender care, designed to bring warmth and pleasure rather than discomfort.
Your eyes close, your body arching ever so slightly with each thrust. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your soft moans and his steady breaths.
As the minutes pass, Hiromi can feel your body responding to his touch, the subtle changes telling him you're nearing your climax. His own heart races, feeling a strange mixture of pride and protectiveness. All he desires is to provide you with comfort and release.
"That's it," he whispers, his tempo increasing ever so slightly. "Let go, darling. Let the pleasure wash away your pain."
Suddenly, your body tenses, a wave of ecstasy washing over you. Hiromi matches your intensity, his own breath catching in his throat as he feels your muscles clench around him. With one final surge, he follows you over the edge, your bodies moving in perfect sync.
As your orgasm subsides, Hiromo collapses onto your chest, his heart pounding heavily against yours. He kisses your forehead softly, his breath ragged. "There you go," he murmurs.
"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I hope this helped alleviate your pain."
You look up at him, a grateful smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, it does not pain anymore"
Smile washes over Hiromi's face as he realizes his actions have indeed brought you relief. He pulls out slowly, carefully cleaning up afterwards. Once done, he helps you get cleaned and comfortable, tucking you in tightly.
Hiromi wraps you in his arms, feeling your gratitude like a soothing balm on his soul. He holds you close, stroking your hair gently as you snuggle against his chest. The silence between you speaks volumes about the bond shared - one of love, protection, and unspoken understanding.
"Get some rest now," he says softly, his voice lulling you further into relaxation.
◈ CHOSO KAMO
As a stepfather, Choso is there for you in times of need. Right now, you're going through your period, and he's ready to help take care of you. He's not bold or confident, but he knows how important it is to support you during this time.
Being a curse, Choso is indeed curious about the human body. As he helps you with your period, he finds himself fascinated by your menstrual cycle. He wants to comfort you and learn more about this natural process, taking care of you while gently studying your body.
Gently, Choso holds you close as you lay on his thighs, the cramps making you hiss occasionally. His fingers lightly trace circles over your stomach, attempting to provide comfort as he absorbs the rhythm of your pain. The unfamiliar feeling of caring for someone heals a part of him, even though it's something as simple as relieving period cramps.
"Are you okay?" Choso whispers softly, concern lacing his voice. "I've never experienced something like this before... I want to help, but I'm not sure what to do." He continues stroking your stomach, trying to find some relief for you and hoping his touch brings comfort amidst the discomfort.
You force a smile, saying you're fine, but Choso can tell you're not. Your words don't match the tension in your body. He carefully moves closer, placing his hands between your legs, gently caressing your stomach in a slow, soothing motion.
"May I try massaging your lower abdomen?," he suggests, cautiously approaching your abdomen. His fingers are warm and soft, hesitating slightly as he seeks your permission. "It might help with the cramps," he adds, his dark purple eyes filled with concern. He's never done this before, but he wants to help you feel better. He's always been interested in human bodies and their functions, but now he's learning more intimately.
Reluctantly, you nod, allowing Choso to continue massaging your lower abdomen. His fingers move slowly, tracing gentle patterns that might bring you some relief. As he works his fingers, you instinctively start grinding against his hand, seeking more friction to ease your discomfort. Choso notices this, but doesn't stop.
As his fingers reach closer to your core, you let out soft moans that he interprets as pleasure rather than pain. He sees how much you enjoy it, and decides to use his other hand too, cupping your hip to guide you into proper position. He studies your reactions, understanding that the sensation seems to bring you relief. The curves of your hips and the heat of your body under his hands make him feel both excited and responsible for your well-being.
"Is this helping?" he asks, his voice low and husky, portraying a hint of excitement. "I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but I think it might be working." He watches your movements closely, guided by your responses. Every moan, every small sound of pleasure fuels his curiosity and makes him wonder how else he could make you feel good.
Despite his confusion and innocence, Choso can't ignore the growing attraction between you both. His cock starts to stiffen, pressing against his clothes. He groans softly trying to hide his arousal but you soon turn your head to reveal his massive bulge pressing against your head.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, embarrassed by his reaction. "This wasn't supposed to happen..." He's unsure how to handle the situation, partially aroused and partially concerned for you. "Should we stop?"
"P-please, let me grind against it", with a mix of surprise and nervousness, you beg him to let you grind against his erection. Choso's heart races; this isn't what he expected. Reluctantly, he places your head on the pillow, positions himself between your legs and undoes your pants, revealing your bloodied and swollen pussy. His eyes widen, he has never seen something like this.
He pulls out his own hard cock making sure he does everything to make you feel better. Carefully, he guides the head of his cock to your throbbing clit, rubbing it back and forth in small motions. Your contractions push your wet folds onto the tip of his shaft, leaving a trail of blood. Choso can't help but groan, feeling the warmth and wet folds rubbing against his member.
Choso looks into your eyes, seeking consent or dismissal. What he sees is desire, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
Swallowing hard, he feels a strange mixture of arousal and responsibility. Choso's pace increases as both of you moan heavily. He keeps rubbing his cock against your clit, feeling your wetness increase with each thrust.
Soon, you climax, shaking in his grasp, and he can't hold back anymore. Aching to release his own tension, Choso spills his cum onto your belly, still rubbing his cock against your clit. The warmth of your body and the sight of his seed spreading over your skin overwhelm him. "I'm—I'm sorry," he mumbles, pulling away. "That wasn-"
You interrupt him with "T-thank you.."
Choso's face turns bright red, but he can't deny the gratitude in your voice. Confusion clouds his mind, but he appreciates your Thank you.
"Y-you're welcome..." He stammers, trying to catch his breath. Despite everything, he feels satisfied knowing he brought pleasure to you. "Do you feel better now?"
"Y-yes so much", you admit.
After a moment, Choso kisses your cheeks gently, surprised at how soft and warm they feel. He stands up, helping you to your feet as well. "Let's clean up," he says quietly, guiding you towards the bathroom.
dividers from @/cafekitsune
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro#nanami smut#nanami x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#ryoumen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna#shiu x reader#choso smut#gojo satoru#hiromi higuruma x reader#jjk higuruma#higuruma x reader#tw stepcest#choso x reader
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title: What A Man (What A Mighty Good Man)
pairing: idol!S.Coups x gn!reader
genre: fluff, comedic, suggestive
warnings: BSS drunk karaoke, second-hand embarrassment, pet names (pretty, babe, baby, etc.), alcohol mentions, mentions of explicit material, implied that reader is smaller than cheol (cheol can carry reader over his shoulder), reader has a bit of a lumberjack fantasy about cheol
synopsis: Everyone knows you're down bad for Seungcheol, it's just extra obvious when you're drunk.
wordcount: 2k
taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @pearlygraysky, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang
rating: 18+
a/n: idk why i wrote this, i was just listening to the song and then i got the idea- procrastinating on work is my biggest source of motivation for writing
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✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ���
Seungcheol knew that tonight would end in chaos as soon as he saw the karaoke machine. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put in a karaoke machine in the living room area of the vacation home, was immensely wrong. He knew that at least a couple people in the group were going to start using it after a few drinks tonight, and luckily managed to get one of the bedrooms in the smaller cabins nearby instead of one in the main building. However, he didn't expect that one of the people who would hop on the karaoke machine would be you.
It was already getting late when Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin had "discovered" the karaoke machine. One of the members, or maybe even one of their partners, had attempted to hide it under a blanket - to no avail, seeing as the three of them were able to sniff it out.
It all started with a solo from Seungkwan, which Soonyoung joined in on. Soon enough, the entirety of BSS was singing together once Seokmin had joined them. Once the song finished, everyone expected them to start singing again soon enough - but they didn't expect to hear your voice echo from the speakers.
Seungcheol sat in the corner of the room, talking to Joshua about how nice it was going to be to spend some quiet time alone with you, when he heard "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa and En Vogue start playing over the systems. At first, he thought nothing of it - maybe he was a little surprised that Soonyoung knew all of the words to the first verse, but there was nothing in particular that got his attention from his conversation. That was, until you started on the second verse.
"My man is smooth like Barry and his voice got bass. A body like Arnold with a Denzel face-"
Your voice was giggly, but you surprisingly managed to sing all of the words quite clearly . Joshua snorted as he looked up to the mini-stage that Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had made out of a few tables. Seungcheol didn't dare look up at first, but it was impossible to ignore your loud voice over the speakers. As soon as he lifted his gaze to meet yours, your face lit up. From your face, Seungcheol could tell that you were drunk - he could tell that you were very drunk from the way you danced as if no one was watching... despite everyone definitely watching.
"Yeah, the ritual, highway to Heaven. From 7 to 7, he's got me open like 7-11," you shouted into the microphone while pointing to him.
Soonyoung was on the floor, dying from laughter, Seokmin was staring at the lyrics on the screen, and Seungkwan was singing back-up vocals while you kept going. Eventually, Seungcheol excused himself from his conversation with Joshua to walk to the front of the room. While he only thought this was cute, he knew that you would be embarrassed as all hell in the morning. It was time to put this to a stop. Seungkwan had since taken over, while you were holding your arms over your head and moving your hips in circles - completely unaware of the eyes on you, despite the many whoop's and wolf whistles. When you saw him approach, you stopped what you were doing and bounced over to him.
"Seungcheollie~," you slurred directly into the microphone. "You're a mighty-mighty good man!"
"Uh-huh." Seungcheol looked up at you, holding his hands out to catch you in case you fell off the table you were standing on. "I think you're ready for bed, pretty."
"Noooo," you whined as your boyfriend managed to take the microphone from you. "The song isn't done yet..."
Seungkwan and Soonyoung were still singing, while Seokmin was still looking at the lyrics and shouting out words at random, and not paying attention to you anymore. With a sigh, Seungcheol put the mic down on the ground - though he couldn't hide his big smile as he looked back up to see that you had started dancing again. He managed to take ahold of you, grabbing your legs and putting your body over his shoulder.
"Cheollie, nooo..."
Seungcheol excused himself to the room of people, and didn't wait for their response before going away to the bedroom the two of you had picked out. To get you more comfortable before he carried out in the chilly night, he maneuvered you to sit with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your face naturally found its way to the crook of his neck, and he heard you let out a delighted sigh as he hugged you a little tighter. He managed to put on his slippers without looking - or at least he thought it was his slippers - and decided to leave your shoes there to be picked up in the morning.
"Comfy?" he asked.
You hummed in response, and Seungcheol opened the door to step outside. The walk to the cabin wasn't far but it was getting pretty cold outside, and you shivered in his arms.
"We'll get you in bed soon, baby," he cooed at you.
"Seungcheol," you said in a very serious tone - you definitely hadn't heard what he had just said.
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't you a lumberjack man?" You lifted your upper body up to look at him.
"Why am I not a what now?" Seungcheol laughed, doing his best to give you his attention while still keeping you off the ground. "A lumberjack man?"
"You're so strong- you can definitely carry wood for a living." You gripped onto his biceps. "And you'd have, like, a husky or something... not that Kkuma isn't cute, she should come with us too... and we'd live in the woods- I think it'd be very hot of you."
"Are you fantasizing about me as a lumberjack man?" He opened the door to the cabin and stepped inside. "I thought I already was a mighty good man."
"Oh, you are." As he set you down on the bed, you refused to let him go - your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close to you. "I just wanna watch you chop wood."
Despite you smelling of alcohol, Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your lips. His heart melted as he saw your big smile when he pulled away. As if his kiss was the password for you to unlock your arms, you let him go. Your eyes stayed on Seungcheol as he walked around the room, preparing for the night. He went into the bathroom to grab the painkillers you had brought and when he came back out, you were still looking at him. Your legs were crossed, leaning back on your arms, and your head was cocked to the side. As if he wasn't looking right at you, you looked him up and down - very obviously undressing him with your eyes.
"Babe," he said, interrupting your staring. "Get your pajamas."
"You're not going to undress me?" You pouted.
You were that kind of drunk. Seungcheol sighed and walked over to your bag, taking out your pajama pants and a t-shirt. While he was usually always intrigued whenever you tried to initiate something, tonight was not the case. You were almost too drunk to stand up straight, so no amount of complimenting his strong arms or fluttering your eyes at him was going to make Seungcheol give in. Still, he agreed to help undress you - and did so quickly, while you giggled as you tried to interrupt him.
Your hands never left his skin as he guided you around the room to get you ready for bed. After successfully getting you to brush your teeth, it was time for your skincare. He sat you down on the counter in the bathroom to help you, all the while you were feeling up his arms and shoulders. It was a little distracting, but Seungcheol put all of his energy to get your face clean. His hands were gentle as they traced the features of your face, and you closed your eyes in pure bliss.
"Maybe you shouldn't be a lumberjack man," you muttered.
"No? Why not?"
"Your hands are so gentle," you whispered, as if it was a secret.
You let go of his arms to start touching his hands instead. Seungcheol tried his best to keep your hands away from his own, but you were relentless. With your hands on top of his, you pressed them against your cheeks. They almost covered your entire face, but you didn't seem to mind.
"Soft hands," you muttered. "Wow, you're warm."
"Baby, just let me do the last step..." He sighed and removed his hands from you to pick up your face lotion. "You're a menace when you're drunk."
"Can you cuddle me when we go to bed?" you asked sweetly, ignoring what he had just said again. "I want to steal your warmth."
"Sure, babe." He looked up at you with a soft smile. "Now, close your eyes again."
Once you were tucked under the covers, he got you a glass of water. When you saw him, standing in front of you with a glass of water and looking tired, your eyes started tearing up. Seungcheol was quick to crouch down, putting the water on the bedside table, and reaching out to cup your face in his hands.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he cooed.
"You really are a good man," you mumbled with a pout. "Like- not just in the hot way."
Seungcheol hung his head down to hide his laugh from you. If you had seen him laughing at you, he knew that you'd take it as a personal attack. He looked back at you, trying to keep a straight face.
"You deserve the best, alright?" He let you go and picked up the glass of water again. "Now, drink up. I'll get you another glass for you to drink in the morning."
You nodded, tears still in your eyes over his sweet act, and started drinking. After putting painkillers and another glass of water on the bedside table by your side of the bed, Seungcheol got ready for bed. When he crawled into bed, minutes later, you were already half asleep. He kept his promise, and cuddled up next to you. You snuggled your head against his chest, and put your cold feet against his legs. Seungcheol froze up, but was careful not to make a sound as you were about to fall asleep. He knew that you were going to hate yourself in the morning, that you were going to ask him a million questions about what you had done, but now you looked so peaceful and he hoped that you could stay like that for as long as possible.
✦ . B O N U S . ✦
Breakfast was set out in the living room of the main house, made by the few that weren't experiencing a hungover that morning. You walked in behind Seungcheol, wearing one of his hoodies with the hood pulled up and sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose to protect you from the strong sunlight. As soon as a few people saw the two of you, they started singing:
"Whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man!"
You groaned and reluctantly sat down by the table, apologizing to everyone that was there about your drunken behavior the night before. People started joking around about it and while you were embarrassed, you couldn't help but to laugh at their jokes.
"Seriously, Seungcheol, you should be proud." Chan said from beside you. "No sane person would ever get up on a table and sing that song like that to a person, if they weren't down bad for them."
You slapped Chan's arm lightly, but you knew it was true. Choi Seungcheol was a mighty good man, and you were 100% down bad for him.
#svt#svthub#kvanity#seventeen#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#kpop#kpop writer#svt fluff#fanfic#seungcheol smut#seventeen seungcheol#seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#seungcheol fluff#bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩
♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all
tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff
"Sir? Sir!”
Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”
You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).
It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him.
Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.
He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.
Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out.
One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.
You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.
“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again.
From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love.
| The letter:
‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go.
With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’
꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
#simon ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon riley cod#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost riley#simon riley#canary’s symphonies#canary’s melodies
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tongue-tied
synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk
word count: 3.1k
contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying
a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3
. . .
“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time.
She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves.
Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.
“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”
Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed.
Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another.
Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was.
Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter.
It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.
A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.
When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond.
Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk.
Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time.
Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday.
Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age.
Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade.
“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.
“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.
“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her.
Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?”
Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb.
“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.”
“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.”
“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to.
Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?”
“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.
“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.” He thought.
Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured.
“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,”
She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.”
So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words.
“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter.
“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time.
Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise.
They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves.
Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn.
“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on.
Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.”
“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.
“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.
“Fine,” She sighs dramatically.
She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book.
Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.”
Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.”
Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside.
“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.”
He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’
Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.”
Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered.
Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time.
It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart.
Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad.
They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,”
Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement.
“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”
“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her.
“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily.
Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.
“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully.
When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom.
. . .
Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them.
He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning.
She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it.
So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom.
“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached.
“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak.
Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class.
He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door.
“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly.
“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well.
Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.”
Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class.
By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said.
Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.
“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist.
“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed.
“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her.
“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly.
“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”
“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.
“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”
“Did you win?” Y/N asked.
Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.
“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”
“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite.
“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.
“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly.
“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.”
Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.
#softgirlsundays#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#fic rec#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic rec#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles writing#writing#fanfic rec#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you
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Text
And I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: you overhear Peter denying that he likes you so you go out with another guy, leaving him to crash your date and tell you how he feels
Masterlist
“At what point does the staring because you’re pining for your friend become staring because you’re a stalker and planing on wearing her hair as a wig?” Ned asked after following Peter’s gaze and seeing he was once again staring at you from across the cafeteria.
“I don’t know. I think when I start wearing baseball caps and standing outside her window with binoculars.” Peter sighed happily and rested his chin in his hand as he continued to stare.
“But, it’s not gonna get to that point though, right?” Ned laughed nervously.
“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “She lives on a pretty high floor.”
“That’s not the answer I wanted.” Ned said quietly.
“I had a dream last night that I asked her out and she said “I’ll see you at 8” without ever telling me where we were meeting just like in the movies.” Peter said proudly.
“You should not be proud of that. Why don’t you just ask her out with your out loud words for once?” Ned asked him.
“Because the dynamic of our friendship will be-“
“-forever altered past the point of repair and things will eventually return to normal but never feel the same.” Ned groaned as ge finished Peter’s sentence. “Yes, I know. Thats always your excuse. But I really don’t think she’ll say no.”
“You don’t know that.” Peter insisted. “I can’t risk it.”
“Peter, it’s so obvious you guys like each other. She always laughs at your jokes and nobody, and I mean nobody, finds you funny. And I know you like her back because you stare at her all the time and got goosebumps that one time her ponytail hit you in the face.”
“It smelled like freedom and prosperity.” Peter whispered.
“So ask her out and smell her ponytail all the time.” Ned whispered back.
“I just can’t, okay? And I don’t even like her like that. So stop bringing it up.” Peter said and looked over at you again. He watched you leave a group of friends and walk over to him and Ned.
“But you guys obviously want to be together so why don’t you just be together?” Ned asked him.
“Because I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me, okay? That’s that.” Peter whispered harshly just as you sat down at their table.
“Hey guys. I’m pretty sure I just got a veinte out of one hundred on my Spanish quiz so.” You sighed and dropped your backpack on the table.
“Hi.” Peter’s blushed and smiled at you. Your bad mood quickly eviscerated and you smiled back.
“Hi Peter.”
“If you want, I can help you study for your next Spanish quiz. I took it last semester and did fairly bien.” Peter offered.
“Really?” You lit up. “Thanks, Pete. That would be so bien of you.”
“No problemo.” Peter said back.
“This feels…racist.” Ned mumbled as he watched the interaction.
“I, uh, I watched that movie you were talking about the other day.“ You told Peter with a nervous smile.
“You watched Alien? Did you like it?” Peter asked excitedly.
“I did but it made me kinda paranoid about, you know, aliens. But I liked the part when the alien came out of the guys chest. I never realized that scene was from that movie. I felt like I was finally in on the film bros inside jokes.”
“Yeah. I like that part too. I also like the part when he swam up the filters motor and stuck that pebble in there so the tank would get dirty and have to be cleaned, giving all the other fish a chance to escape.” Peter replied. It took you a minute to get it but when you did, you burst out laughing. Peter blushed at how hard you were laughing at his joke while Ned watched the interaction in disgust.
“That was not funny.” Ned shook his head. “Not even a little bit. It was a little criminal actually.”
“What? Yes it was. Peters always funny.” You insisted.
“Isn’t he though?” Ned faked a smile before rolling his eyes.
“Hey, back off. I liked the joke.” You defended Peter, making his blush deepen.
“Thank you. I like your jokes too.” Peter told you.
“Ugh.” Ned groaned. “This is revolting to watch. Why don’t you guys just get married already?”
“That’s not a bad idea.” You said. “We’d get a tax break, right? Whatever that means.”
“It’s when they break your taxes in half.” Peter answered.
“Oh, is that it?” You laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“I know because I took that accounting class freshman year. You weren’t in that class so you wouldn’t know.” He teased you.
“Hm. Is that the class they cancelled because not enough people signed up?” You teased back.
“Yep. That one.” He nodded. “Wow. The memory on you. You’d be an excellent gatherer if this was Hunter gatherer times.”
“Aw, Peter. That’s the nicest thing a guys ever said to me.” You smiled and touched your heart.
“If you liked that compliment I have like eight more in the chamber ready to go.” Peter told you.
“Oh my God. Just make out already. But not in front of my clementine.” Ned grumbled and peeled his clementine. You and Peter fell silent at his exclamation. Peter’s face burned with embarrassment while you avoided eye contact with either of them.
“I’m gonna go refill my water bottle. I’ll be right back.” You smiled awkwardly and quickly left the table.
“Nice job, Ned.” Peter hugged. “You just made her so uncomfortable she went to fill up a full water bottle.”
“I told you, dude. She obviously likes you. I was just pointing out the obvious.” Ned defended himself.
“She doesn’t like me.” Peter insisted.
“Are you kidding me? You just made a Finding Nemo joke and she actually laughed. Not even fake laugh. That was a genuine belly laugh at the worst joke I have ever had the misfortune of hearing. She’s down horrendous for you.”
“No, she’s not. She just sees me as a friend. And I don’t even like her like that so it doesn’t matter.” Peter lied in an effort to change the subject.
“You can’t hide the truth from your best friend. I see right through your lies. You like her. I know it and you know it. Why can’t she know it?” Ned asked.
“I told you to stop bringing it up.” Peter grumbled, growing frustrated now. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to bring this up but it was happening more than usual lately and all it did was remind Peter that you’d never be together.
“But-“
“I don’t like her, okay? I never did. I don’t think she’s pretty, I don’t find her funny, and I don’t want to be her boyfriend. I don’t know why you don’t believe me. I swear, I do not like her like that. I never have, and I never will. Okay?” Peter snapped. Little did he know, you had come back to the table and heard his whole outburst. You blinked a few times as your stomach sank but put on a brave face and sat down.
“I’m back.” You forced a smiled but didn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter’s eyes widened when you sat down and he looked at Ned.
“How much of that did you hear?” Peter asked you.
“How much of what?” You played dumb. You had to pretend you weren’t crushed that the boy you’d been pining after for years just very aggressively confirmed he didn’t like you.
“Nothing.” Peter lied and exchanged another look with Ned. Ned shrugged before changing the subject to move away from the moment entirely. You pretended to listen as you tried your best not to look as disappointed as you felt.
Once your break was over, you left the cafeteria and went for a walk around campus to clear your head. You ended up on a bench and sat down before taking a big sigh. You hadn’t noticed the guy that was sitting on the other end of the bench, but he certainly noticed you.
“Hey.” He said. You looked around for who he was talking to but found no one.
“Me, hey?” You asked and pointed to yourself.
“Yeah. You, hey.” He smiled and nodded his head.
“Oh. Hey.” You smiled back.
“I’m Drew.” He said.
“Y/n.” You said back.
“What’s the matter, Y/n? You look forlorn.”
“Oh, it’s stupid.” You waved your hand.
“Not to me. Tell me about it.” He insisted and scooted closer to you. You looked down at the lessened space between the two of you and laughed shyly.
“It’s nothing. I just overheard my friends talking about me.” You told him.
“Oh shit. Was it bad?”
“Not necessarily. But it didn’t make me feel good.”
“Damn. That sucks.” Drew said. You nodded in agreement and an awkward silence fell between you.
“I like that shirt.” He said suddenly and nodded towards your shirt.
“Oh, thanks. I borrowed it from a girl I didn’t even talk to anymore.” You replied as you pulled on the shirt.
“Finders keepers.” He shrugged. “You should wear it when I take you out.”
“Why would I wear a shirt you’ve already seen when we go out?” You laughed.
“So we’re going out?” Drew smiled.
“I guess we are.” You shrugged and realized you had just agreed to a date.
“Cool. I’ll pick you up Friday.” Drew winked at you before getting off the bench. You smiled at the unexpected interaction before realizing you had not gotten a single detail.
“Wait, pick me up where?” You called after him, but he was already gone. You slumped back in your seat on the bench and felt an equal mix of confusion and excitement. Maybe this new guy was exactly what you needed to forget about Peter.
The next day, you sat with Peter and Ned at your usual spot in the lunch room but barely paid attention to their conversation. Drew had found you on Instagram and you’d been talking to him all day. Peter had noticed your thumbs flying around your keyboard and the smile on your face and felt curious and ever so slightly jealous about who was making you smile like that.
“Is that good with you Y/n?” Ned asked you.
“Sorry, what?” You asked and put your phone down.
“We were saying we were gonna get chicken wings and watch the Trixi Mattel documentary.” Peter informed you.
“Again? And I can’t Friday.” You told them.
“Why not?” Peter asked.
“I have a date.”
Ned and Peter exchanged a looked before started to speak at the same time. They both stumbled over their words and spoke over each other as they gave you all their thoughts and opinions on why you should not go on this date. You tried to cut in but Ned kept listing Criminal Minds plot lines where women were murdered while Peter asked question after question about the guy.
“Slow down. One at a time.” You shouted over them and they both went silent. You pointed to Ned to signal that it was his turn to talk.
“You have a date? With a human boy?” Ned asked in disgust.
“Yeah. Is that surprising?” You asked, sounding a little hurt that they were so shocked.
“No.” Peter replied and looked at Ned to signal for him to say the same so that you wouldn’t be offended.
“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “Who the hell is this guy?”
“Ned.” Peter said warningly.
“His name is Drew.” You shrugged.
“Drew? What’s his brothers name, draw? Stupid fucking past tense ass bullshit name.” Ned grumbled.
“Jesus Ned.” You laughed. “It’s a normal name. It’s short for Andrew.”
“Andrew?” Peter scoffed. “What is he, an apostle?”
“I don’t think there was an apostle named. Andrew.” You stated. “I think they were all named Mark. And like, John or something.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Peter waved his hand. “Why are you going on a date with this potential psychopath?”
“Because asked me on a date.” You said simply.
“And you said yes? When we don’t even know this guy. What if he’s into hardcore drugs and wants to use you as a drug mule for his next big drug operation?“
“He seemed fine.” You shrugged.
“So you’re gonna risk your life going on a date with this lunatic because he “seemed” fine? What if he’s a cannibal?” Ned asked.
“I don’t think he’s a cannibal. He was just sitting on a bench on his phone.”
“Oh my God. He sounds completely insane. Check the sex offender registry for his name right now.” Ned instructed Peter. Peter started typing his name into his laptop so you shut Peter’s laptop with a roll of your eyes.
“Why are you guys being insane? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“I’m about to end my life over this.” Peter mumbled.
“Me too.” Ned added. “What even spurred this reckless decision?”
“I don’t know. A guy hasn’t shown interest in me in a while. This guy did so I took a chance. Is it really that crazy?”
“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “You’re ludicrous for this. You are absolutely Pitbull featuring Ludacris for this. Saying yes to a date with a stranger. This girl has lost her damn mind.”
“How else do you meet people?” You asked them.
“You don’t.” Peter said a sarcastic laugh. you threw your hands up in exasperation and Peter and Ned exchanged a look.
“What he means is, you should try asking a friend out. That way, you already know them and know you won’t get diced and quartered into a bunch of little pieces.” Ned said kindly.
“Why would he dice me and quarter me? Wouldn’t one or the either be enough?” You asked.
“Probably not for this lunatic.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous to suggest.
“I think you guys are over reacting. What if he’s just a nice guy wants to take me on a date?”
“No guy wants that.” Ned groaned.
“Wow. Thanks Ned.” You said sarcastically.
“What I meant was, Peter has something to say.” Ned said and pointed to Peter. Peter turned bright red and gave Ned an angry look.
“You do?” You asked Peter.
“No?” Peter replied.
“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked away from him, making Peter know he blew it.
“Where is the date?” Ned asked.
“I don’t know. Some frat house. He said his friend is having a party and he wants to take me.”
“A party? At a frat house? With underage drinking? Oh great. So this guy is a law breaker. He probably has an extensive criminal record already. And I bet it’s for the drug mule thing.” Ned insisted.
“We’re all 21. You literally turned 22 last week.” You reminded him.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation.” Ned brushed you off.
“What kind of first date is a party anyway? A girl like you deserves to be taken on a nice, well thought out date that doesn’t involve getting drunk around strangers. If I was the one taking you on a date, I’d make a picnic of your favorite snacks and we’d eat it on the rooftop of my apartment while the sun sets.” Peter stated.
“But you’re not the one taking me on a date. He is. He likes me, you don’t.” You said sharply, making everyone fall silent. You hadn’t meant to snap at Peter like that but it bothered you that he was aggressively putting down your date after rejecting you.
“What? Am I wrong?” You asked the table.
“Peter.” Ned whispered but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked at Peter again but he just couldn’t do it.
“No. You’re not wrong.” He said quietly. You nodded your head like you expected that before getting up from the table.
“I just wanted my friends to tell me they were happy for me. Instead, we just had one of the weirdest and least encouraging conversations I’ve ever been an apart of. I’ll see you guys later.” You grumbled and walked away.
“That went well.” Ned said once you were gone.
“She definitely overheard me. I totally hurt her feelings and drove her right into the arms of that cannibal drug mule. Why did I say those things?” Peter asked and rubbed his face in frustration.
“I don’t know man. I would have stopped at “I don’t like her” but you really went off.” Ned agreed.
“Because you were annoying me with how much you were asking.” Peter whined. “Oh God. What am I gonna do now? Shes gonna go to that party and fall in love with draw and forget all about me.”
“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna find draw’s party and crash it. And you’re gonna woman up and tell her how you feel.”
“How are we gonna find his party? We’re not exactly good at attending parties.”
“I have my sources.” Ned smiled deviously.
“You’re just track her location on snap maps, aren’t you?” Peter sighed.
“Yeah, I’m just gonna track her on snap maps.” Ned admitted.
When Friday came around, Peter and Ned were glued to their phones as the tried to find out where you were. Luckily for them, you had been posting a plethora of pictures of the party to your Snapchat so they easily found where you were. Unlucky for Peter, Drew was featured in all of the pictures and you looked like you were having the time of your life. Peter swallowed down his jealousy and got dressed to go to the party. He rehearsed his speech for you in his head as he made his way through the crowd. He finally found you in the kitchen in the arms of a girl he didn’t recognize. Your eyes lit up when you saw him and you tried to go towards him but immediately tripped over your over feet.
“Peter!” You cheered and threw your arms around him. The girl who had been holding you let go of your waist while Peter looked at her in confusion. You stumbled into Peter and had a hard time keeping yourself up straight
“You know her?” The girl asked Peter.
“Yeah. She’s my best friend. What’s going on? Who are you? And where’s draw?”
“I’m Serita. I found her all by herself. She seemed pretty upset.”
“Well if it isn’t Peter Peter pumpkin eater. He actually doesn’t even like pumpkin flavored things. He doesn’t like me either. He made that very clear.” You laughed and clapped Serita on the back. Serita looked at Peter in amusement but he was too focused on how drunk you were.
“Are you drunk?” Peter asked in shock.
“What? No.” You scoffed and nearly fell over.
“She’s wasted.” Serita told him. “I got her to drink some water by telling her it was a big shot of vodka.”
“I’m just here to feel the heat with somebody.” You said and held your hands up in defense.
“I’ve never seen you drink this much. What happened?” Peter asked you.
“Psh. I’m not as think as you drunk I am.” You denied the obvious with a wave of your hand. The action caused you to stumble again and you had to grip Peter’s shirt to keep from going down.
“You can’t even stand up straight. Where’s draw?” Peter asked again and looked around the room for your date.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he left with that pretty red headed girl from our statistics class sophmore year. With that teacher who had that cat with a silly name. Remember him? What was the cats name?”
“Kitty puss.” Peter reluctantly admitted.
“Kitty puss!” You cheered again and nearly dropped to the floor.
“I got you.” Peter said and tightened his grip on you. “But if he’s on on a date with you then why did he leave with another girl?”
“Because he didn’t get what he wanted from this girl?” You shrugged with a sad smile. Peter’s eyes darkened and he looked at Serita with a clenched jaw.
“What did he want?” He asked her.
“To get her drunk enough to lower her standards.” Serita stated. “That’s what he does to all the undergrad girls on this campus. Or at least, he tries to. Girls his age know better and stay away from him. But unfortunately for your best friend here, she didn’t know about his reputation.”
“Sterling Knight should have had a bigger career after Starstruck. He was funny and could sing. I never found him all that handsome but he had star power. He deserved more from Disney and I’ll die on that hill.” You interrupted their conversation to say.
“That’s nice, sweetie.” Peter smiled kindly at you before looking at Serita again. “I’m gonna take her to the bathroom and try to sober her up. Thanks for taking care of her. I’m glad she had a friend here.”
“Oh, I don’t know this girl. I just noticed she needed someone and stayed with her.” Serita explained. Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving her a grateful smile.
“Oh. Well thanks for noticing. I got it from here.” He said before picking you up bridal style. You laughed gleefully and wrapped your arms around his neck, making Peter turn red again. Serita noticed this and stopped him.
“Hold on. How do I know I can trust you with her?” Serita asked. “What if you don’t even know her and you’re just trying to do what Drew was trying to do?”
“I promise I know her. Look. She’s my lock screen.” Peter said and showed Serita his lock screen which was a photo of the two of you.
“Best friend, huh?” Serita smirked.
“Please.” Peter whined. “I can’t hear it from you too. I’m an idiot and I know that. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”
“Well good luck. She’s been talking about “my Peter” all night.” Serita patted his back before walking away. Peter smiled at that before carrying you to the bathroom.
“Is this how Lady Gaga felt at the 2011 Grammys when they carried her in in that giant egg?” You asked as you rested your head on Peter’s shoulder.
“We will never know how Lady Gaga felt while being carried in a giant egg at the 2011 Grammys. You’re just being carried by your idiot friend to a disgusting frat bathroom that probably has salmonella and syphilis all over it.”
“Romantic.” You chuckled and held Peter tighter. He shut the bathroom door behind the two of you before gently putting you down on the countertop. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet while you swung your legs.
“My tummy hurts.” You whined.
“I know. Take this.” Peter instructed and handed you Tylenol.
“Magic beans?”
“Tylenol. Drink this.” He chuckled and handed you back the cup of water from Serita. You chugged the water with the pills and wiped your mouth before giving Peter a sad smile.
“How do you feel? Do you need to puke?”
“No.” You shook your head. That action made you nauseous and you hopped off the counter to throw up into the toilet.
“I had a feeling that was gonna happen.” Peter mumbled.
“Don’t tell Kitty Puss about what a wreck I am.” You pleaded and threw up again.
“I won’t.” Peter laughed and held your hair back.
“I’m gonna die.” You whined and slumped against the bathtub. Peter sat down beside you and got the hair out of your face.
“You’re not gonna die.” He assured you. “You’re just gonna have really bad breath and carpet burn on your knees.”
“I hate carpet burn.” You said and started to cry. Peter had a feeling the tears weren’t just from the carpet burn so he wrapped his arms around you.
“It’s okay. Let it all out.” He said softly as he rubbed his hand on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder for a minute before pulling away. He grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped your tears for you.
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly as you stared down at your lap.
“What are you sorry for?”
“For going on this date.”
“No. I don’t want to hear that. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Peter shook his head as he continued to dry your eyes. You pushed your hand away and held it so he would look at you.
“I do. I only went because I was mad at you. And I posted all those things because I wanted you to think I was having fun with another guy. But I wasn’t having fun. I was thinking about you the entire night.”
“Well you fooled me.” Peter chucked. “I thought you were halfway in love with this guy already. But why were you mad at me?”
“I heard you the other day. I heard you tell Ned you didn’t like me.” You admitted and gave him a sad smile.
“Oh, that’s not-“
“And it’s fine.” You cut him off. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you over that. It’s not your fault you don’t like me. We can’t help what we don’t feel.”
Peter stared into your eyes and saw a sadness he’d never seen you show before. You had sobered up a little but still weren’t completely there. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wanted you to be sober enough to remember it.
“So what happened to your date?” He changed the subject. You gave Peter a sad smile and shrugged your shoulders.
“He wasn’t much of a gentleman.” You admitted. Peters jaw clenched but he tried to remain calm for you same.
“Why do you say that?”
“I kept trying to talk to him and get to know him but all he wanted to do was get drunk. So I kept drinking whatever he handed me because I thought that would make me a more “fun” date.” You told him. You looked down at your dress and nervously fiddled with the hem of it. Peter stayed silent as he watched your eyes fill up with tears.
“I got all dressed up. I did my hair and my makeup. I tried to look pretty for him.” You said sadly. “But he didn’t even compliment me when he saw me. And he didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. I kept feeling like I was annoying him any time I asked him a question. But I was just trying to get to know him.“
“Well he’s crazy for not complimenting you. Because you look very pretty tonight.”
“Oh, please. My makeup’s running down my face and I probably have puke on my dress.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still the prettiest girl in this room.” Peter told you.
“I’m the only girl in this room.” You reminded him and pointed to the bathroom wall.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re the prettiest girl in any room you’re in.” Peter stated. That brought a smile out of you and you slipped your hand into his.
“You’re sweet.” You smiled in appreciation and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter squeezed you back before getting the hair off your forehead. You leaned into his hand and looked into his eyes.
“What happened tonight?“ He asked quietly.
“Well, once I was drunk enough for Drew’s liking, he asked me to go up to one of the bedrooms with him. I went because I thought it was because he wanted a more private place to talk. I thought he wanted to hear what I had to say. Imagine that? Imagine your date being interesting in something you had to say? But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t want to talk.” You laughed sadly before looking down at the floor with a heavy sadness.
“What did he want?” Peter asked and braced himself. You looked up and met Peter’s eyes with a sad smile.
“You know what he wanted.” You said softly. Peter gulped and nodded his head so you wouldn’t have to relive it. You let out a sigh and wiped your tears on the back of your hand.
“He didn’t even kiss me.” You laughed sadly. “He just shut the door and tried to unzip my dress. I pushed him away and yelled at him, and then he got upset that I was upset so he left me in there. I was too drunk to go after him so I just sat there for a while in the dark. By the time I came back down to the party, he was already making out with another girl.”
“What’s this guys problem? He got to take the most incredible girl in this city on a date and he blows it in every way possible? He’d be lucky to talk to you, let alone go out on a date with you. How could he not see what a privilege he had just to be near you?” Peter said with genuine anger.
“Thanks, Pete.” You chuckled and felt slightly better about the night. Peter was about to go off more until he saw the look on your face. You didn’t need to hear Peter’s gripe right now. You needed comfort.
“Should we kill him?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.
“I think so. Serita told me he’s got a bit of a reputation for this kind of thing. I had no idea.”
“I can’t believe Ned was right and this guy really was insane.” Peter said, making you laugh.
“I know. I guess this means we should listen to him more.” You laughed. Peter smiled at you before scooping you up again and kicking the door open.
“Woah. Where are we going?” You asked as he carried you straight out of the party.
“On a real date.” He replied and you fell silent. He carried you all the way to his apartment building and swung up to the roof.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and he slipped out of his button down. He draped it over your shoulders to keep you warm before racing downstairs.
When he returned, he had a picnic blanket, his portable Death Star night light, a lunchables pizza, and two bottles of water. You smiled as he laid the picnic blanket down before patted the space beside him. You sat down and he wrapped a blanket from his bed around the both of you. You cracked open your water bottle and downed it while he put together the lunchables. He handed you one of the pizzas and you did cheers before silently eating them as the sun began to rise.
“Are you enjoying your meal, madam?” Peter looked away from the sunrise to ask you.
“Why, yes I am. This is one of the finer lunchables I’ve ever eaten. Compliments to the chef.” You played along.
“The chef thanks you kindly.” Peter replied and you both laughed.
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a minute as you watched the sky become pink. Peter looked over at you and felt his heart ache over the way the sun was lighting up your face with a warm glow. You were holding your blanket tightly around your body to shield yourself from the morning air and had your eyes shut to let the night wash away from you. Peter knew in that moment he was in love and it could not be unspoken any longer.
“So, uh, remember when we were in the bathroom before and you said we should listen to Ned more?” Peter began.
“That doesn’t sound like something I would say. But I guess so. Why?” You wondered and looked over at him. Peter looked you in the eyes and gulped.
“Ned was actually right about a second thing.”
“Two things? Is he going for a personal record?” You laughed. When you saw that Peter wasn’t laughing, you stopped smiling.
“What is it, Pete? Something bad?”
“No. Not bad. Just, um, just a little clarification, I guess.” Peter began.
“Clarification about what?”
“I know you heard me telling Ned that I didn’t like you. And I know that it hurt your feelings. Which I totally understand why it would. It was overkill. But what you overheard the was my frustrated attempt to get Ned to stop insisting that I liked you.”
“Oh. Okay.” You said slowly and never took your eyes off him. Peter stared into your eyes for the last time before everything changed.
“And the only reason he keeps insisting that is because it’s true. He was trying to get me to tell you how I felt and I snapped at him because I was scared that if I ever did tell you how I felt, you wouldn’t feel the same.” Peter finished. You stared at him for a long time but Peter couldn’t read your expression. You were definitely pensive but he didn’t know if you were upset with him or relieved to know the truth. You turned your face back towards the sunrise and stared out at it.
“Hm.” You hummed.
“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” Peter asked nervously.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about that part in the movie Alien when the two main characters get directions from that school of fish and all the fish take the shape of an arrow to show them which way to go.” You said very seriously. Peter shook his head before cracking up laughing.
“Wow. Ned must be on a roll because hearing my own joke repeated back to me makes me realize how unfunny it was.” He admitted, making you laughing.
“I still laughed.” You shrugged. “Even if it wasn’t funny.”
“You did.” He realized with a smile.
“Probably because I like you so much.” You shrugged again and stopped looking at the sunrise to look at him. Peters smile grew and he reached over to hand your hand in his. All that pining and anticipation had led to that moment of you finally admitted how you felt about each other.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Thats probably why.”
Tag list 🏷️
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#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker fluff#peter parker friends to lovers#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#Peter Parker best friends to lovers#peter parker x best friend!reader
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES
part two. | rich boy aven masterlist.
synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your first date with rich boy aventurine is more fun than you initially expected, who knows where things will go from there // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. fluff, slightly suggestive, rich boy au, reader wears a dress, flirty aventurine, a/n. this will have a part two if you can't tell, fem! reader ♡
you turn your face to the left and let your visual perception take in the luxurious casino you've been invited in— undeniably, your first reaction was dedicated to the chimes of whistles of various slot machines announcing wins and losses, in combined action with racketing noises of their shafts being pulled.
your jaw parts and your eyes grow, it felt surreal to stand here with an expensive dress hugging your body tight, a small gift from your date, nothing more, nothing less. rich boy aventurine slowly slides his palm over the back of your hand to lure your thoughts back to himself as he intertwines his fingers with your own.
you stiffen, it didn't take a genius to notice that you were slightly nervous about your first date with the infamous gambler. if only he would've picked a better place to get to know each other— alas, in a way it was exactly what you've expected.
well yes, aventurine choose the probably, most unromantic spot for a first date— but, you got a dress as a gift, together with an embellished necklace and a free entry to a luxurious, private casino.
so, did you really mind? hmm, not really. in fact, it was quite unique and exciting to be here, you also felt safe by his side, and especially intrigued to get to know more about his, quote on quote, playground.
men, or how people called them here; high rollers in pretentious suits, glide like sharks over the soft tumble of the dice. it's all very crowded and distracting, needless to say it was interesting to witness, but you notice how your heart was thumping faster, that's when you began to feel yourself getting difficulties to breathe evenly.
snugly pressed against aventurine, you walk past the shrill murmur of crowds and bells of roulette wheels as the gambler spins you towards his chest, his hand carrying on to hold yours gently, "are you okay? you look a little nervous," he says nonchalantly, although his handsome voice told you a different story, an affectionate perception, "our table is right there, we can take a seat and talk if you want. "
your gaze slowly shifts to where aventurine was pointing his head towards as you look at a large table right next to the exclusive sight of exquisite gold and silver fountains and statuaries. this must've cost a fortune, you were certain that this area alone was the most breathtaking one.
you awkwardly glare up at him, your breathing picking up on tempo, "of course, but..." your last note was drawn out as aventurine cocks a curious brow at you, "would it be okay to excuse myself for a bit?"
you continue shortly, fists balled, "it's a little stuffy here, you see, i'd love to take some fresh air without bothering you about it,"
in all honesty, the air was, well, utterly despicable. the lofty mixture of overpriced cologne and sweat penetrated your nostrils to the point where it began to ache and scratch your brain.
despite the fact that everything was overwhelming in its entirety.
being embarrassed by your human reactions might be an imprecise wording and false emotion to feel, you shouldn't feel bad about this. although you felt awkward and uneasy to ask aventurine if you could take a swift breather outside.
what if he found you to be boring now? or even worse, ungrateful when it was him who made it possible for you to see something like this in the first place.
a high class casino that could never be visited by the ordinary.
he looks at you through his glasses and you could swear his eyes had a mellow glow, a tender glimmer of serenity as his lips carve into a handsome smile, "oh of course, lets go right away so you won't get nauseous," he utters out, his stomach sitting heavy with lead and eagerness to look out for you.
you freeze for a second, "uh, wait, i really don't want to ruin this night for you," and sigh, letting your gaze wander around everywhere but his direction before tapping out a nervous rhythm against the soft marble on the floor.
all aventurine does was laugh airily, "you're adorable,"
"you're not ruining anything, in fact, you really couldn't, even if you tried,"
ugh, everything about you is just so pretty, you're sweet and angelic and he's glad he's bought this dress for you, it fits you like a second skin— aventurine takes note of your beauty, he stores it into the most important places in his brain so he could dream about you later.
memorize how this dress looks on you. closer and closer.
"but here, take my jacket, okay? it's rather cold," he flips his jacket down his shoulders before draping it over your own before suddenly closing the distance from his lips to your ear— silent, there's a voice next to your skin, it's deep, handsome and smoking hot. barely above an octave as it holds a teasing verge to it, "i wouldn't want you to catch a cold, yeah?"
you hum in agreement as you rest your hands above his clothed chest, butterflies storm through your belly and settle heavily inside as aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, his breath wafting around your lovely lips.
you felt the need to kiss him, and so did he, feel the same towards you. for a moment, you two linger feeling each others warmth a little longer, relishing in your precious attempts to getting to know each other better. it's slightly awkward, you could tell that aventurine noticed how your eyes were fighting the urge to keep admiring him.
yet, he's not complaining— he could never, not when you're so cute, and your touch on him was consistently warm, your trace firm but confident, content and safe.
he hopes you will enjoy yourself tonight, and maybe, only maybe, you will invite him over to your place later.
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x you#aventurine x you#hsr drabbles#honkai star rail drabbles
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Orange Peel Theory (Love and Deepspace Characters x Reader)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Synopsis: Where you tried the viral orange peel theory to your boyfriend
divider by @/cafekitsune
a/n: its been a while since I saw feedbacks and reblogs on my posts. I highly appreciate it if you could share your thoughts here. 🫶
❄️ Zayne ❄️
- The incredulous stare Zayne gave you after you asked him to peel you an orange is a bit insulting and…you admit kinda funny
- He is usually good at hiding his feelings on his face but it was so obvious that right at this moment he is thinking how weird you are and you're probably up to something. He’s just not sure if it's good or bad
- With that look, you have no choice but to give excuses, and one of it was you just got your nails done
- He frowned at that and insists on seeing your hands, not trusting your words, and you were so happy that you did actually went out and fix your nails at a nail salon as a reward to yourself
- After he saw your manicured nails, he gave out a troubled sigh, before he took the orange from your hand and started peeling
- You were so happy when he was finally done, but was surprised when he raise the orange out of your reach and grab a small plate and pick up the oranges and place it there neatly
- You watched as he raised his eyebrow when he saw you brimming with happiness as he set the saucer in your waiting hands
- He shook his head when he heard your chirp a thank you but you can see a hint of smile on his lips
“Did you hurt yourself? Show me your hands.”
🐚 Rafayel 🐚
- Rafayel scoffed, raised his eyebrow and asked what's your deal
- You tried your best not to laugh on the way he’s crossing legs and an obvious look of mistrust on his eyes. His sassiness is truly up there and you find it truly entertaining
- You were about to give an excuse when you heard him tuts and grab the orange from your hand, regardless of your reason
- However, while peeling, he will grumble and complain about you taking advantage of your boyfriend privileges
- You swallowed whatever mirth bubbling within you and you thanked him when he was finally done and was about to give back the newly peeled orange
- But, right in the middle of it, he stopped midair, pulled back the orange, pick it apart and said “aahh” asking you to open your mouth so he can feed you
- He probably saw your frown and gave meaningful smirk at your confusion
“Well, I wanted to take advantage of my girlfriend privileges too.”
🌟 Xavier 🌟
- You felt a bit bad when you noticed a little too late that Xavier had already dozed off on your couch when you asked him to sit down and wait for you
- While scrolling on your phone, you were so excited to do the viral orange peel theory on him but you’ve guessed you forgot how tiring his day must have been, since it's only been seconds when you asked him to stay so you can grab an orange in your kitchen but he is already fast asleep
- You were about to put the orange back and call it a day when you hear him mumble a soft “give me that” and you admit that startle you a bit
- You frown and stare at his sleeping form. Thinking you must have been tired yourself hearing a sleeping person talk, when he repeated himself again and although surprise, you gave him the orange, on his open palm that he raised
- Even with his eyes closed, he started peeling the orange little by the little, and he made you worried when his head tilted on the side, almost falling from sleepiness
- After perfectly peeling the orange, with no questions asked, and his mind already off to dreamland, you found yourself admiring Xavier and how lucky you are to have him
“Where is the orange?....I will peel it for you.”
#eydi andrius#love and deepspace#love and deepspace drabbles#love and deepspace imagines#xavier#zayne#rafayel#love and deepspace x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#love and deepspace x you#orange peel theory
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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - G.S.
Synopsis. He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, wild west! AU, cowboy! Satoru, mayor’s daughter! Reader, Satoru is SO DOWN BAD, angst, kinda slowburn, friends-to-lovers, bartender! Nanami, cunnilingus, oral sex (female + male receiving), unprotected sex, gun violence, pet names (m’lady, my love, + others), tumbleweed bandits, reader and Satoru are both going through stuff, Gege cameo, swearing, author’s daddy issues come out.
Word count. 12.1k (I’m scared)
A/N. You know how hard it was to make this all cowboy-y. Anyway that’s off the bucket list.
Art by @_3aem on X.
“So, you itchin’ for a beating from me or yer’ wife?”
Glowering down at the drunk old pervert as he waddled away in fear, you sigh as you dust down your heavy skirts. Typical. The sun beats down on your face as you look up at that familiar faded banner.
Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon
The only bar in your little town of Rustcliffe, and by default the only one around for miles. You hated this place - not the saloon, no, the handsome bartender there was always a sweetheart. But at some point, the comfort of your quaint old town had become too comfortable.
But that’s a story for another time. Right now, you were here to drag your father back home - per usual.
Rolling your eyes at the cacophony of drunken voices carrying from inside, you step through the dust-bitten swinging doors.
What hits you first is the stench of cheap alcohol, and then the inebriated camaraderie of the men around you. In the dim lighting of the saloon, you squeeze through the crowded tables and make your way to the bar.
Not a hair out of place, as usual, Nanami lights up when he spots you. “Well, it’s been a while. Here for the mayor again?” he speaks over the boisterous laughs around you.
You flash him a smile, “Yeah, you know my father. Fraternizin’ with the voters and all that.” you wave off your father’s excuse to come down here.
“Certainly takes his job very seriously.” Nanami chuckles, “You’ll find him over by the window, in the back.” he points.
Tipping your head in thanks, you walk the treacherous track to take your animated father home. When you come in view of his table, you find that he wasn’t alone. Damn, it was always harder to convince him to go when with other people.
You know your father has spotted you by his lively laugh and gleeful shouts, “Ah, my daughter! My beautiful daughter! Whatcha doin’ here? Come come! There’s someone I wan’ introduce you to.”
A smile slips out unintentionally at his almost-endearing pride. You mentally prepare yourself to say some awkward hellos to some of your father’s old drinking buddies before dragging him home.
Upon reaching your father, he immediately pulls you into a drunken embrace, wrapping his slightly rocky arm around your shoulders. “This is the daughter I was telling ya about! Prettiest girl in town! Hell, maybe even the country, knowin’ ma girl.” he prattles.
In his jovial state, he abruptly turns to face whoever he was drinking with, unsteady on his two feet. Probably another old geezer, you assume not taking your eyes off your father until you could make sure he won’t collapse on the bar floor for the third time this month.
Finally, you look up.
Your eyes meet blue.
Blue, blue summer skies.
To Satoru, you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you menacingly threatening that creep outside through the window, every word the mayor said went in one ear and he couldn’t even remember if it went out the other. Too entranced.
And when he introduced you as his daughter? Shit, it might just be fate.
“C’mon now boy! Cat got yer’ tongue? What happened to that sharp mouth of yours?”
The booming voice of your father snaps Satoru out of his captivation. Damn, he must’ve been staring for too long.
Mentally praying you weren’t spooked by his speechlessness, he finally speaks, voice slightly shaky at your presence, “Ah- Good day m’lady. Apologies for my impoliteness, the name’s Satoru Gojo.” he tips his crisp white hat. Gently grasping your hand in his, he places a delicate kiss, looking up at you as he awaits your response.
You gaze, slightly awe-struck, at his ethereally beautiful white locks and the impish grin from where he held your hand. His lips were so soft.
“Oh!” you startle at the clap of your father’s hand on your shoulder. Shit, you were definitely staring too long. Rushing to introduce yourself, you quickly interject a “Nice to meet you, Satoru” before your father starts leading the conversation once more.
“Satoru here is a traveler, arrived jus’ today! Told him people like us could never, I mean imagine, right?” he slurs.
Your ears perk up at this piece of information, “Oh? Are you really a traveler, Satoru? How admirable.” you gush, previous bashfulness forgotten. Was that…a blush spreading across his face? Couldn’t be - your town's whiskey was known to give people rosy cheeks on occasion.
“Thank you, m’lady. It’s nothing special really, jus’ staying here a while.” he barely gets the words out before you father bellows a tangent - “Don’ be shy, boy! How wondrous traveling is, kids these days could use some toughening up!”
Both of you rush to catch your father as he sways with a passion seen only during election rallies. It takes the two of you to steady the man. As he continues babbling half-lucidly, you cock your head sweetly at Satoru, “Help me take him outside?”
Satoru thinks his knees might give out then and there.
The air is chilly by the time the three of you step outside, sun making its way below the horizon. Despite your father’s protests that he can ride home on his own, he knocks out as soon as Satoru gracefully mounts him on his horse. Carefully saddling behind him, you try to make sure your father doesn’t fall off of Satoru’s beautiful white Quarter horse.
“You really don’t have to escort us home, Satoru. My ol’ man wouldn’t even feel it if he fell, I swear.” you insist as Satoru holds onto the reins from the ground, feeling bad for bothering him.
“It’s no trouble. After all, Gege seems to like him very much, hm?” Satoru remarks as he turns to his stallion, who attempts to bite him in response, “Can’t say the same for myself.”
“Hmm, how can I be sure yer’ not a serial killer?” you tease, reveling in the sharp laugh it draws from him.
“You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me, m’lady.” he hums, eyes sparkling with mirth. There’s a lull in the conversation as Satoru pulls on the reins to start walking you down the road, the rhythmic clip-clop! of the horse filling the still air.
“So you travel?”
“This is a nice town.”
Both of you speak at once, anxious to fill the silence, only to sputter self-consciously.
“You can-”
“No no, it’s only customary for a lady to go first.” he hums, looking up at you.
“Tell me stories of your travels.” you breathe out, eager for any crumb of escape from your little town.
As you made your way home to the sprawling family ranch, the night adorned itself with twinkling stars that matched the mischievous glint in Satoru’s eyes as he told you bizarre tales from his life on the road.
“IN MY DEFENSE, it was dark an’ that tumbleweed was shaped suspiciously like a lowly bandit. Hey- don’t laugh- it was a very heated standoff!” Satoru exclaims animatedly as you cackle.
“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, cowboy. Even bandits woulda run away from your clownery.” delighted at the way the moonlight illuminates the blush that tinges his ears.
Making a fool of himself, Satoru’s stories have you laughing until your cheeks hurt, wishing you could experience them too. You almost forget about your father’s deafening snores and the bite of the wind.
But Satoru does not. Brows furrowing as he catches your slight shiver, he mentally berates himself for forgetting his manners. How dare he let a lady suffer the cold while he still had his fuckin’ coat! What a sorry excuse for a cowboy, this is worse than that time he accidentally lassoed a rattlesnake.
Hastily shrugging his coat off, he passes it to you with a sheepish smile on his face.
Face heating up against the cold draft, you breathe in the smell of pine, amber, and something so Satoru. Clearly not as affected as you are, Satoru launches back into his stories.
If Satoru thought his knees were going to give out before then he knows they’re about to now. He aims to keep his eyes steadfast on the road as he recalls his endeavors, because he’s aware that even one glance at you all wrapped up in his coat wouldn’t be too good for him.
Making out the warm lights in the distance, his heart falls as he realizes his time with you is drawing to an end. You seem to share similar sentiments, as you sigh silently.
Once again, a silence falls upon you two (well, three if your slumbering father counted) - but this time, it was serene. You could almost drift to sleep if it wasn’t for your mother’s frantic calls for you from the front porch.
“Oh, darlin’, I was so worried! I didn’t think it would be so late out!” she frets as Satoru helps you get down from his horse. Hands on your waist searing into your skin.
Clearly awoken due to the commotion, your dad stumbles his way down and towards your red brick villa.
“Ah, honey! I’m home…somehow…you know, I met the most interesting fella Something-toru. A wanderer, real interesting.” turning comically to Satoru, he exclaims in delight “Something-toru! How didya get ‘ere?”
Stifling his laughs, Satoru backs away, claiming he had to leave before your father roped him into more rounds of drinks. Which clearly didn’t work because your mother approaches him, “Stay, Satoru, stay! Can’t have you sleepin’ underneath some tree when you escorted our darling daughter all the way out here.”
Any refusals are immediately blocked out by your very inebriated father yelling out in agreement, claiming he wanted to listen to more of Satoru’s “funny lil’ stories”. Your parents head inside - well, more like your mother heads inside with your father in tow - having taken his speechlessness for agreement.
As you follow, you turn to Satoru, a strange part of you gleeful at the fact you won’t have to part with him for now. “We’ve got an extra room, and it’s got yer’ name on it. The stablehand will stall Gege, c’mon, it’ll be a lot better than the ground.” you grin.
“Hey! The ground can be very comfortable.” Satoru declares defensively, yet follows you inside anyway.
It’s only rushed goodbyes and promises to talk tomorrow morning as the housemaids fuss around Satoru. “Goodnight m’lady.” he’d winked as your head housekeeper clutched her pearls at his dirty boots on her recently polished hardwood floors.
That night, as you lay in your childhood bed, you realize that you still have Satoru’s coat on. Whether from his coat or something else entirely that you did not want to explore, you felt so warm inside.
---
Morning dawns with the symphony of the Western meadowlark that nudges you gently awake - usually. Today, it’s abruptly shattered as the door bursts open and someone barges into your room. Judging by the thud of hefty boots, you knew very well who it was.
“Rise n’ shine, m’lady!” Satoru’s voice - way too cheerful for six in the morning - chirps out.
It’s been a few days since Satoru has been staying with you. Now more a friend than a guest, you expect he’s come to wake you up for a morning ride with Gege, watching the sun rise as you exchange silly banter. But it’s so early…
“What do you want, Something-toru.” you grumble out from in-between your comfy covers. You secretly delight at his whines of “How dare you not remember my name, I even told you about the rattlesnake lasso!”
The warmth of your bed and the melody of Satoru’s voice has you sluggishly falling back asleep - that’s before he promptly sits on your bed. The force of it bouncing you both, making you sit up with a laugh.
Satoru was on your bed.
Satoru was on your bed. Shit, after what your father told him this morning, he wouldn’t blame you if you kicked him out with a punch to his pretty nose right this second. Mentally slapping himself a million times over, he hurriedly gets out the reason he was sent in to wake you up in the first place, “Ah- Um, the mayor is meeting with…someone important, wanted you to come down and meet him. Well, if tha’s all then I’ll be going, Gege won’t brush himself, sadly.”
And before you could get another word out, he’s swiftly out the door.
Satoru was on your bed. Your cheeks slightly heat up as you realize you didn’t mind?
His words ring in your ears as you get ready for the day - if it was someone important, then you might as well dress to impress. Impress someone else too. Shaking off these strange thoughts from your mind, you make your way downstairs, nose wrinkling at the smell of tobacco that greets you.
You’ve always hated the stench of the overpriced tobacco your father brings out to impress guests. “There she is! My daughter!” your father smiles, beckoning you over. “There’s someone who’s here to see you.”
Grimacing at the cloud of smoke, you take a seat on the plush sofa beside your father. He gestures at the man seated in front of him, “This here is Naoya.”
Despite his sharply handsome features, you shift uncomfortably at the way he watches you like a predator appraising his prey, eyes following your every movement. Apparently approving of what he saw, his lips curl into a smirk, “Your future husband.” he says saccharinely sweet.
What the fuck?
“Father?” you panickedly turn to him for answers, voice strained at your attempt to keep it even. But your father merely guffaws out a laugh, “Well well, nothing confirmed just yet. But you know with the way things are going with the re-election, might as well get to know a suitor and...” his voice trails off as he takes another puff of his cigar.
“My apologies sir, I refuse.” you drone out, looking straight at Naoya. You don’t miss the way his smirk grows leeringly as he mutters “You don’t have too much of a say in this matter, sweetcheeks.” The audacity.
Apparently your father doesn’t hear, a more grave expression taking over his face, “Now I’ve talked with Naoya, you’re of marriageable age. And as young as I feel, I won’t be around forever. You need someone to take care of you, dear. We’ve talked about this.”
Tears prick at your eyes as you abruptly stand up, disturbing the smoke around you. “I can take care of myself.” you spit out venomously, storming your way to the heavy front door in an attempt to run away from this situation.
In the dim sunlight filtering through the curtains, Naoya watches in amusement as you stomp out of the room. Hilarious, the feisty ones were always the best.
Over the mayor’s ramble of apologies, he grins “No don’t worry about that. She’ll be mine either way.”
The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as you slam it shut, echoing your frustration. The brisk air is a temporary relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside.
“Talked about this” your ass. Every conversation - if you can even call them that - was a heated warning about being married off before you end up a spinster. You couldn’t care less about ending up alone if it didn’t mean living life with a man that talked to you like that.
Your thoughts block out the crunch of the gravel beneath your boots as your feet subconsciously lead you to the stables, where you used to play hide-and-seek as a kid. More recently, though, it has become an escape from conversations like these.
Approaching its familiar wooden doors, you catch a glimpse of Satoru, back turned and meticulously grooming Gege.
Sensing your presence, he turns with an easy smile that quickly fades as he notices the deep furrow of your brows. “Hey there, m’lady. Everything alrigh’?” cerulean eyes flit across your face worriedly.
“Oh yeah, everything’s great. Just got introduced to my absolute asshat of a future husband.” as if Satoru’s concerned expression makes something in you snap, the words tumble out along with your tears.
“I don’t even- The way he looked at me- Can you even believe?”
Satoru was about to rip apart whoever this load of horse manure was that made tears streak down your pretty face. Throwing his brush down - which Gege didn’t quite appreciate - he quickly envelopes you in his arms, letting you muffle your sobs.
“Hey hey. It’ll be alright, we’ll work something out. I promise, m’lady.” he consoles.
Eventually, as your cries die down, you look up to see the rising sun casting a soft glow on Satoru’s features, illuminating the sincerity in his gaze.
The determined glint in his eyes emboldens you, “Yer’ right, I will not be forced into a marriage, especially with someone like Naoya. I’m not anyone’s property.”
A subtle warmth is present in Satoru’s gaze as he utters, “Tha’s my girl.” before reeling back and backtracking immediately, “Ah! I mean- good for you m’lady. Naoya ain’t the one. Anyway, tell me about this ‘asshat’.”
You raise a brow teasingly at his rapid change of demeanor, before plopping down on the hay, launching into your first impression of Naoya and why the rumors downtown of him making babies cry were probably true.
The sun shines high in the sky as you lay there in peaceful silence, only to be broken by the doubt weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m scared.” you admit.
Satoru turns from his place beside you from the hay, “It’s alright, you got Gege and myself beside you. If Naoya ain’t the one then he ain’t the one.”
Your eyes meet his twinkling gaze, “Yeah, he’s not the one.”
The air grows charged with something unspoken as the silence stretches out. Satoru can feel the tips of his ears burning at your words - stop it Satoru, she didn’t mean anything by it. As always, he retreats into humor to break the crackling silence.
“I’d help you hide the body, y’know. Then you can have a shotgun wedding with whoever you want to share your days with.”
“Oh yeah? What if he turns out just like that asshat?” you challenge.
“Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away with me. Fightin’ tumbleweeds together.” Satoru makes light of the situation, in an attempt to etch that beautiful smile on your face once more. It works, as you throw your head back and laugh.
“Yeah, I’d love that.” you get out in-between giggles.
If someone looked at you like Satoru did, you probably wouldn’t mind marrying them. A voice whispers in the back of your mind, sending your brows furrowing once again.
Meanwhile, Satoru finally had a name for your future not-husband - Naoya.
Urgently getting up and removing the hay stuck to your clothes once you hear your housemaids calling for you, you leave Satoru with a grateful smile that had him swooning out loud immediately after the stable door shut - to the very visible judgment of Gege.
It felt like a knife in his chest when the mayor tittered secretly to him about your future husband this morning, thoughts of you getting married plaguing his mind all morning. Well, if you were happy then it’s fine, isn’t it?
He was halfway through imagining you in a beautiful dress of white when you’d arrived with a cloudy expression covering your gorgeous features. If Satoru had thought hearing about your fiancé was like being stabbed, then the despair on your face made him feel like he was completely cleaved in half.
You deserve someone that deserves you. Probably not him. Certainly not Naoya.
Walking back to the house to fetch his riding gloves, he’s lost in the thoughts of standing off against a faceless man calling himself your husband when he bumps into somebody.
“My apolog- Asshat?” Satoru blurts out at the man testily raising a brow at him.
“Excuse you, barn boy?” he fumes, at the nickname that slips by. Ah, he’s done it now. Lips tweaking into a forced smile, Satoru grits out, “Ah, apologies, sir. Cowboy tendencies.”
The air is tense as Naoya mutters, “Keep those to yourself.” He moves to walk past Satoru, before stopping close enough to utter words meant for only him to hear, “And stay away from my future bride. I saw the hay on her skirt, yer’ insane to think you’d have a chance, barn boy. Go back to wanderin’ around.”
Satoru stands rooted to the spot as Naoya walks off, too many emotions he can’t name whirling inside him. That morning, he stalks off for his longest ride since arriving at Rustcliffe - not coming back with Gege until well after midnight.
---
To Satoru, long rides always mean interesting dreams. Right now he was in a tap-dancing competition against a one-eyed alligator who looked suspiciously like your father. It’s a shame - he was winning too - that the competition is suddenly crashed by an angel calling for him.
“Satoru…Satoru!”
An angel that sounded like…you?
“Satoru if you don’t wake up I’m feedin’ your boots to Gege.”
His eyes shoot open, yet his sleep-addled brain still struggles to process you standing over his bed, soft hands shaking his bare shoulders lightly. “Angel?” he rasps out.
You huff out a laugh, “No, I’m here to drag you to hell - or close enough at least.”
Face burning at already making a fool of himself before noon, he sits up in bed, blanket sliding off to reveal his toned upper-half.
Shit, it should be illegal to casually have a body like that.
Trying your best to avert your eyes from the dips and curves of his sculpted body, you continue, “My father’s holdin’ Rustcliffe’s annual Harvest Hoedown in a few weeks, the whole town’s gonna be there. You made it just in time for some dancing lessons.”
“What makes you think I need dancing lessons?” Satoru raises a brow playfully. You take a brief moment to admire the way his sleep-tousled hair curtains his alluring eyes, before replying in an ominous tone, “I need dancing lessons.”
Wow, you really did need dancing lessons, Satoru notes as he stifles a laugh when you step on the poor instructor’s foot for the fifth time this afternoon.
Locked in the stuffy studio, he recalls the way your father demanded that you not step one foot outside until you mastered the upbeat waltz for the hoedown - putting Satoru in charge of making sure you don’t slip away. “It’s stupid really, he’s never had a problem with me sitting out before. All because that asshat will be there…” you’d muttered hotly on the way.
Ah yes, that asshat. Sleep weighs heavily on Satoru’s eyes from riding all night long, yet his words still ring painfully in his ears. Who did he even think he was to have a chance with you?
Well, it’s alright, Satoru will be out of this town in a few months, and you’ll marry some man of your choice that could give you everything you could ever want.
The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his overthinking tirade is the abrupt pause of the music and the heavy sigh the dance instructor lets out - clearly having taken a break for his own sake rather than yours. You shuffle sheepishly across the polished floor to where Satoru stands, “Was it worse than you thought?” you grimace.
“Well, you always do find a way to surprise me, m’lady” he teases, chuckling at your dramatic groan. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the instructor rushing outside for a smoke. Hopefully not because of your dancing…
You scoff in defense as Satoru’s cackles grow louder - having thought the same thing. “Well, I’m sure the great Something-toru is much better on his feet.”
Instead of retorting, he steps one heavy boot onto the waxy dance floor, holding out a hand expectantly. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”
“But, there’s no music?” you raise a brow, yet you place your hand in his much larger ones. Soft, his hands were surprisingly soft. And so warm.
“Did I mention I was a great singer too?” he grins, a small dimple at the corner of his mouth as he pulls you closer.
Shit, it was way too hot to be cooped up in a dance studio. Or maybe it was just Satoru’s hand around your waist, making your skin burn through your heavy skirts. They flow around you as he glides you gently across the floor.
You train your eyes steadily on your feet - partly out of necessity, and partly out of fear of meeting Satoru’s intense gaze.
The only sounds filling the small studio were the squeaks of your boots and Satoru’s soft humming of a nonexistent tune. It was beautiful, his voice. It reminded you of calm summer days.
“Ah- sorry!” you panic as you step on his toe, only for him to pause his melody and huff out a laugh.
“Step on them as much as you want, m’boots are thick.”
You’re sure he meant this only to bate your embarrassment, but something about his words and the warm endearment in his gaze have your cheeks heating up. You focus on your steps in silence as he guides you patiently, tenderly.
Pride grows in your chest as you start stepping on his boots every six steps instead of two. Satoru seems to have noticed too, “Hey! You’ve improved, m’lady.” he whispers, as if afraid to break the stillness in that humid room as you two continue your silent dance.
Loud clapping from the doorway makes you two jump apart, shattering the serene bubble you’ve found refuge in. “Brilliant! I thought I’d come across my first hopeless case, yet you’ve worked absolute wonders Mr. Satoru!”
Your escape is quick, you urgently drag Satoru out the door before he can be forcibly recruited as a dance teacher.
You heave out a sigh of relief at your freedom from the treacherous clutches of the dance studio. Merciless sunlight stinging your face, you begin to make your way through the dusty hustle and bustle of Rustcliffe in the afternoon.
Now, all you had to do was avoid bumping into your father for the rest of the day and you should be fine!
Speed-walking by Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, you’re confused when you’re faced with a few more drunken stares than usual. Surely your new skirt can’t be that flattering?
With a jolt, you realize you’re still grasping Satoru’s warm hand in his. Dropping it as if it burned, your cheeks heat up at the mirth on his features. “Not that I’m complainin,” he grins, “but warn a guy next time you manhandle him. S’not good for the heart, m’lady.”
Rolling your eyes at his joke, you begin pointing out the things to see as you walk the familiar old roads of Rustcliffe, detailing the town gossip.
It really was not good for his heart, Satoru was sure he’ll drop dead very soon one of these days because of you.
He couldn’t rip his eyes off of you as you animatedly talked about granny Wei wrestling Mrs. Davidson for her secret brownie recipe.
Shit, he was really getting in too deep.
Night falls fast, a deep shade of blue.
Saying your goodbyes to Nanami at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon - at a time you knew your father wouldn’t be around - your heart swells as Satoru excitedly rambles about “Good ol’ Nanamin! What a chip off the old block, we became fast friends y’know?”
You didn’t expect your mission to avoid your father to turn into an impromptu Rustcliffe tour. But watching Satoru’s face light up as you told him silly little stories of your childhood, you wouldn’t have changed it one bit.
Sent off with a cheery “Come back soon deary!”, you’re exhausted by the time you say all your goodbyes to the people of the town.
“You’re loved, y’know?” Satoru speaks up out of nowhere as you steady yourself behind him on the saddle.
“Hm?” you ask, fatigued from spending the day walking around town. A large hand caresses your cheek to rest your head against his back, tightening your arms around his waist.
Lightly snapping the reins, he repeats, “You’re loved.”
You drift on his words gently to sleep, the clip-clop! of the horse matching the deafening beat of your heart against your ribcage. If only you could be like this forever.
SLAM!
You wake up with a start, only to find yourself…hovering? Surely there must be a valid explanation - you really didn’t feel like doing an exorcism right now.
It takes a while of your nonsense to realize you’re being carried by strong arms supporting your back and legs.
“S-Satoru?” you ask blearily.
“Shhh, forgive me, m’lady. Didn’t think that damn door would be so loud.” he responds, bed creaking under his weight as he softly sets you down.
Smiling down at your incoherent mumbles, he whispers softly “It’s alrigh’, you can rest now. Goodnight m’lady.”
Struggling to rip his gaze from your gracefully sleep-addled one, it’s only the thought of someone in the house catching him in this position that makes him stand up.
A hand - uncharacteristically swift - grasps his wrist, stopping his tip-toeing to the door. “Satoru…” your groggy call of his name sends shivers down his spine. Hesitatingly following the gentle pull of your hand, he kneels beside your bed.
“Yes, m’lady?” he breathes.
You surge forward, sleep hazing the practical side of your mind. Acting on pure instinct, your soft lips meet his.
Satoru freezes in surprise as a beat passes. One. Two.
He stays in the same position when you flop back onto your pillow, soft snores filling the otherwise pin-drop silence. His lips burn as he brings up a hand to touch them in disbelief, stifling an euphoric laugh.
You startle awake in the middle of the night, after some questionable dream about Satoru carrying you to the bed and you kissing him.
Imagine. Ha!
Settling back into where you were carefully tucked into bed, you snuggle the warm coat at your side.
Wait. Shit.
---
If either of you remembered what happened that night, neither of you mentioned it.
Oftentimes, you questioned whether it was a dream. The only thing keeping you from fully believing so being the intensity in Satoru’s stare whenever his eyes briefly flickered to your lips and the hasty retreats whenever it seemed like you would bring up the topic.
But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?
In fear of messing up the comfortable camaraderie you two had, you continued this magnetic dance of normalcy. But honestly could you really consider it “normal” if each gaze was charged with something neither of you could describe?
But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?
You could only imagine the worst.
Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Well, probably a bit below heaven, because - ideally - there you’d be his wife and Gege would actually like him.
It’s alright, even if just for a sleep-hazed second, he was yours. And he didn’t want to hear you apologize for it.
Still riding the euphoria of that brief kiss, he goes about life as usual, sure that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels.
---
“WELCOME ALL TO RUSTCLIFFE ANNUAL HARVEST HOEDOWN! WE GOT HARVEST, WE GOT HORSES, WE GOT SOME HOE- Oh- what? yes, dear that was on my script…” your father’s voice bellows across town from the loudspeaker.
You breathe in the warm, candy-scented air, fairy lights illuminating the colorful stalls selling everything from candied apples to binoculars (“Spy On Your Neighbors Without Worry!”).
Place ringing with the bustle and chatter of the town, you think it feels like something out of a picture book.
A warm smile finds its way onto your face, you’ve loved the Harvest Hoedown since you were a kid. Here, you can forget the longing for something more, the rows at home about your looming engagement, and most of all - you can almost forget Satoru.
Ever since that kiss, you’ve found it hard to face him. Sure, the banter and half-joking schemes to murder Naoya are the same. But your heart clenches every time he looks at you with a tender melancholy, losing the words to apologize for taking advantage of his kindness.
“Come come! It’s startin’!” you hear gleefully from your left. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re pulled into a circle of bodies dancing to an upbeat tune.
Laughter bubbling out of you as you lose yourself in the song, you turn to your right and see…your dance instructor, who is very visibly (and audibly) praying for his feet. Dramatic. You’ve learned a lot recently with Satoru’s help.
Oh, there he is again. For someone that leaves place so swiftly, he sure is set on living permanently in your mind.
Hidden amongst the audience, Satoru cackles at the distress on Mr. Dance Instructor’s face. Little did he know, with a bit of Satoru’s magic you’ve improved - stepping on his toes only once every fifteen steps!
He was so proud of his girl.
Ah, except you’re not. You’re so much more. And he’s reminded of that every time you averted your eyes from his during dance lessons, the proximity of your bodies doing nothing for how out of reach you felt to him.
He rips his gaze from you, walking away from the growing crowd. Where was that damn drinks table again?
It’s past twelve as the townsfolk start pairing up for the hoedown couples dancing. You’ve usually sat this one out, not one for the complicated steps nor the intimacy.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spy your parents waltzing in their own world. How nice it must be. Your supposed asshat of a dance partner was over by the drinks talking with some men, barely looking your way.
Guess the dance lessons were for nothing. Frustrated and slightly tipsy, you move to make your way off the dance floor.
Suddenly, a large hand blocks your view of the exit. Who the-
Satoru.
Ears tinged a pretty red, and eyes slightly dazed, he hiccups over the rich music “Would you- dance with me, m’lady?”
Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the way his face flushed your favorite delicate pink - but you slide your hand into his warm one, “I’d be honored to, Satoru.”
A strong arm pulling you flush against his body, faces only inches apart. His hot breath fans you as Satoru murmurs, “Looked s’beautiful tonight. Best dancer in town I’d say.”
“Only cuz’ of you, Satoru.” you chuckle at his genuine tone as he steers you across the dance floor. Feet in perfect sync, the waltz fades into the background as you look into his tired eyes.
“Nah, tha’s all you, m’lady. I’m nothing much.” he grins morosely.
Your brows furrow at his words, clearly something was wrong. And this wasn’t the place to talk about it. “Come with me.” you utter, pulling him along with you to a place you knew he’d love.
Little ol’ Rustcliffe wasn’t called that for nothing.
The air is tense, the chatter of crickets fill the silence between you two as you guide him to your haven, hand still tightly in his. It’s a steep walk uphill from the outskirts of town, a place you’d stumbled upon during one dashing attempt to escape from this town as a tween.
“Finally here.” you exhale as you reach your destination, fireflies lighting the way.
“Hah- If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were tryin’ to murder-” Satoru’s voice dies in his throat as he drinks in the view before him.
The twinkling lights of the entire town of Rustcliffe reflect in his eyes like constellations. Townsfolk barely discernible from this distance, yet the soft jovial music carried over. It was beautiful.
Satoru looks at you in awe as you lay down on the ground and point upwards, “Tha’s not all, cowboy.”
Quickly getting on the ground beside you - albeit at a safe distance - his mouth gapes wider at the perfect carpet of stars above him. A celestial version of what he saw below. He turns his head to see you bathed in the moonlight. This place was beautiful.
“Satoru, are we okay?‘ you voice out in concern. He’s taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. You cut off his scramble to make a joke, “I’m serious. Please talk to me.”
He can never win against you.
Heaving out a sigh, “Maybe. Who knows. But whatever it is, please don’t apologize for that kiss, let me have it.”
Now it’s your turn to be surprised, “Let you have it? Satoru, why wouldn’t you have it?”
“M’lady, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re like fireworks. Captivating and fierce. That kiss was a mistake, and soon enough you’ll find a rich, handsome-”
“I only want you.”
“I’m leaving soon.” he retorts.
“I only want you.” you repeat, stubbornly.
“I’m leaving m’lady.” he argues.
“No- Satoru-”
“And I’m childish. I’m insecure. I’ll never be able to provide for you the way you deserve.” he plows on, emotion cracking his voice.
“Satoru, I love you.” you breathe out.
Satoru’s breath catches in his throat, the silence was deafening. “What was that?” he turns, voice quiet with disbelief.
“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, cowboy, but you’re like blue summer skies. And I just so happen to love blue summer skies.” you huff out, finally understanding the reason for his behavior these past few weeks.
“I don’t expect a huge mansion, or some enormous ranch, or even a cowboy that knows the difference between a lasso and a rattlesnake. I just don’t want anyone else, Satoru.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes.”
“And…you’re sure? Really sure?”
“Yes.”
Silence punctures your conversation once more, broken only by a loud cackle. You turn in disbelief at his change in demeanor, “All cheered up now, Satoru?”
“Why would you have feelings for me? Was it the tumbleweed story that did it for you?” he gets out through laughs. It was contagious, and soon enough you yourself joined him, clutching your stomach.
In the thoughtful silence that follows, you find yourself inching closer to him until your faces are mere centimeters apart. “Blue summer skies and fireworks don’t go too well together.” he breathes.
“We’ll make something work out, remember?” you hum.
Your first kiss with Satoru was a sleep-addled mistake.
The second was when his lips capture yours as if they were the source of life itself.
Rolling on top of you, he’s careful to not rest his full weight as his lips don’t leave you, tongue caressing yours. Satoru tastes sweet - like hard candy and your father’s bottle of Baileys. Pulling away a hair's breadth, he whispers against your lips, “Let me be yours?”
“You probably say this to all the girls, hm?” you tease him, as revenge for making you wait so long. He softly bites your lips in retaliation, relishing in your drawn-out whine. “Yes, fine. If only you’ll let me be yours.”
Clearly approving of your answer, he continues his dance with your lips. Barely parting to breathe, as if it hurt to leave you.
And it did. A low groan sounds from the back of his throat as Satoru kisses you with the desperation from these past few weeks. His hands stayed firmly cupping your face, as if scared to move elsewhere. Yours, however, was wandering the expanse of his back, and it was driving him insane.
“M’lady…” he breathes out at the feeling of your legs wrapping around his hips, a warning.
You knew where this was going and you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything so bad. “Satoru, I need you.” you mutter, words punctuated by pecks to his swollen lips.
Maybe that’s the trigger that sets him off. It’s not long before Satoru is kissing you again. Pinning down your arms with one hand, he rolls his hips into yours. You gasp as you feel the outline of his hard cock straining against his trousers.
He was so big.
Your pussy drips with anticipation and fear of what was about to come.
Satoru thinks he might be getting whiplash, how was it that an hour ago he was moping in his loneliness and now he’s got you underneath him? Silently thanking whoever was up there, he wanders a hand down your body. Fingers trailing teasingly above where you wanted him the most.
“Tell me what you want, m’lady.” he rasps. Now Satoru is sure he’s getting whiplash when you grind your hips up into his hand, whining “Need you- on me.”
Skirts hastily pushed up, Satoru shuffles so his face is right hovering right above your pulsing core. In the cool moonlight, he can see the way you get wetter at each hot breath on your cunt. “Please Satoru.”
You were not good for his heart. Surging forward so he’s nose-deep in your pussy, Satoru’s tongue flattens against your swollen folds. His eyes roll to the back of his at your taste. You tasted better than the candy at the hoedown.
Your desperate whines for more send blood rushing to his cock, twitching achingly against his trousers. Leisurely dipping between your folds, he watches with blown-out eyes as you grind your hips deeper into his face, keeping a firm grip on his soft locks. Using him.
Shit, if this was your reaction to him teasing you…
Your whimpers of pleasure and lewd squelches of your cunt fill the night air as he plunges his tongue inside your clenching hole, fucking you at a merciless rhythm. His brows furrow as his tongue dips in and out relentlessly. He sinfully loves the burn of his scalp as you pull his hair to angle him just right.
Thumb harshly circling your clit, Satoru thinks he loses a bit of his sanity at every moan of his name that leaves your pretty mouth. “You taste s’good. So perfect for me, m’lady.” his voice sends vibrations to your pussy that have you feeling your heartbeat banging in two places.
“Hngh- Satoru, don’ stop!” you mewl as his nose catches on your clit, clamping down on his tongue. He continues his movements, breathing you in so sinfully. Air was overrated - Satoru Gojo, famously daring traveler and devilishly handsome, dies here between your legs. He wouldn’t even mind.
“Cum in my mouth, m’lady. Please.” he begs, voice muffled by your dripping cunt. He locks eyes with your fucked out ones as he pulls you by the thighs impossibly closer to him. He never wanted to part.
The stimulation of his voice in addition to his fingers and tongue becomes too much. “Satoru! Hah- M’ gonna cum-”
Tears spring to your eyes as you cum all around Satoru’s tongue. He doesn’t let up his harsh abuse of your pulsing pussy, groaning as he laps up your juices - your slick pooling at the corner of his mouth.
He was so greedy for you. Shit, this is so much better than he’s imagined every night he’s fucked his fist in that lonely room.
As both of you attempt to catch your breaths, the chattering song of crickets and distant music from the Harvest Hoedown fill the air once more. Satoru looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes that has your cunt twitching once more.
You’d felt his rock-hard length. And you wanted it now.
“Satoru. let me feel you in my mouth, please.” you murmur. Kneeling before him, you look up at him with eager eyes. At his slow nod, you give an experimental squeeze to the large imprint of his cock, thighs rubbing together at Satoru’s drawn-out hiss.
“Oh, m’lady. You drive me insane.” he groans.
Cursing the heavy trousers that cowboys wear, you fumble it down his legs. Muscles, creamy thighs come into your view, making your mouth water.
In the dim lighting, you see the precum drip down Satoru’s flushed cock. The prominent vein down his side glistens prominently. Shit, he’d never fit in your mouth let alone your cunt. But you wanted it so bad.
Satoru’s heavy breaths sound in the still air as your bruised lips inch closer to his throbbing cock. A deep breath, and you spit on his blushing head, saliva dripping down the side of his length and to where you gently grasped his base.
It was filthy, it was debauched. You absolutely loved it.
Satoru lets out a strangled moan as you flatten your tongue and take his tip into your mouth, sucking gently. He bucks his hips into your mouth as you run your tongue along his sensitive slit “Shit- Sorry, m’lady. You’re just hah- too good.”
Popping off his aching cock, you press kisses to the side of his length. He groans lowly at the vibrations as you speak about something that has been on your mind for a while now, “Satoru, don’t you think we’re past formalities now?”
“Well, I could call you my goddess?” he smiles. “Or my angel? Or-” Satoru chokes on his words as you take him fully into your mouth - partly because you needed him to shut up, and partly because you cunt ached with need.
“Sh-shit. Jus’ like that.” he rasps as you suck him at a dizzying pace. Precum drips down the side of your mouth as you take him in deeper - nose meeting the snowy white hair on his pelvis.
Your mouth burns at the stretch, his hips grinding lightly into your mouth to meet each bob of your head. Your pussy drips once more at how desperate Satoru was.
His mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you move to take his tight balls into your mouth. You admire the dazed look in his darkened eyes. “Oh god- I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum in your mouth, m’lady.” he murmurs, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you continue your ruthless pace.
As soon as your lips are around his cock once more, Satoru comes fast and hard with a gravelly moan. Hot spurts of his seed dribble down the corner of your mouth as you take it all in.
Ah, this wasn’t what you had planned when you brought him here - but you sure weren’t complaining.
Satoru just about passes out when you stick out your tongue to show you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he gave, cock twitching once more. He needed you in a way that would make a hooker blush.
Finding his voice, “As much as I’d love to ravish you right here, m’lady, I think you deserve somethin’ a bit more comfortable.” He swats at a mosquito attacking him as you grin devilishly.
---
Gege has never flown across the dry ground of Rustcliffe faster.
Wind in your hair and Satoru’s arms warmly around your middle, you feel the thundering of his heartbeat against your back - matching your own. You admire his moonlit profile, the light casting an otherworldly glow over his cloud-like hair. You could probably go anywhere if it was by his side.
You’ve never been happier to see that familiar ol’ ranch.
Navigating your sprawling villa, you find, is close to impossible with a relentless Satoru pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.
“Satoru…we gotta make it to the bed.” you giggle, drunk off of him rather than the liquor from before. He sighs impatiently, before promptly lifting you off of your feet. His hat and hip holster falling to god-know-where as he runs up the stairs to your bedroom with you in his arms.
The thud of heavy boot echoes throughout the empty house - your parents still at the Harvest Hoedown. It reminds you of the night you first kissed him. As he slams your door shut and pushes you against it, however, you never in your wildest dreams would have thought that it’ll lead to this.
Tongue tangling with Satoru’s, feet still not reaching the ground. You don’t think you’ll make it out of this alive. Nor will Satoru.
Satoru is definitely not making it out alive.
He’s barely stepped a foot into your bedroom before he’s got his hands all over you - groping and teasing every inch of your body he can find. Your legs wrapped around him, he holds you in the air, hands roughly squeezing your ass.
His lips don’t leave yours, tasting himself on your tongue - even as he bunches your skirts around your hips. Exhaling in relief as his hands meet your bare lips, he holds a finger to your pulsing core.
You whimper at the feeling, still sensitive from before. He drinks in your mewls of pain and pleasure, lips curling into a smug smile. “Still sensitive, m’lady? You poor thing. How will you take my cock if yer’ like this?”
Your groan of impatience turns into a panicked whine as Satoru moves towards the bed, “Maybe we should tuck you in bed for now? Continue this tomorrow?”
Reading the challenge in his eyes, you immediately free yourself from his hold. His confused gaze soon turns into a surprised one as you push him roughly onto the bed, straddling him after.
“You always do surprise me.” he laughs out between the magnetic kisses you leave on his lips. Buttons fling across the room as you rip his shirt in impatience - fingers too dripping in lust to work through them. You’re sure if the same could be done to your heavy prairie skirt, then it would’ve suffered a similar fate.
You run your hands along his sculpted body greedily, as you’d wanted to since the first time you saw him shirtless. He hisses at the friction and the impatience at wanting to do the same to you, fingers fumbling with your complicated clasps.
After much frustration and curses on whoever invented corsets, you’re finally exposed in front of Satoru.
Shit, he really should call you his goddess. Because in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he thinks he’s in heaven as you sit atop him, bare and needy for him. Fuck Naoya. Fuck any faceless suitable husband. Eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-bitten, you’re like this because of him.
Grinding his now-bare hips against yours, a low groan rips from his throat at the feeling of your swollen folds spreading against his aching cock. Your dripping slick mixes with his as he continues rutting into you.
“Ah! Enough teasin’, Satoru- Want you inside me.” you whimper sinfully.
Your words make Satoru snap. Wordlessly, he sheaths himself inside you with a sigh of relief. Moans leave his throat unrestrained as he bullies his cock deeper and deeper inside your hot cunt. “Fuck. S’tight, your pretty pussy is suckin’ me in so good m’lady.” he hisses out, brows furrowed in pleasure.
Satoru could feel himself losing more and more of his sanity every time your plushy walls clenched down on him as he pulled out to fuck up into with harsh thrusts. It was so animalistic, the way your perfect cunt couldn’t bear to part with him.
Your slick drips down his length and onto his heavy balls each time he rams into you at a merciless cadence. Soft yelps of his name leave your lips every time his tip kisses your cervix.
Ah, this time he was actually going to pass out. Your pretty whines, your dripping cunt, the way your tits jiggled so enticingly at each thrust - it was all too much.
Angling you slightly with his bruising grip on your hips, Satoru smiles with satisfaction at that one spot that makes you convulse on his cock. Abs burning at the pace, he hits it over and over. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder, moans of his name leaving you against your will.
You were sure to be absolutely covered in marks tomorrow.
But that was a problem for later you. Right now, all you could focus on was grinding your hips down to meet Satoru’s thrusts, eager for him to hit that spot even harder. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the painfully good stretch of your snug cunt. So full.
“K-keep going, Satoru. Don’ stop, please.” Your rickety bed creaks in protest at each relentless thrust, overpowered only by the stinging smacks of his balls against your ass.
It was so filthy. So debauched. And you absolutely loved it.
As Satoru’s hands sneak down to draw rough circles on your clit, you feel yourself getting closer and closer towards cumming. Leaning down to capture his lips with yours once more, you whisper against his mouth, “Satoru, I’m- Hngh-”
He connects his sweaty forehead with yours, “Mm. me too. Fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up. You want that, m’lady?”
Just the thought of being so full of Satoru sends you over the edge. You cum with a lewd moan of his name, cunt clenching so impossibly tight around his cock.
“Ah! Shit.” Satoru grits out at the way your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly. Your whimpers as you gush around him sounds like music to his ears.
Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums. A part of his soul parting with him that night. Thick ropes of his seed paint your walls white, strained whispers of your name leaving his mouth as if a prayer. As if you were his goddess.
A feral part of him keeps bucking his hips into you, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper - claiming you as his.
You do the same in your own way - biting down on Satoru’s exposed neck. Hard. His strong arms wrap around you to keep you from moving away, letting you use him as you please.
Cum drips down your legs, staining your blanket.
As your highs finally bate, you blink out the haze from your eyes. Looking up at Satoru from where you were snuggled into the crook of his neck, admiring the innocent blush adorning his face and his glossy, bruised lips. Both of you so overstimulated and euphoric.
“Got any travel stories like this?” you chuckle out, half-delirious and exhausted from what just transpired in this room.
“Not at all.” Satoru breathes out, pulling you closer to him, closing his hazy eyes to the sex-filled air.
That night, squeezed into your warm single bed, Satoru tells you stories of before his travels. You’re unsure if your parents are home yet, and right now with Satoru in your arms - you don’t care.
You listen as he rambles about growing up in the quaint town of Summer Pass. How he was raised with beautiful parents, a wonderful life. Yet, since the passing of his best friend, he’d taken up what the two had been dreaming of since they were children - wandering the world.
“I’m afraid, if I stay too long then it always ends up hurtin’.” he whispers into the still night. Caressing his hair, you pull him into your warm embrace. Your heart weighs heavy as the back of your mind pangs with the realization that Satoru will still leave despite this.
Both of you fall asleep reminiscing talks of your childhoods. In your exhausted state, maybe you misheard - but you could’ve sworn by the “I love you, m’lady.” Satoru whispered against your lips right before you closed your eyes.
Limbs intertwined till you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts, you have the most peaceful sleep in a long time.
You’re unsure when Satoru snuck out of your room. The only evidence of last night being the washcloth on your bedside table that he’d tenderly cleaned you up with, and a singular button from his shirt at the foot of your bed.
Cheeks heating once you catch sight of it, you make your way down to breakfast in your most well-covered dress.
What you certainly didn’t expect was to be interrogated by your mother. “So…” she begins. ”When did you come home, darling? We didn’t see you at the hoedown after midnight.”
Ah, suddenly these scrambled eggs just did not want to go down your throat. “Jus’...went to see somethin’ interesting.” you respond, eyes meeting with Satoru’s amused ones across the table as he subtly plays footsies with you underneath.
---
Sneaking around with a secret cowboy boyfriend doesn’t just happen in books, you realize. It’s a lot easier since Naoya is around a lot more often than usual. The only thing he might be good for may be keeping your parents entertained…
Since then, Satoru, you conclude, really does not like L-words: namely, Love and Leaving.
Despite his breathless confession that night, Satoru hasn’t said anything more about his feelings towards you - nor when he’ll be leaving.
It’s okay, you have time. You console yourself, as you lay in bed with him after he’d snuck into your room as per usual, pulling his warm presence closer to yours. But Satoru’s inevitable departure looms closer and closer like a dark cloud above your head.
It’s only two months after that night, when you’ve retreated from another engagement conversation you shut down, that Satoru brings it up. Hands intertwined and watching the sunset on top of your father’s barn, he utters in an uncharacteristically grave tone “I planned to leave next week, m’lady.”
Your heart pricks at his words. You knew this was coming.
Clenching your fists in self-assurance, your words tumble out.
“Let me come with you.”
“Let me stay with you.”
The nostalgic lullaby of the world around you is deafening as you and Satoru reel back in synchronized surprise.
“You- stay?”
“Wait- huh?”
Brow raised, you gesture at him to continue. “I just- I thought maybe I could stay here. Build a life with you, if you’d like, m’lady.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. Satoru - who smiles brightest when talking of his tales of travel - was offering to settle down?
“W-what? Satoru, why would you? You love traveling.” you sputter out in disbelief. His smile grows, as does the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve found something I love a lot more.” he murmurs, with a playful bite to the crook of your neck.
You crack a smile at his sincerity, though you shake your head in disagreement. “You should be out there explorin’ the world, Satoru. And…I want to be right by your side.”
“I thought you loved this place?”
“I do.” you sigh. “But I feel so trapped.”
Resting your head on Satoru’s shoulders, you admit how dear Rustcliffe is to you - although oftentimes you try to deny it - and how you want to leave just as much.
The stars wink at you two mischievously by the time you’re done, a twinkle that matches the look in Satoru’s eyes as he announces, “So~ We run away together in a blaze of glory. End scene, credits roll, Gege win’s best actor.”
“Exactly. Although I prefer the term unannounced relocation.” you hum, relishing in his bark of laughter. “Now, c’mon, cowboy. We gotta get up early for that damn election rally tomorrow.”
Heading back home as inconspicuous as possible is always tedious. In addition to praying away your swollen lips, you head in innocently at different times.
Hurriedly greeting your housekeeper, you attempt to make a swift escape to your room. Only to be blocked by…Naoya?
“We meet again, sweetcheeks.” he smiles, stepping closer towards you. Determined to stand your ground, you stare menacingly up at him. “Hello, my apologies for being so unavailable to meet these days. Business, y’know.” your voice steady.
“Ah, yes. I know.” he hums dangerously. Looming closer to your face, you smell the tobacco on his breath as he mutters, “It’s no matter, your father and I have gone through with our conversations. You and I will announce our engagement tomorrow at your father’s rally. That is final.”
“I’ve talked with you about this, I’ve screamed at you about this. I will not marry you no matter what my father nor anyone else says.” you grit out through clenched teeth.
“Why? Got anyone in mind? Think it’ll be anyone else your father approves of?” he raises a brow, delicately raising the neckline of where your dress had dripped down - where Satoru had nipped before.
He knows.
“Not at all.” you smile sweetly. Not waiting for a response, you run upstairs. Seems like running away in a blaze of glory might have to hurry up.
Twisting and turning the entire night, you don’t get a wink of sleep, mind a whirlwind of how you’d get Satoru and run away before the announcement.
It was terrifying.
---
Parading around town in an itchy engagement dress under the boiling sun on your father’s collection of purebred Italian horses (+ Gege) wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend an ideal morning. But it wasn’t the worst.
You snuck glances at Satoru riding in front of you, looking devastatingly handsome as ever.
Naoya had been terrifyingly quiet all morning. You could feel his penetrating stare on you, scrutinizing every movement and every conversation. He rides beside you - your soon-to-be husband.
As the procession ends at your father’s podium, where he proudly takes a stand. As he plows on with an inspirational speech that has the audience in cheers, your mind runs a mile a minute as you slip away from the stage. Even in your gauzy white dress, it’s easy to get lost in the animated crowds of Rustcliffe - which you and Satoru use to your advantage.
This was happening. You were going to finally leave.
Heart clenching at the sight of your jovial parents onstage, you take a long look before turning away. It’s okay, it’s alright. This is something you’ve been wanting for years.
Brain whirring at the letters you’d send them on your travels, you miss the harsh gaze following you.
“Satoru!” you gasp at the blur of white and black that embraces you as soon as you step foot into Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon. The bar, empty for the first time in years since your father’s last rally, was your hastily chosen place of refuge.
Nanami, who wasn’t initially too keen on being involved, had sympathized once he saw the look on your face. “Alright, but if anyone asks - you two were never here. Not too good for business, y’know.” he’d stated, permitting you two to do whatever you please.
Although, it probably was worth noting that he’d almost taken it back once Satoru tackled him into a hug with a joyful squeal of “Nanamiiiin~!”
“C’mon now. I’ve got our bags saddled on Gege. We’ll leave immediately.” Satoru voices, snapping you out of your reminiscing. Rushing to give Nanami a farewell hug, your heart lurches as he whispers “Goodbye. Promise you’ll write.”
This was really happening.
Nodding in promise, you finally turn to the open door and step into the dusty sunlight. Satoru leads you to where Gege is impatiently waiting for your quick getaway. You could almost laugh at the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins.
You were going to get out.
You grip onto Satoru’s shoulder for support as he circles his arms around you to lift you onto the seat, slightly shaking at the intoxicating adrenaline.
You were finally going to be free.
“Leavin’ so soon, sweetcheeks?” a chilling voice slices through the air. One that you know way too well. Your heart stops, as does Satoru’s hands in midair - before he sets you down slowly.
Body moving against your will, you turn to the deceivingly sweet voice behind you. Naoya.
A cold sweat breaks out across Satoru’s forehead.
He stares down Naoya’s hand hovering over the holster at his hip. “I knew there was something off about you, barn boy. You think I’d be outmatched by someone like you?” he hisses, resentment poisoning every word.
Satoru does what he does arguably the best, “Oh c’mon asshat, don’t be so melodramatic. We’re just going on a little adventure.” he smirks.
“Don’t I know of these adventures.” Naoya spits out.
Agonizingly slow, Naoya draws his gun. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as the three of you stand frozen, searing sun casting eerie shadows across the desolate road.
BANG!
Naoya’s first shot tears through the deafening silence. Narrowly missing the bullet, Gege whinnies in fear before running off to safety. Satoru skillfully maneuvers you two into the shadowy alleyway beside Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon.
In the blink of an eye, he presses you close to the dust-bitten wall as he pulls out his gun. “Stay here.” he gasps out.
With lightning speed, Satoru retaliates - firing back-to-back shots at Naoya with a speed and precision that has him scrambling for cover behind a barrel.
The gunfire echoes throughout the quiet town, these familiar streets becoming a battleground. Despite both parties shooting from their impromptu covers, neither are invincible.
A stray bullet harshly grazes his arm, blood painting the ground a deep crimson. Fuck, this really burned like a motherfucker. But he was still alive - he still had to protect you.
The standoff intensifies, stray bullets flying off in every direction. They splinter holes through the rustic shop banners. You could only be thankful that the town was at the rally, confident you’d never forgive yourself if anyone died on this road today.
Satoru fires off shots with uncanny accuracy, years of defending himself on the road coming in handy. Yet, he was losing blood. So much blood. He realizes with a jolt that his vision was slowly blurring.
Breaths labored and slumping forward against the wall, he aims one last shot at Naoya. Fuck. Shit. Dear lord, if you’re up there, please don’t let my love die here.
A finger pulls the trigger. The bullet flies through the air as if in slow-motion.
It hits metal.
Naoya’s gun flies through the air, clattering onto the sun-scorched ground as he is finally disarmed. The beginnings of a grin curl Satoru’s lips before he heaves out a heavy sigh. Eyes closing and body collapsing forward, the last thing ringing in his ears being your harrowed scream.
“No no no no. Satoru please.” sobs wreck your throat as your hands frantically check for Satoru’s pulse. In your panicked state of mind, you barely register the crunch of gravel nearing towards you two.
“Shit. The fuck is it that you even want?” that dreaded voice sounds ominously in your ears. “To travel? I can fuckin’ take you places.”
Sagging on the saloon wall for support, Naoya clutches his bleeding side as he observes the two of you. In an instant, you’re in front of Satoru’s body protectively, hand steady on his discarded gun pointed right at Naoya’s head.
“Leave, before I shoot your brains out..” you threaten, voice deceptively steady.
“I thought I could be the one to break you - the mayor’s wildchild daughter. But why the fuck do you put yourself through this?” he continues, voice strained with anger.
“Because he is the one I want. I refuse your proposal, and I am not sorry for it. Now leave.”
You were standing up now, the cool metal of the barrel pressed firmly to his forehead. Finger hovering above the trigger.
“I believe the lady said to leave.” Nanami’s voice startles you both. His normally stoic face was etched with anger.
Despite his injuries, Naoya manages to glare at Nanami. But, realizing the odds are against him, he backs away, but not before venomously promising “This ain’t over, sweetcheeks.”
He leaves a bloody trail as he limps out of sight.
“Told you this wasn’t good for business.” Nanami sighs at the chaos. With Nanami’s help, you carry Satoru inside - body moving on instinct as your mind races to process everything that happened.
The empty bar now serves as an improvised hospital. Laying Satoru down on a table that acts as a makeshift bed, propping his feet up in a desperate attempt to recirculate his blood. You desperately tear the intricate of your engagement dress into bandages, hurriedly wrapping it around his injured arm.
The atmosphere is taut, air once thick with the stench of alcohol now reeking of blood and the dusty antiseptic Nanami had brought to you from the very back of his shelves. The methodic ticking of the bar clock sounds like gunshots to your ears.
His reassuring presence is probably what keeps you sane as you stare unmovingly at your hands, stained a dark red from the blood seeping through Satoru’s clothes.
You must have been sitting there for hours. Maybe even days. Or it might have even been just a few minutes.
All you know is a flash of blue, and you’re surging forward, heart racing. “Satoru?! Satoru! Please say something.” you cry out, tears streaming down your face once more. Nanami quietly makes his exit to the back, leaving the two lovers to their privacy.
“Satoru.” you breathe out, relief flooding your body and a smile forcing its way onto your face as Satoru’s half-lidded eyes meet your worried ones.
“M’lady.” he whispers weakly. His uninjured arm shakily cups your cheek, and you lean into his warm touch. “I would never have forgiven myself if I left you alone, m’lady.” he rasps, eyes boring into yours. “Couldn’t have fought off the tumbleweeds yourself.”
You let out a watery laugh. There he is, the man you love.
“I love you, Satoru.” you speak in a hushed tone, as if anything louder will throw you back into your nightmare. His smile grows, blue summer eyes flooding with silent tears.
“I love you, too. So, so much. Wherever you go s’ where I belong, my love.” he utters words meant for you - and only you.
Your heart swells at the indescribable emotion on his face. “Then, rest well. We have to make our getaway in a blaze of glory, remember?”
It wasn’t a blaze of glory, more like a teary trail of apologies and thanks as you embrace Nanami farewell - for the second time today. He hugs Satoru too, but only begrudgingly after he bemoans about being on the brink of death any second now.
You step outside once more, hands shaky at what awaits you.
In the distance, you hear a frantic call of your name. You turn, only to have your parents barreling emotionally into you.
Word seems to have spread around town about what had happened, and your parents were first to come to you - your father running off midspeech.
Through your hurried stream of tears and recollections of what happened, you managed to bawl out “I-I’m so-”
Words which are quickly hushed by your equally emotional parents. “Please don’ apologize.” your mother soothes.
“If anything, I should. I’m so sorry for tryin’ to coop you up here, my dear. I was a scared, insolent man. S’hard to not see you as my little girl, I hope you can forgive me, my darling.” your father sighs shakily. He looks a lot older than you remember him.
Grabbing both your parents into a tight embrace, you whisper out the words “I love you, and I promise to write.”
With a final hug goodbye from your parents - to both you and Satoru, you take a seat in front of him on the now-calm Gege.
“Ready m’lady?” you send a teasing glance at Satoru, who positively swoons overdramatically.
“Oh yes, Mr. Brave n’ Handsome cowboy.” he responds in a theatrically high falsetto. “Travelin’ the world won’t be all sunshines and rainbows, y’know? If you want a way out now then jus’ say the word.” he warns in his normal voice.
“Trynna get rid of me already, cowboy?” you raise a brow playfully. He wraps his arms securely around your waist. “Just sayin’, wouldn’t want you to regret a single thing.” he murmurs softly.
“I won’t. As long as we win against those tumbleweeds, right?”
Huffing out a laugh, “Can’t promise ya that, my love. You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me.”
The snap of reins. A last look at your waving parents, and your little town of Rustcliffe. You ride into the horizon with your white dress billowing behind you - on what you and Satoru would later consider blazing glory.
---
“Didya hear about the mayor’s daughter? Last I heard, she was kidnapped by a rogue cowboy a couple years back, snatched her straight off her feet on her wedding day!”
“Hogwash! I heard she went quite willingly - the boy was quite a looker, you see. Stabbed her fiancé in his sleep before riding off into the sunset!”
Nanami stifles a laugh at the scandalized gasps echoing around the table as the old drunkards run the gossip mill.
In a subtle motion, he discreetly tucks away a photograph, its back adorned with enthusiastic handwriting and a…hoofprint?
Taj Mahal sprawling in the backdrop, two identical heads of white hair grin mischievously in the photo.
Yet, yours takes center stage.
A/N. Did this in two days, anything is possible kids (I need to lie down). Reblogs are so so so appreciated.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#jjk#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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THIS DECEMBER
PAIRING park jisung x fem!reader | ft. friendgroup!nct dream
WORDS 5k
SYNOPSIS Your horny friends try to pull a little prank on you in the days leading up to Christmas. One thing Park Jisung likes to remind them is: he totally doesn’t want any part in it. Except, he totally does.
WARNINGS smut, ANGST, fluff, lots of dialogue, vag fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, vanilla vanilla vanilla, they're in love basically
NOTES I have to admit, this isn’t my best work lolllllll. though this was supposed to be posted on christmas, this can be my new years gift! 2024 here we come babyyy
★ Part of A Dreamy Christmas Collab!
“Why don’t we all be her secret Santa?”
“What are you talking about?” Jaemin chuckles, eyes dancing as he seems intrigued by the idea. But what pervades his mind was nothing like what Donghyuck was about to propose.
“Think about it…” he trails. “She used to say, if it’s an SOS, and we need help in that department,” he points to his crotch– “She would help us out.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Jisung rolls his eyes when he catches on to Hyuck’s sudden idea.
“So you’re saying we all get her a present?” Chenle asks.
“Yes… But we all have to give her the same… present,” he walks between each of the men like a devil hovering over their shoulders.
“Hyuck, just get to the point,” Jeno huffs.
“Okay, bu–”
“No ‘buts!’ Get to your point,” Renjun groans.
“The gift we’re giving her can’t be put into a shitty little box.”
“Oh my god, NO!” Mark whines.
“What’s so wrong with a little fun?”
“Are you seriously suggesting an… orgy?”
“No, you idiot,” Hyuck pinches his nose bridge. “Let’s all give her our present one by one leading up to Christmas… Like an advent calendar,” he shrugs, unable to hide the pride beaming off of him from the simile.
“So you’re suggesting we all have sex with her in the days leading up to Christmas? Am I hearing this right?” Jaemin intervenes once more, orbs gleaming with interest.
“Ding Ding! We have a winner!”
“Jisung’s right. You’ve gone insane,” Renjun fully laughs.
“You know I’m insane, and that’s why we have fun. But you know what? Let’s make this more interesting… When we tell her after Christmas, the person who she says is her best fuck, get’s her secret Santa present,” Hyuck smirks. “You know she goes all out.”
“I’m in, but it might be hard for Mark because he’s actually in love with her,” Jaemin turns his body towards his friend who avoids eye contact before offering a retort.
“Why just me? You guys are all in love with her!” His claim is met with a group of huffs and groans.
“How do you know she’ll even agree to this?” Jeno points out, earning a nod from the others.
“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. If she does, then great! Amazing even! But if she doesn’t, then man, I feel kinda bad because we all got a thing for her.” Hyuck accepts the facts of the predicament. “Hopefully we can laugh about this on New Years.”
“I don’t. I guess I’m the only one,” the youngest of the group speaks out but it’s not taken seriously by his older friends as a fit of laughter echoes within the small space.
Hyuck’s the first one to speak– placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, “You’re the worst out of all of us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You guys always bicker and talk shit but I know all you want to do is rip each other’s clothes off,” Jeno jumps in. “Nice try though. I almost believed it.”
“I’m not! She’s annoying as hell!”
“So annoying you want to fuck it out of her, right?” Jaemin joins.
“You guys are jumping me right now, I’m leaving,” Jisung excuses himself earning a look of victory from his friends.
“Wait! So you agree to it, right? Jisung?! Hello?” Chenle and Renjun yell out in unison, but the only reply heard is the slam of a door.
“You’re serious about this Hyuck?” Mark asks one last time.
“No, but this is just so those two kids will finally admit they’re down bad for each other. I think this will be their breaking point.”
“Damn,” all the other boys yell in unison.
“I know right? Someone needs to hire me for something! I don’t know for what, but something!” he crosses his arms to bask in his actions.
“Yeah, yeah,” Mark laughs at his friend. “You’re so dumb.”
“Just wait and see. He won’t make it to Christmas…”
Everyone is being… weird.
On the very first day of December, you and all your friends come together to pick a name out of a jar. The game of Secret Santa is an annual tradition you love partaking in. But once the weather dropped thirty degrees, all the boys started acting shady. They were canceling plans with you on purpose, avoiding eye contact when you spoke to any one of them, and just running away the first chance they got. It was easy to get mad, even call them out for it, but the replies would always be the same– that there was nothing wrong or they were just tired.
And you’re not going to lie, it was starting to make your skin crawl. The sudden shift in dynamic between you and the boys has you wondering if you did something wrong. But if they were trying to pull something, then they had another thing coming. It was frustrating, trying to shake it out of them in every way possible, but no one would budge.
December eighth rolls around and you know everyone is free today because you all collectively promised Sunghoon that every year until the day you die, this day will always be open for him. It’s always an annual trip to the snowy mountains– a secluded cabin and powdery snow that’s fit for snowboarding. Surprisingly, but not so surprisingly, everyone’s busy up until the car ride to the cabin.
Their persistent avoidance, even for an event like this, just pulls on the strings even harder.
You’re leaning against the island of the kitchen, glaring into their souls from across the room as the music's bass reverberates throughout the warm cabin; and the bitter liquid in your plastic cup disappears like water down a drain.
“Why are you standing here all by yourself?”
You turn to the voice, sporting a grin once you realize who it is. “Hey, birthday boy. Just glaring at the boys. Don’t know if they notice though,” you squint a little harder, hoping they’ll finally notice.
Sunghoon’s orbs follow the seven of them scattered around the living room. “They notice alright. I’m sure they’ll come crawling back when they realize you don’t play.”
“Oh, they know I don’t. But they’re still gonna try anyway,” you let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish I knew what they’re up to. It’s killing me.”
“Just ask Jisung.”
“Why Jisung?” The mention of your friend’s name causes the subject of your orbs to shift to him, but he’s already looking your way. When you make eye contact, he hurriedly glances away, confirming the suspicion that something’s up.
“I feel like whatever they’re planning, he’s telling them he doesn’t want to do it.”
“Why is that so detailed? Do you know what they’re up to? Spill right now!”
Sunghoon shakes his head in denial, raising the cup to his lips before responding. “Nah, you guys are always going at it. That’s all. It’s just a hunch.”
“Fine, maybe I will. But I was gonna do it anyway.”
You’re already making your way towards Jisung when Sunghoon blurbs out. “If it doesn’t work, I’m always available.”
“You wish, Park.” But you stop in your tracks. “Wait, what?”
Sunghoon walks off in a hurry, “Nothing! Had to try at least once!”
Rolling your eyes at the birthday boy, you finally make your way to your destination but all seven of your friends go completely mute once you reach it. There’s not a sound emitting from them, and it practically forces smoke out of your ears.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Jeno murmurs.
“You guys have been ignoring me ever since December started! Spill your evil plans right now!”
“Nothing’s going on,” Chenle adds, but it’s met with a crack of his voice at the final word, and you know one hundred percent they're lying.
“Haechan! I know you’re the mastermind,” you turn to your friend, but all he does is shrug, eyes still looking everywhere but yours as he nonchalantly sips from his drink.
“Nothing whatsoever. We’ve just been busy that’s all,” Jisung speaks out, but you chuckle, knowing he’ll eventually give in if you press him hard enough.
“Of course, you’re a part of this! Sunghoon told me you weren’t, but I doubted him as soon as those words left his mouth!”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung’s tone changes, as if he’s warning you.
“That little shithead!” Jaemin groans.
“I knew it!” you exclaim.
“What did he tell you?” Renjun interrupts.
“Nothing, just what I said before.”
“Nothing is going on. You don’t believe us?” Jisung is still firm on his decision to make you believe otherwise. With that stupid smirk he’s trying to hide and how his form influences you to shift back.
“Of course, you’re still on that even though Jaemin just admitted you guys are planning something! You’re the worst!”
“And you’re a dumbass,” Jisung mumbles once you turn away.
“Look who’s fucking talking,” you don’t realize you’re stepping closer at every syllable exchanged and you don’t know why your friend loves to push your buttons so much.
“You always say I’m the worst and then you come right back. I don’t think you hate me as much as you say you do,” Jisung’s eyes glimmer with a playfulness to them, closing the space between the two of you as the bickering reaches its climax. But his words only fuel your rage.
At this point, you can only see red.
All you do with Jisung is bicker or fight about stupid shit. Your friendship with the other boys is the glue that holds you and Jisung together. No one could guess that you met all the boys through him. You both had been friends with benefits long ago— practically another lifetime. But you’d jump off a cliff before admitting that the shards of glass remain. And that it still cuts.
It’s impossible to act like everything is fine and you both can get along. So instead, you fight and fight until no more words can be said.
“Ooooo,” you hear Jeno say, reminding you you’re still in a place full of swarming bodies.
“What about you? You either hate me or you love me. It can’t be both,” you mutter, condemning yourself as you catch a glimpse of his lips hovering above yours. You're both staring one another down, and you notice the same vein on the side of his temple, and his jaw clenches with each phrase that escapes your lips.
“Watch it,” Jisung seethes.
“What? If you wanna play this game, let’s pla—“
“Okay! Enough of this,” Hyuck groans before dragging the both of you by the wrist and out of the main room.
“What are you doing Hyuck?” you urgently inquire, but he doesn’t reply. He only hurriedly rushes along, throwing you both into a bedroom you don’t recognize. And as you rush to escape the enclosed space, your friend shuts the door in front of your face– leaving you with your hands practically clawing at the door.
“Lee Donghyuck! Open the fucking door right now!” you yell out, unable to comprehend how your friend could think this was a solution. “Open the door before I beat your ass!”
“He’s not going to open the door,” Jisung reminds you of his presence amidst the chaos. “Not until the morning.”
“What?! No. No. No. This is not happening right now.”
“Let’s just sleep. So when we wake up, we can just get outta here.”
You scan the room, realizing there’s nothing for you to rest on except the bed in the center– the one Jisung is currently sitting on. “You think I can fall asleep with everything that’s going on? And I don’t even know what’s going on,” you’re shifting awkwardly, habitually rocking yourself on the heel of your feet following the eye of the storm.
“Just sleep. It’ll be over soon,” Jisung already makes himself comfy, placing his legs under the covers and rearranging the pillow to his liking. He’s too calm. Way too calm for what just occurred.
“Where am I supposed to sleep?”
“I don’t know, figure it out,” he mumbles, lids already fluttering shut. You hate how you admire how long his eyelashes are.
His eagerness to ignore the dilemma influences you to the bed to pry his lids open. As Jisung opens his eyes willingly, you finally take notice of how close you both are. His eyes widen at the proximity and he shifts back to the edge of the bed in surprise. You’re caught off guard because there seems to be something lingering in the air between the two of you. And you brush it off because you know it’s annoyance.
“Just sleep,” he softly lets out before returning to his original position. “Next to me.”
His softness in these last words has you admitting some defeat– realizing fighting won’t solve anything. “Fine.”
There are still zero answers that will satisfy your scrambled mind.
And you’re trapped in a room with someone you can’t stand for more than five minutes.
It’ll be over soon. Right?
You’re fucking drenched.
As the daze of sleep washes over, you notice the stickiness between your thighs. And not the good kind.
It felt as if you just entered the fiery pits of hell.
“What the fuck?” you whine. The air was so humid, you were practically suffocating. And as you turn to the side, you see an irritated Jisung. If you thought you looked gross, Jisung didn’t have a dry spot on his clothing.
You try your hardest not to stare at the clothing sticking to his abs. This is not the time.
“Don’t,” he warns, thinking you’re about to poke fun at him.
You chuckle at the sight of his discomfort, offering a half-assed apology. “Sorry.”
“Lee Donghyuck! Turn off the fucking heater!” he yells out, but there’s no answer.
“Fuck. We’re going to die.”
“I’m not dying here with you. That’s not how I’m going out.”
“Is that so bad? Chill the fuck out,” you roll your eyes.
“Yes it is! I’m gonna kick the door down and beat Donghyuck’s ass.”
You don’t know if it’s the unbearable heat, or the constant fucking attitude from Jisung all night. Maybe it was the pent-up frustration from all the other times you both didn’t get along. But you’ve decided enough is enough.
“What’s your fucking problem?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re always so fucking mad at me. I do nothing and you’re mad. I breathe and you’re mad. It pisses me off! At this point, I should be the one giving you the attitude you give me!”
“And you know what? I always cared what you thought. But not anymore. I’m done caring so pretend I don’t even exist,” your heart is beating out of your chest as the words spill out like vomit.
“That’s no–” Jisung’s unable to finish his sentence when suddenly his orbs follow your fingertips gripping the hem of your top to bring over your head– leaving you in a bra. “Wha-”
“It’s hot as shit and I’m not going to suffer. Do what you want,” you huff, continuing with the removal of your jeans. You notice Jisung's stare lingering on your contours as you eventually pull them off, and it appears as if a million different things are running through his mind when he suddenly glances away and shakes his head.
You’re not going to lie, it’s amusing seeing Jisung’s usual persona falter. Your boldness and the situation it creates masks the uncomfortable predicament the two of you are in. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”
“What did you mean by ‘you used to care about what I thought?’” He swallows nervously.
His words have you stopping in your tracks, not realizing your words were true candor. “Nothing, I was just saying nonsense,” is all you can render as you make your way to the bed, but Jisung beats you to it, grabbing your wrist to prevent you from escaping.
“Tell me. Please. I know it wasn’t nonsense,” his voice is like syrup, the usual bite to it completely gone.
You turn to face him, though you regret it the moment you notice how his eyes match his voice. “Well, I cared what you thought because of what we did before we all became friends. And us… Or whatever we are. I don’t know what we are now but I cared about you and what you thought about me.”
“Cared?”
“I still do…”
“Then why do we fight?”
“I don’t know. I guess you hate me so I just returned that energy.”
“I don’t hate you,” he sounds hurt, the similar bite of his voice attempting to escape. “You annoy the hell out of me, but I could never hate you.”
“Oh…”
“You really act like you hate me though,” Jisung offers a small smile.
“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying as hell. And I just don’t know what to do with everything lingering in the air when I’m around you,” you bite your lip at the confession, realizing it wasn’t a very good one. And you see him watch you do so.
“You mean the tension?”
“Yeah… The tension… The tension causes us to fight. Right?” The air becomes more suffocating than it already is. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s Jisung so close to you, or how you’re basically naked in front of him.
“What else would we do?” his eyes are still trained on your lips.
“I don’t know,” you murmur not above a whisper. “You tell me.”
“Let me try something,” he takes a step forward, shortening the small space between the two of you. “Promise you won’t get mad.”
“No promises,” you urge, because you’re unsure of what Jisung planned to do after the indirect confessions made in the room today. One things for sure. This territory hadn’t been visited in ages and it scares the shit out of you.
“What are you go–” You’re cut off the lips that make its way onto yours.
When you see Jisung dipping his head down to capture your lips onto his, you're taken aback. However, the minute he makes contact, your legs almost buckle. It's a familiar sensation, and you melt into him as he tests the waters with increasing devotion.
When you reciprocate the kiss, it gets feverish, and your trembling lips work together haphazardly, interwoven with airy sighs. His arms reach for your waist, pulling you into him harder than ever before. He knows your body like no one else, and it drives parts of your brain haywire. It feels like only yesterday that you both would rendezvous.
He groans into your mouth and squeezes your ass as you tug on his hair the way he likes it. It makes you whimper since the combination of the sloppy kiss and the rush of pleasure is far too satisfying.
It feels good. Way too good.
That's why when Jisung pulls away, you chase his lips and he emits a small chuckle at the action. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you don’t hate me and never did,” his shoulders rise and fall at a rapid pace as he catches his breath.
“I don’t,” you look up at him, and you want nothing more to kiss him again. It feels like all the frustration aimed at him was sexual. It’s honestly his fault for always looking so tempting while offering some smartass retort. “I never did.”
"God, I missed you," he smashes his lips against yours again, this time much more aggressive, and the back of your knees reach the edge of the bed, briefly disconnecting your lips. You laugh, and he smirks before diving back into you as soon as your back comes into contact the mattress.
Something possesses him at that moment, makes his hands glide up the back of your thighs, to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting to leave small bites that he later licks over to soothe the sting. “Know how much you love to be marked.”
“And I know how much you love me choking on your dick,” you giggle, licking a long stripe along his neck up to his jaw.
“You’re dangerous,” Jisung hooks your thong aside, unsurprised when he notices the sticky arousal coating his fingers. “Fuck, I forgot how wet you get.”
“It’s from the heat.” Your words contradict themselves as noises of pleasure leave your lips when he runs his fingers along your folds. Jisung, on the other hand, knows the meaning behind your words like no other. “All this stickiness is from the heat? I don’t think so baby,” he offers some stimulation to your clit and your back arches once he comes in contact with your bud.
You shake your head and he dips his head down onto your neck offering a small kiss against the side of your neck. God, he looks so hot, with the sweat dripping down the side of his temple and his puffy lips from kissing.
The lewd sounds from his fingers running along your folds sends you into a frenzy. You’re attempting to gain more friction, bucking your hips to feel more. You’re so needy for his touch. You've been longing for this touch. "I'll be nice, baby," he says, inserting one finger inside your hole, your walls engulfing him up to the knuckle. Jisung experiments with twisting and curling his fingers, enjoying the way you gasp and pulse around his fingertips.
The wet glide is so satisfying and you moan, basically fucking yourself onto his fingers. “Sung–” is all you can choke out as he begins thrusting with a rhythm you both can’t forget. “Wai–”
But Jisung can’t withhold any longer, not with you looking so pretty underneath him. Not with the sounds that he remembers all too well. His cock practically throbs at these thoughts, begging to be free from its confines when you’re already a mess. He’s pressing against your clit along with the constant thrust of his fingers. “Shit, Sung!” you wail, already foreseeing your high from the short time.
Your nails dig into his forearm, body twitching from the overwhelming pleasure only he can give you. “Oh, fuck,” the words are combined with a moan as your orgasm takes you by surprise, coating his fingers in a creamy pearl substance. It drips down your folds as he pulls away, and the wash of the aftermath runs from your toes to the crown of your head. It’s blissful, but your hunger for him doesn’t stay satiated. “Good girl,” he says as he revels in your figure.
“I need you,” you pant. “Now.”
“Whatever you say, Mom,” he jokes as he pulls his shirt over his head before discarding the rest of his clothing.
“Ewww. Never say that again,” you say, earning a laugh from Jisung.
“Like words ever stopped me before pretty girl.”
He's tugging the side of your panties, dragging them down the side of your legs while practically gaping. He continues with your bra and he gazes, unable to believe everything taking place currently. You're like a dream, sprawled out beneath him. The pretty girl he could never get close to after being so close with.
“Ready?” he asks after he shakes himself out of the trance you have him in.
“Mhm,” you nod.
He pushes inside, sighing into your ear at the creaminess of your cunt. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as he bottoms out, fingers burrowing further into his scalp. Jisung, rather than staying against your neck, takes advantage of the chance to peer at you. When his nose brushes up against yours, all he sees are your lips caught between your teeth.
At the feeling of his big cock inside of you, you clench around him. He groans against your mouth, habitually bucking his hips forward. “Fuck,” you moan out, back arching at the feel of his cock dragging against your walls. Your brain is already a mess and it has been since the moment he kissed you. But Jisung loves how you’re a mess around him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, and that turns him on beyond belief.
“Move Sungie, please,” you plead and Jisung groans at the nickname you know he loves so much. It’s enough for him to grab your wrists to pin them above your head before he begins moving.
“Sung,” you call out again when he begins to move. His calculated movements have you squirming beneath him, but you’re still perfectly fit against him and it’s as if you both never stopped this routine.
“You’re mine. I’m not letting anyone touch you,” he coos, and you’re quick to agree. “Yours.”
The constant rhythm he keeps has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and you're shivering when he picks up the pace--giving him a look that seems to make Jisung's cock practically explode. He snaps his hips forward, so close to the edge that you shudder at the perspective.
He's fucking you so well that your eyesight is fuzzy, and the brush of his dick against the spot that drives you insane only adds to the sensation. "I-I'm so close," you warn, your irregular breathing hitting his face.
“Wait S-sung-g no.” Just as you’re about to hit your peak, Jisung flips you over so that you’re sitting on his thighs. Though you’re disappointed in the delay of your orgasm, the angle has his cock pushing deeper than before, tip nudging against your velvety walls harshly. “Fuck, I can’t,” you beg as your back arches at the smallest movements.
As fast as words leave his throat, Jisung dips down to suck on your nipple, occasionally leaving purple blossoms. “Wait I’ll–”
“You’ll what?” he says, chuckling when he sees you instinctively grinding forward against his member. “Cream my cock?” He watches your fucked out expressions, loving how your eyes are lined with tears.
“I’m planning on it, “ he smirks before thrusting up into you.
“J-jisung!” you’re a sobbing mess above him as his harsh thrusts sends pure pleasure up your spine. His name falls off your lips like a mantra, and the gibberish he can’t make out only urges him to move furiously into you. Though your brain is a puddle of mush, the band in your lower abdomen is about to snap, so you grind your hips against him with newly found fervor, stimulating your clit in the best way possible.
Jisung watches you above him as his fingers dig into your waist. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Everything about you, every part of your mind and body he worships, and he swears he’s not going to let go of you this time.
“S-sung,” you moan again and again, and Jisung continues to abuse your boob, kissing up your throat as you inch closer to your high. “So perfect.”
You let out a high-pitched moan at a specific thrust, and your thighs tremble against his. "I got you," he says as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. And after a few thrusts, you're collapsing against him, again repeating his name. You're just a lick away from teetering off the edge.
“I want it so bad,” you blabber against his neck. “S-so close. Don’t stop.”
“Give it to me,” he dips underneath to circle your bundle of nerves with the perfect pressure and you come undone, high-pitched moans and whimpers against his ear.
The mix of cum and the slick from prior allows the glide to be that much easier for Jisung to glide against as he tips over the edge as well. You’re still pulsing and gripping his cock like a vice and it’s a done deal for Jisung. “Inside?”
“Inside me,” you kiss the side of his neck. He feels euphoric as your noises against his ear urges him on and his arms hold you tightly. And after a few more thrusts and desperate hips, his cum shoots inside you. “Fuck.”
It's so much energy that when the sensation of your high washes over you, you collapse against Jisung, who also collapses against the mattress.
“You’re sticky,” you look at his face and admire how good the afterglow of sex looks on him.
Jisung massages little circles across the small of your back in comforting stillness.
“I’m going to murder Hyuck,” he realizes how much the humidity encases the room.
“Maybe not too brutal, because his plan to lock us in here so we can finally make up worked,” you notify him and his eyes light up.
“I think everyone’s asleep. How about we torture them some more?” he smirks at you.
“I say Hyuck isn’t going to get a wink of sleep tonight,” you mischievously grin and it’s enough for Jisung to dive down and continue drowning in your lips.
DECEMBER 31
11:59 PM
“Damn, I can’t believe my plan worked! You guys are attached to the fucking hip,” Hyuck comes over to you and Jisung hand-in-hand.
10
“Your plan worked for once dumbass,” Jeno butts in abruptly, almost spilling the alcohol in his cup.
9
“We have no more arguing but I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Jaemin points.
8
“You guys are like rabbits!” Mark yells out.
7
“Gross! Not the fucking time! I need to find someone to kiss,” Renjun groans.
6
“Yeah but everything Hyuck does to end our suffering, it just reappears as something else!” Chenle laughs, earning a middle-finger from the subject of his words.
5
“Guess you were right. We can laugh about this on New Year's,” Jeno turns to Hyuck.
4
“Happy new year motherfuckers,” Chenle says before clinking all the cups together.
3
You turn to Jisung as the clock counts down, his arm around your waist. “Happy New Year, boyfriend.”
2
“Happy New Year, Girlfriend,” he smiles the hardest you’ve seen him in a while.
1
“Happy fucking new year,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours.
Happy fucking new year indeed.
#nct#nct dream#nct smut#nct u#nct hard thoughts#nct x reader#nct u smut#nct scenarios#nct jisung#nct dream jisung#park jisung#park jisung smut#park jisung nct#park jisung x you#park jisung x reader#park jisung fic#jisung park#nct jisung smut#nct jisung x reader#nct jisung fluff#jisung smut#park jisung fluff#park jisung imagines#park jisung scenarios#nct hard hours#park jisung x y/n#nct dream park jisung#nct park jisung#nct fluff#nct angst
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Ulterior Motives
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f! student Reader
Synopsis: Gojo becomes a little bit infatuated with his bratty new student.
Warnings: Explicit smut, noncon, teacher/student relationship (reader is 18+), possessive behavior, manipulation
Tags: Spanking, panty gag, dacryphilia, dirty talk, vibrators, bondage, orgasm torture, bratty reader, humiliation
Word Count: 24.4k
Notes: This one is for ABanonymous, I hope you didn't mind the wait and I especially hope you enjoy the story. The title IS a reference and if you know, you know.
Next requested fic I will have out next Saturday, and that's a pinky promise.
“Is this seat taken?”
Bored, a little tired, you turned your gaze up to the interloper with a rejection at the ready. You stopped at the cafe to warm up, you weren’t in the most social of moods.
But you didn’t say anything when you saw the speaker. Your lips were parted and ready, but the words puffed out as nothing more than air. There was something wrong about him. If you hadn’t been so utterly—perhaps even willfully—detached from your surroundings, you might have noticed sooner.
It was a trick of yours. Good for interviews, social gatherings, and first impressions. Bad for relationships, communication, and your general interest in other people. The girl with long, straight hair ordering a brown sugar bubble tea was annoyed. The man behind her was texting someone, likely his paramour, because his bad mood was being soothed with excitement and lust. The female half of the couple behind you was excited, her male partner was bored. Those were things you knew. Things you sensed as intuitively as you interpreted sounds from vibrations and visuals from light.
The tall, white-haired man standing above you wearing a dark uniform and white bandage over his eyes was a solid, unreadable wall. The energy surrounding him wasn’t emotional, it was manifested, strong bordering on physical and, most likely, very bad news. You looked around the cafe, searching for some further clues about this utterly bizarre stranger, but nobody else seemed especially interested beyond his odd appearance. You cleared your throat.
“Excuse me, what?” you asked, composing yourself.
“May I sit here?” he asked again, smiling.
This could be interesting. Or bad. You shrugged as if disinterested. “If you want to.”
He took the seat across from you, his smile fixed in place. “Thank you, I can’t stand drinking alone.”
“Of course.”
“I’m Satoru Gojo,” he said, undeterred by your unfriendly demeanor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
You introduced yourself in turn, smoothing your hair and hoping you didn’t look too terrible. Could he even see you? Somehow, you got the feeling he could, but it didn’t look like the bandage was mesh.
“Did you hear about what happened at the City Central Library?” he asked, bracing his elbow on the table to cradle his head. “Nasty business.”
The words themselves were casual, but they left you with the same feeling as when you got caught sneaking out. That little pang of surprise, a stark interruption of suspense with panic and then a mental scramble as you tried to come up with a believable story that would get you out of trouble.
Did he know? That made the most sense, otherwise it was odd that he’d ask. But if he did know, you had no idea how he could, and had no way to guess how much he knew.
No response was worse than a bad one, so you fell back on the easiest and usually the most effective approach. “What happened?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows with a vacuously concerned expression. The kind of look that made it seem as if any question was so hopelessly complex, like the slightest problem was simply impossible for a girl as empty-headed as you to grasp.
“There was a gas leak of some kind,” Gojo said, his mouth set into a contemplative line. A second later, that solemn expression melted into a mischievous half-smile. “Rather, that’s what the news will report. We know better, don’t we?”
You frowned, your head tilting to the side and eyes curiously wide. “We do?”
“A curse manifested itself there. Nobody died, but it was close.”
“A curse?” you repeated slowly. “Are you talking about ghosts or something?”
“Something like that.”
You laughed, the light and ditzy airheaded kind of laugh. “Oh, come on. You’re teasing me, aren’t you.”
“When we interviewed the receptionist at the library,” Gojo said, his casual demeanor unaffected by your act, “she mentioned a young woman who stopped by and warned her that something bad was going to happen.”
“Oh?”
“Actually, I have three accounts of people saying that they were contacted before an incident involving a curse occurred. One of the tips was anonymous, but the third was at a construction site. The manager said that a pretty young woman approached him and warned that the conditions would be hazardous and he needed to be very careful. He’s in the hospital now.”
“That’s terrible,” you said, frowning. It was more of a pout, really.
Gojo pulled his phone out of his pocket. He clicked a few things on the screen—so he could see from behind the bandage, how odd—before holding it out for you to look at. It was security footage, presumably from the library. Although the quality was terrible, it didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was you in the video.
“This is from yesterday,” he said. “A curse was exorcized at this library earlier today.” He turned the screen to look at his phone, looking between you and the footage with theatrical scrutiny. “This does look a lot like you.”
“I don’t know who that is, but it can’t be me,” you said, pouting more. “I don’t even have a library card.”
“To be clear, I’m not accusing you of causing these incidents. If I thought you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Gojo told you. He put his phone in his pocket, picking up his drink to mess with the straw. “How long have you been able to see them?”
“See what?”
“Curses. Evil spirits, whatever you like to call them.”
You stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if you wanted to continue playing dumb. He obviously didn’t believe it. Besides, you were starting to get very curious about this strange not-blind man and the disconcerting amount of information he had about things he shouldn’t.
“As long as I can remember,” you finally answered, dropping the act.
“Do they scare you?” he asked, as unconcerned with your shift in demeanor as he had been with everything else.
“They’re definitely ugly,” you said. Gojo snorted in amusement at that. You looked down to consider a real answer, pushing the chunks of ice at the bottom of your cup around with the straw. “I’m not scared of them. They’re dangerous, but more like how a wild animal is dangerous.”
“Is that why you warn people?”
You shrugged.
“Hmm,” he hummed, stroking his chin thoughtfully, staring at you through the bandage. It really was a creepy feeling. “Something still isn’t adding up. Sorcerers are more likely to come into contact with curses, but you’re not reacting to cursed activity; you’re predicting it. Moreover, the places who reported your warnings have no other connection. It’s unlikely that you were coincidentally nearby to feel the cursed energy.”
“Sorcerers?” you asked, continuing to push your straw around your cup idly, the ice crackling.
“People who can see curses and manipulate cursed energy. You could also call them curse users. Of course, I don’t think you’re either. At least, not yet.” He gestured to you with his drink. “You’re avoiding the question.”
“You didn’t ask me a question.”
“Didn’t I?” he asked with a frown. “Ah, whatever,” he waved it off dismissively. “How are you finding and predicting curses?”
“I use a map,” you told him, like it was obvious. It was obvious to you, at least.
“A map,” he repeated bluntly. Without any aura to read, you wished you could see his eyes at least.
“That’s usually how you find things, isn’t it?”
“You’re saying that you have a map that tells you where curses will manifest?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions,” you said. “I don’t think I should be talking so openly to a strange and mysterious man.”
“Mysterious? I told you, I’m Satoru Gojo,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m a jujutsu sorcerer and a teacher at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. If anything, you’re the strange one for going around cryptically warning people about evil spirits. ”
You narrowed your eyes at him, pursing your lips. The logical part of your mind rejected everything he was saying outright, it sounded made up. Then again, you knew there was some truth to what he was saying, even if the words he used were different than your own. The fact was, it seemed like he had more information than you. You didn’t like that.
“You warn people about these curses in an attempt to protect them,” Gojo said, his tone softening a little as he tried to level with you, “but they never believe you, and so they get hurt anyway. Doesn’t that bother you?”
You shrugged. “It does sound pretty ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Gojo said. “Nobody believes you see the things you see, or that you have a very special gift, but I do. If you tell me how you predict these curses, I’ll teach you how to take care of the problem yourself. More than that, I can teach you how to use your cursed energy to do things nobody else can.”
He had you on the line with that one, and he knew it. You didn’t have to be able to read his aura or look in his eyes to understand that smug grin.
“I read once that mediums could perform a sort of dowsing technique with maps,” you said, giving in. “I’ve always had a knack for divination, so I tried it out. Even with my eyes closed and using different maps, I could reliably find and mark the same spot. It didn’t really turn out how I wanted it to though.”
“How so?”
“You’ve seen TV shows and videos about hauntings where ghost hunters dig up all kinds of scary and interesting stories, right? I was hoping it’d be like that. You know, exciting. Instead I marked a lot of schools and hospitals and that sort of thing.”
“That makes sense,” Gojo said. “Curses tend to congregate in places like that.”
“Well, I was disappointed. But then I started hearing news stories about people getting hurt in places that I marked on my map. I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want it on my conscience.”
Gojo nodded thoughtfully. “This… dowsing ability, can you do it on purpose, or does it happen randomly?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I got you a map right now, could you mark places where a curse will manifest?”
“It depends on if there’s a place on the map where a curse will manifest,” you said.
Rather than get offended by your cheeky response, Gojo carried on. “Are there any locations you’re watching out for at the moment? Other than the library, I mean.”
You considered that question. “I’ll tell you, but if this is for a TV show, I don’t consent to being on camera,” you said. “Not wearing this, at least.”
He laughed. “This is not for a TV show,” Gojo said. “Although, if it was, I don’t know why you would need to change your clothes. You’re cute, the messy look is endearing.”
“Ah, I guess you are blind after all,” you said imperiously, pulling out your phone to find the website of the other place you had marked. “There’s an antique shop. I don’t think anything has happened there yet. I tried calling, but the guy got angry. I guess lots of people try to claim things there are haunted to get a discount or something.”
“Do you have the address?”
“Yep, right… here-” You flipped the screen towards him. He peered at it for a second before smiling again.
“Oh, lucky! I know somebody who should be just nearby.” He pulled out his own phone, dialing a number.
“You said you exorcized the curse at the library,” you said, “will you do it there too?”
“If there’s a curse there, yes.” Gojo pressed call and put his phone to his ear. After a few rings, you heard a voice on the other end. The exchange was short, he gave the address and some words of encouragement. You couldn’t hear specifics, but it didn’t sound like the person was too pleased.
“I don’t know for sure that something is there,” you said after he lowered his phone.
“Have you ever been wrong?”
“I haven’t followed through on every lead,” you said. “There are potentially dozens of times that I’ve been wrong.”
“But all of the ones you’ve tracked have been correct, yes?”
You smiled. “Yes.”
“What an interesting ability,” he cooed. “And you possess a respectable amount of cursed energy. I knew it. You should come to study to be a jujutsu sorcerer.”
“What?”
“I told you that I could teach you how to use your abilities, didn’t I? You’re a bit old to be scouted, but everybody starts somewhere. I think you have the potential to be a great sorcerer.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not at all.”
“You said you teach high school, didn’t you?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’m almost through my third year. It would be strange to transfer so late, I wouldn’t want to do anything to risk my graduation.”
“Do you have plans for after you graduate? Work? University?”
“I’m going to study business.”
“Really? You don’t strike me as the business type.”
You gave him a very flat look. “You don’t strike me as the teacher type.”
Gojo laughed. “You got me there. I’m only saying that you go to university so you can get a job, right? If you study at Jujutsu Tech, you will have a guaranteed job upon graduation.”
“What kind of job?”
“Exorcizing curses, saving the world, that kind of thing,” he said, waving his hand casually. “It’s not something many people can do, you know. You have to be a special mixture of brave and crazy to face curses knowing you could get hurt—knowing that others could get hurt if you fail. It’s tiresome, scary, and you very rarely see much of a reward.”
“You’re not exactly selling this.”
“Really?” Gojo asked. “You look plenty interested to me. You don’t want to live the rest of your life being normal and bored, do you? You’re too special for that.”
You blew out a big breath, trying to think independently of this whole bizarre situation and the fact that his flattery was more effective than it should have been.
“I’m still not sure I believe you,” you said. “Isn’t there some sort of saying that you should never trust somebody who hides their face? An innocent young girl like me could get hurt trusting scary men like you.”
“Scary?” Gojo repeated.
“You are, aren’t you? I can feel it.”
“You mean that you can sense my cursed energy?”
“Is that like an aura?” you asked. “Because I can’t read yours. That hardly ever happens.”
“Aura?”
You narrowed your eyes. “You know, spiritual energy and emotion and that sort of thing.”
“Ah, this might be a difference in terminology. This is cursed energy,” Gojo said, raising his hand and curling his fingers as if holding something. The intimidating energy that surrounded him pooled there, a dark shroud around his hand. All of the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, the discomfort prickling like thousands of little needles poking against your skin. “Is this what you mean?”
“No, that’s… Bleh,” you said, exaggerating your shudder. “I’m talking about aura. People’s emotions, their mental state. I think your cursed energy is stifling yours, I don’t know. Or maybe you’re not human.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, lowering his hand, the dark energy flowing back into him. “I think you have the potential to be a wonderful sorcerer.”
“Really?”
“I’ll teach you. I’m the best, you know. Aren’t you tired of knowing that there’s a problem you can’t fix? Do you think you can live a life of ignorance now that you know there are answers?”
Before you could respond, his phone rang.
“Yes?” Gojo asked, taking the call. Whatever the person on the other end said made him smile. “Sure, sure. You can’t leave it there, I’ll transfer you the money… Yes, of course.”
He hung up and leaned forward, dropping the phone and cradling his cheek in his hand.
“There was a cursed object there,” he told you. “It would have been a while before the seal unraveled enough to be noticeable, but it was only a matter of time before it began attracting curses.”
“If you take it away, that means the place will be safe?”
“We’ll keep an eye on it to be sure, but, generally, yes. You saved innocent people from being harmed by an unseen evil. They will be allowed to continue on living their boring, mundane lives. That’s what a jujutsu sorcerer does.”
You nodded thoughtfully. It was the smartest choice to simply reject him and leave and move on with your life.
Most likely.
Absolutely.
But when you mentally followed that course of action to its completion, you knew that a part of you would always exist in this little cafe sitting across from the strangest man you had ever met considering an offer that scared and excited you. You would always wonder about the answers he promised, every day you would wonder if there was something more.
“If everything you’re saying is true-” you began.
“It is.”
“-then I’ll consider it.”
Gojo smiled. “I’ll have Ijichi get your transfer paperwork pushed through. We’ll have to move fast, you have a lot of missed time to make up for. You don’t mind, do you?”
“I said that I’ll consider it,” you told him, taken aback by his presumptuousness.
“Sure, sure,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be in contact soon, okay? Be ready.”
Despite your attempt to retain a certain amount of resistance and control over the situation, things moved exactly as fast as Gojo said they would. He was telling the truth about all of it. There was such a place as Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, and he was a teacher, and although being such a late transfer was weird, it was all legitimate.
The explanations were easier than you thought too. Mom was utterly charmed by Satoru Gojo. He came to your house wearing expensive clothes and a pair of sunglasses with his white hair flipped boyishly over his brow and explained the situation with a big, charming smile and the most disarmingly blue eyes you had ever seen and she was putty in his hands. She didn’t always believe you about spirits—curses, as Gojo called them—but she believed it from him, enthusing about how she’d always known you were special, and that you could do things nobody else could. It was moments like sitting in the room seeing Mom’s aura flash and sparkle with attraction and desire that made you wish you didn’t have the ability to see them.
Not even two weeks after the cafe conversation with Satoru Gojo, you were packing up and moving to live on the Tokyo Jujutsu High campus grounds. As you packed, you thought a lot about the first time you saw an evil spirit. You screamed and screamed. It wasn’t until your grandmother came and comforted you that you calmed down. She had that effect on people. Making them comfortable, making them feel safe.
Throughout your life, you flirted with divination and spirits and dark energy mostly for your own gain and amusement, but she was a real deal spiritual woman. If she were alive, she wouldn’t have liked who you were. That had been true for a while. You wondered what she would think of you going to study to exorcize curses, if that would have met with her approval. You wondered what dad would think. It had always been his plan that you should go to university. He wanted you to be educated before you got married. Funny, because he abandoned his university educated career-driven wife for some ditzy young thing he met at a bar.
It was kind of funny to think that, in the end, you wouldn’t go to university and you wouldn’t get married. Spite wasn’t a good primary reason to do something, but you couldn’t deny the frantic heat of its inspiration.
“I don’t know,” Haruka said, her voice distorted through your phone’s speaker as you unpacked your things. The room you were given on the Jujutsu Tech campus was larger than you thought it would be, although it didn’t look nearly so big with your stuff strewn everywhere. Mom laughed at your materialism, but you didn’t want to be underprepared. “I like him, but I don’t think he likes me back.”
You slipped a shirt onto its hanger, rolling your eyes at her dramatics. “The only way you’ll know is if you ask him.”
“It’s weird for him, I think. ‘Cause I’m still in school. I mean, there’s barely a year difference between us, but… I don’t know. Maybe it is weird. If my mom knew I was dating Ikki, she’d flip out.”
“Then don’t ask him out.”
Haruka sighed. “I wish she was like your mom. She lets you do basically whatever you want.”
That stung, although you weren’t entirely sure she meant it to. “The way I see it,” you said, sidestepping that comment, “it won’t be weird after you’re out of school. Wait a few months, it’s not like you’re going to have time with exams going on.”
“I wish you were here. Now when I make bad decisions I don’t have anyone to blame them on.”
You laughed. “I was thinking the same thing. I can’t copy your homework anymore, why even bother being friends?”
“Because,” Haruka said, clearly taking offense, “I am-”
“Knock knock,” somebody called through the open door, startling you. You turned to watch Gojo come in, looking around your room while Haruka rattled off all of the many reasons she was an invaluable friend to you. Well, you assumed he was looking around your room. He had returned to the bandages covering half his face, hiding his impossibly beautiful eyes.
“One second, Haruka… Can I help you?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow to hide the flicker of excitement you felt seeing him.
“Oh, are you talking to someone?” Gojo asked. “I can come back later.”
“Ah, no, that’s fine,” you told him, very easily deciding that you would rather talk to him than listen to Haruka’s boy troubles. “Haru, I’ve gotta go,” you said, picking up your phone. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Is that a man’s voice?” she asked. “Why is he in your room, what kind of school is that? Is-”
You ended the call, cutting her off. “Do you need something?” you asked.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“You didn’t,” you said, returning to hanging up your clothes. “Although she’s probably going to tell everyone this whole transfer thing was an elaborate lie to cover for the fact that I got knocked up and ran away with some guy. I’m not sure why, but nobody believes I’ve dedicated myself to a strict religious lifestyle.”
“How much do they know about your abilities?” Gojo asked, walking over to your bed and sitting down, grabbing one of the stray magazines off the floor. He flicked through the glossy pages of fashion advice and gossip with a distinct lack of interest.
You snorted, hanging up one of your last few dresses. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all,” Gojo said, dropping the magazine to flip through another. “It can be very isolating to keep such a big secret from the people closest to you.”
“It would be such a drag to explain,” you said. “Besides, nobody wants to know that things like curses exist. They just want to live their normal lives where things make sense.”
Gojo hummed in amusement. “Is that really the only reason?”
The tone of his voice set you on edge. It sounded like he was implying something. “What do you mean?”
“It would make things more difficult for you if anybody knew you could read their mind, wouldn’t it?”
You frowned at him, although he didn’t seem to be paying attention. “First of all,” you said, putting a hand on your hip, “I can’t read minds. Second of all, it’s not like I’m actively trying to spy on people. I can’t help it.”
“Calm down,” he said with a smile, tossing the magazine aside. “I wasn’t making any comment on your character. It was an observation.”
“Right,” you said, forcing yourself to let it go. “By the way, where is everyone else? The rooms around me all look empty.”
Gojo waved his hand nonchalantly, standing up. “There aren’t any other third year girls.”
“Did something happen?”
“No, it’s not abnormal. Jujutsu sorcerers are extremely rare.” Gojo walked towards the wall you had half covered with various posters and decorations. “I heard your admission interview went well.”
“Of course it did,” you said, smiling. He didn’t see it, too focused on the map. You had it set up on your wall like you had at home, ready in case the mood struck.
“That’s the library,” Gojo said, tapping a finger against the marked spot. His fingers were long. Considering his abnormal height, it was hardly surprising. It was attractive though. You shut that thought down fast. You could acknowledge it as a fact, but he was your teacher now. Besides, he probably had women throwing themselves at him from all angles, you’d rather be celebate than be reduced to one of the many.
“And right there,” you said, coming up behind him to point at another mark, “is the-”
“Antique shop,” he shot you a smile over his shoulder. “What an interesting ability.”
“Isn’t this sort of thing normal for, um, jujutsu sorcerers?” you asked, the term coming out a little awkwardly.
“Not at all. Sorcerers are highly individualistic. There are inherited techniques, but many of them are unique to the sorcerer. They’re innate, carved into your frontal lobe.” He tapped his forehead, turning towards you.
“But you can do the same thing,” you said. “Reading people’s auras and all of that.” You grinned, raising your eyebrows playfully. “You’ve got a third eye.”
“Six Eyes, actually,” Gojo said. “Although it does seem like you have a related form of extrasensory perception.” He threw an arm around your shoulders, swaying you back and forth. “You’re a little mini me! Isn’t that exciting?”
The sudden touch made you stiffen up, too surprised to react immediately. The only coherent thought you had was that he smelled really good. You shook that out of your head, pushing at his arm in a half-hearted attempt to get some space.
“What can you do then?” you asked. “Can you teach me?”
Gojo stopped swaying you around. “Weren’t you listening to anything I said? Jujutsu techniques are-”
“-innate and unique,” you finished for him. “But you can teach me how to get better at my own techniques if they’re like yours, right?”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Gojo said, stepping away. “If you try to run before you learn to walk, you’ll fall on your face. You’re getting a late start, so you’re going to have to work hard.” He raised his pointer finger to lecture you. “You’ll start by getting control over your cursed energy.”
“Okay,” you said, nodding. “How do I do that?”
“First! You clean your room,” he said. “It’s a mess in here. Then come to the classroom. I’ll have to find Oyama.”
“Who’s Oyama?”
“The other third year. He’ll be able to help you when I’m not here.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Are you disappointed?” Gojo cooed, leaning forward to put himself on your level, pursing his lips in a mocking display of pity. “As much as I would love to teach my cute little student personally, I have obligations to fulfill as a sorcerer. I hope you don’t miss me too much in the meantime.”
You gave him a flat look, hiding your genuine disappointment behind your irritation at the mockery. “I’m sure I’ll live.”
“That’s the spirit!” Gojo said, patting your head. “Okay!” He stood up straight, turning away. “Don’t take too long,” he called as he left, “I hate having to wait.”
“I’m sure this will only take me four or five hours,” you said. “Maybe six. I hope you don’t miss me too much in the meantime.”
Gojo didn’t respond to your taunt, shooting you a final smile over his shoulder, one that was all blinding white teeth. The covered eyes made it more menacing than playful.
“I hate it when you ignore my calls,” Mom said. “It’s been over a week since you gave me any sort of update. There’s only so much time I have to talk to you, so when you don’t answer, I have no idea what to think.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you said in as apologetic a voice as you could fake, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you did your nails. It was a futile effort, there was no way you could keep your hands manicured. All you could do was fight back your cuticles and paint your nails knowing they would be chipped the next day. “I spend all my time training, studying, or exhausted from training and studying. Do you remember Gojo talking about how being a late transfer meant a lot of extra work? I want to succeed here, so I have to put in the work.”
As you hoped, the apology and mention of Gojo quelled some of her fire. “Oh, well, I still expect you to keep me informed.”
“I know,” you said. “Really, there’s not much to say.” Other than going out on a mission with Oyama for the first time and helping him exorcize a nasty curse that you helped to find with your unique ability, but you weren’t going to tell her that. You were saving that for when Gojo came back from whatever mission he was off doing. Instead, you painted a lick of red onto your pinky nail, carefully working the color into the edges. “How are you?” you asked her. “You mentioned you were seeing that guy from the lab?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I had to end things with him,” Mom said. “He was a real piece of work.”
“Oh, no you didn’t. I’m sorry,” you apologized, capping the nail polish bottle and appraising your hands. Serviceable, under the circumstances.
“You know how men are. You think they’re fine, but they turn out to be completely crazy.” She huffed, you could imagine the way she would shake her head. “Actually, I’ve been spending some time with a man from the second floor. It’s going really well.”
“Oh, that’s exciting!” you exclaimed with enthusiasm, rolling your eyes. She was almost as bad as Haruka with the boy drama. You wanted her to be happy, of course you did, but having to hear about her messy romantic life got tiresome.
“When you get back, maybe the four of us can go out for dinner.”
“Four?”
“He has a daughter. She’s a little younger than you, I’m sure the two of you would get along really well.”
“Yeah, that sounds fun,” you said, really scooping deep to manage an enthusiastic tone. “I’m just not sure when I’ll be able to get some time away. Like I said, I’m very busy.”
“It’s been two months, surely you can ask Gojo for one weekend home.”
“I’ll ask him,” you told her, making sure she could hear your doubt. Hopefully this fling wouldn’t last long, you really couldn’t stomach the thought of feigning interest in some stranger’s daughter.
Content that your nails were dry, you peeled your phone away from your ear.
“But I’ve gotta go for now,” you told her. “I promised Oyama I’d study with him. You know, final exams.”
Another lie, although one you didn’t feel as bad about. In reality, final exams at Jujutsu Tech weren’t at all like at a normal school. You would still be graduating, but not through lengthy tests. It felt a little cheap to have all of your studying go to waste, but you weren’t about to complain.
“Yes, of course,” Mom replied. “Don’t forget to keep me informed, alright?”
“Got it,” you said. “I’ll talk to you later. Love you, bye.”
“Love you.”
You hung up, tossed your phone to the side, and uncapped the bottle to paint your toenails.
Gojo returned a few days later with kitschy souvenirs from some small village you had never heard of and a big smile, eager to hear how you were progressing. For that matter, you were eager to share it with him. He hadn’t been gone too long, but you were working harder than you ever had before, and getting better accordingly.
“Okay!” Gojo said, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Tell me everything I’ve missed. How is your training?”
“I’m getting a lot better at controlling my cursed energy,” you said. “You can tell, can’t you?”
“I can,” Gojo said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a little smile. “What about your hand-to-hand training?”
You frowned at how quickly he brushed over your impressive accomplishment. Even Oyama was a little impressed by how quickly you adapted to the natural movement of cursed energy. Once again, you tried to get a read on Gojo’s state of mind to know what he was thinking, but it was as impossible as before.
“I got punched in the face for the first time,” you said.
The comment didn’t have the intended effect of eliciting amusement or confusion. Instead: “Did you deserve it?”
“What?” you asked, indignant. “No, not like that. I was sparring with Oyama and I realized that I’d never been punched in the face, so I asked him to. It seems like the sort of thing I needed to experience.”
“And what did you learn?”
“That Oyama enjoyed it way too much, and I needed to buy waterproof mascara. It made my eyes water like crazy.”
Gojo laughed, but didn’t give you anything else to work with.
“I’ve also learned that I’m really not into fistfighting,” you said, finally being serious. “I’ll definitely want to use weapons.”
“Your cursed technique is more effective the closer you are to the opponent, isn’t it?” Gojo asked. “So you’ll want something that can work at very close range.”
“But first I’ll have to learn how to reliably close the distance. I’m not fast enough. Yet.”
Gojo nodded thoughtfully. “Speed is important, but reading your opponent is more valuable in that situation,” he said. “If you ask nicely, I may be able to help.”
“I have to ask?”
He sighed dramatically. “My time is in high demand.”
“Some teacher you are,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes in as exaggerated of a way as possible.
“Watch your tone,” Gojo told you, wagging a finger. “You don’t want detention, do you?”
“I’m so sorry, sensei,” you said, batting your eyelashes. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”
He didn’t immediately respond to the taunt which, when you couldn’t get a read on his mood anyway, was oddly unsettling.
“You’re lucky I’m such a kind, patient man,” he finally said, his voice softer than before. “That cheeky tone could get you in trouble.”
“I’ve heard that you’re way worse,” you said. “I’ve heard that all of the higher-ups think you’re a nuisance. I’m only trying to be more like you, sensei.”
“You might find you don’t enjoy where that gets you,” he said. The tenor of his voice was playful, but the tension beneath wasn’t.
“You wouldn’t do anything,” you said, hoping to laugh it off.
He smiled, but didn’t laugh.
“I heard what happened in Shinjuku,” Gojo said before things got too awkward. “You were able to identify the type and motivation of the curses and warn Oyama. That’s impressive.”
“Oh… Yeah, thank you,” you said. “It wasn’t that difficult once I understood what type of place it was. Officially, it was a club, but that was only a front for their prostitution scheme. Of course the curses would hate men.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking, with proper honing, you might reach a point where you can perceive the nature of a technique before it can be used against you.”
“Really?” you asked, excited by the idea. It sounded like an impressive trick.
“It’s possible, certainly. But,” he pointed at you, “you’re a long way off from developing a skill that complex. Don’t get distracted from working on the basics.”
“I know, I know,” you said, trying not to seem too petulant. “I know I have to practice with my cursed energy, but sensing things about people and curses, that’s intuitive.”
“It’s hard on you, isn’t it?” Gojo asked, although it wasn’t much of a question. “Your ability is empathetic, not sympathetic. To understand what you’re facing, you have to let it in. That can be very dangerous. You have to carefully control it.”
“It’s not comfortable,” you allowed. “But I can do it.”
“To know the nature of the curse is to be confronted with the absolute worst of humanity, and it very well could end with you cursing them in turn.”
“I won’t let it get to me.”
“Not to mention how dangerous it is, I’ve known sorcerers who are rendered entirely catatonic just through proximity to especially strong curses, and that’s with their defenses up.”
“I can handle it,” you insisted, frowning.
Gojo paused, considering you with his head tilted curiously to the side.
“You said you asked Oyama to punch you in the face,” he said. “You might be a bit of a masochist, but I assume you were looking for that experience in a controlled environment.”
“Yeah, something like that,” you said, too caught off guard by the change of topic to properly react to the masochist comment.
“That’s smart, actually,” Gojo said. “Come here, I want to show you something.”
“Show me what?” you asked, frowning.
“The danger of special grade cursed energy. Come here, I don’t want to cast too wide a net and catch anyone else. This is for educational purposes only, alright?”
“Okay,” you said, hopping off your desk and approaching him.
“What do you feel?” Gojo asked, pushing away from the big desk to stand up straight. His height continuously took you by surprise. Maybe you’d find loafers with more of a heel, it was annoying to have to look up at him like this.
“Not much. You’re as mysterious as ever,” you said, an unmistakable note of bitterness in your tone.
“Okay then. Are you ready?” Gojo asked.
“Go ahead,” you said, bracing yourself. You knew cursed energy, you had felt it both from sorcerers and actual curses. You thought you were prepared.
You were not prepared.
Cursed energy flared out around him in an oppressive wave, capturing you in its field. The only thing you could think was that you were going to die. There was nothing you could think to compare it to. Fear flooded your system, it was all that existed. Not the fear of pain or death or any human threat, but complete and total destruction. Cellular annihilation, the ruination of the thing that was ‘you’ until not one part remained. You couldn’t move. His cursed energy snuffed that out, squishing down everything that wasn’t animalistic terror. When your legs gave out, you barely felt it, only the weakness of your body caving in. Gojo caught you before you fell, holding you up against him.
“The way you feel right now,” Gojo muttered, his voice soft and low, “this is what it is to be truly helpless. This is what you’re ultimately up against. Unless you’re prepared to endure the depths of hell, your arrogant curiosity will destroy you.”
Just like that, it was over.
You sobbed, hiding your face against his chest. It was pathetic, but you couldn’t control the entirely bodily reaction now that you were arrested with blind fear. Your body was practically vibrating from how violently you were shaking. Never in your life had you experienced such horrific, visceral fear. It was worse than you would have thought, even though you were never actually in any danger.
“Ah, maybe that was too much,” Gojo said regretfully, patting your back.
“Wha-aa-as that-t yo—uor te-eh-chnique?” you asked, your stammered words muffled against his chest. How embarrassing.
“That? No. If I had used my technique, your brain would be mush right now.” Gojo ran his hand over your hair, almost affectionately stroking it. “Do you need me to carry you to your room? I wouldn’t mind.”
Your hands tightened in the front of his uniform, although you couldn’t recall when you began holding onto him. Gojo hummed, petting your hair again, his hand idly lowering to your back, and then your waist, and your hip.
It was only a flicker, a fraction of a second, but you felt the barest whisper of glee. Lust. For blood or otherwise, you didn’t have the capacity to tell, but the impression was in such stark opposition to your own tumultuous feelings that it startled you.
You gasped, stumbling away from Gojo like he’d shocked you. Luckily, you managed to catch yourself on the edge of one of the desks rather than fall. He was, as ever, completely inscrutable. Whatever you thought you felt, it was gone as fast as it struck.
Unable to read anything else from the man, you decided that it was your imagination, a subsequent reaction born from a panicked brain. It was difficult to hold onto the feeling of primal terror now that it wasn’t actively battering down your defenses. Without any actual danger, your brain couldn’t generate the same intensity. With shaking hands, you wiped beneath your eyes, keeping them averted.
“That was embarrassing, I’m sorry,” you said.
“This isn’t too bad of a reaction. It’s kind of cute, actually.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” you agreed with breathless sarcasm, trying very hard to compose yourself. “For the record, I preferred being punched in the face.”
“I’m sure,” Gojo said with a little laugh. “Well,” he clapped his hands together, effectively ending the report, “you look like you could use a break, let’s go see what’s for lunch.”
“It’s so stupid,” Haruka said, her sniffling voice crinkling through your phone's speaker.
You laid on your back while listening to her cry, staring at your dorm’s plain ceiling. Things with Ikki hadn’t gone well. Normally you could at least pretend to care about her love life, but your thoughts were elsewhere.
“I knew he didn’t like me, I just thought since he was so nice and-”
It pissed you off to be so consumed by thoughts of one man, but it felt like there was a whirlpool in your head. You could fight it for a while, but all too soon your thoughts would return to your enigmatic teacher. Back and forth, back and forth, you bounced between trying to convince yourself to be realistic about yourself and the creeping paranoia that there was something going on.
Gojo was a very physical sort of person. It was conceited to think he’d be interested in you when he was attractive enough to get any woman he reasonably wanted. He was only helping you. It wasn’t intimate. Even if it felt a little strange, that was normal for combat training, wasn’t it?
He was interested in you. He was taking advantage of his role as your teacher, teasing you for his own amusement. That flash of lust was real, and it warned you of danger. The awkward nerves you felt around him were rational.
Back and forth and back and forth and-
“Hello?” Haruka snapped.
“Ah, um, yeah, I’m really sorry, Haru,” you said, realizing after a beat of silence that you had missed your cue.
“Whatever. I know you don’t get it.” She sniffed and then cleared her throat, composing herself. “I don’t suppose you know any hot guys, do you?”
“No dice,” you told her, although your thoughts went in a different direction. Gojo was hot, but he was also older than you and your teacher and there was no way. You rubbed your temple as if you could physically drive out the intrusive thoughts. It was pure ego.
In any other situation, you would be able to check for sure, but not with him. That was it. You didn’t know, and so you were making assumptions. Everything was normal, you were the one acting like a fool, self-obsessed enough to think you were getting the attention of an attractive older man.
“When you visit, we’ll have to go out looking for guys,” Haruka said. “I want to do something crazy before classes start.”
“I’m sure I can find a way to sneak out,” you joked. Mostly joking. You weren’t confined on campus, it was a little hard to find time.
That weekend, Gojo was gone, Oyama was busy, and you had the day to yourself. Rather than wasting it on campus, you hopped on a bus to the Tokyo station and took the train to Yokohama. You thought you would feel different returning to familiar stomping grounds after being away so long, but you didn’t. Nothing ever really changed.
That thought struck you especially when you spotted a pretty girl in a red sundress lackadaisically scrolling on her phone on a bench at the station. Haruka Inaba consistently scored top marks in every class, volunteered at hospitals in her free time, and reigned over the school’s tennis club throughout her second and third year of high school. She was the type of girl other girls wished they were.
A cursory look over your social media timeline would present picture after picture of the two of you having fun together, and she was the only person you had ever told about your dad leaving your mom for a younger woman. In short, she was your best friend.
Although, it might have been more accurate to say you had entered into an alliance. Everybody had a face they preferred other people didn’t see, when you were honest with someone that made you close, but didn’t necessarily foster a lot of affection.
“I hope you didn’t wait too long,” you said, greeting her with a smile.
“It was no big deal,” she told you. “The station’s on the way to the mall anyway.”
“Well then, shall we?” you asked.
“Of course,” Haruka said, getting to her feet and tossing her hair back to expose her perfectly smooth neck and shoulder, a very practiced gesture. “I’m surprised your mom didn’t come. You haven’t seen her since you left, have you?”
Internally, you rolled your eyes at how obvious the question was. Testing pressure points, or just looking for gossip.
“She’s a busy woman, I wouldn’t ask her to spend her day off with me,” you lied as you shuffled into the crowd of foot traffic flowing out of the station and onto the street. Mom didn’t even know you were in town. “Besides, I hate shopping with her.”
“That’s fair. What are you looking for today?”
“Athletic wear that isn’t hideous.”
“Do you do a lot of exercise at that new school of yours?” she asked, saying ‘school’ like it was a joke.
You shrugged. So far, you had been vague about Jujutsu Tech. It was impossible to be specific without sounding insane. Besides, Haruka only wanted to know more so she could dismiss the idea that you were special enough to be scouted for an incredibly upscale and mysterious school and she wasn’t.
“A bit,” you said. “What time are we meeting Fumiko and Kaoru?”
“The movie starts at four-fifteen,” Haruka told you.
“Oh, Ikki’s coming too,” you said. “I hope you don’t mind, Kaoru invited him before I could ask him not to.”
Haruka smiled tightly, her aura flashing aggressively. “Why would I mind?”
You let that one go, knowing better than to rub it in.
After that, you and Haruka relaxed into a far more superficial, casual dynamic. Clothes were a great unifier, and she had great taste.
The world was set right. No curses, no fighting, no second guessing people’s feelings. The other three showed up around lunch. There was still some strain with Haruka and the ever-oblivious Ikki, but you pretended you didn’t notice. The movie was boring, the dinner conversation even more-so, but you were rewarded with a milkshake out in the open air plaza.
Haruka and Fumiko were arguing with Kaoru about action versus drama movies. You wondered what type of movie Gojo preferred, if either. He was capable of stunts cooler than any action hero, but you weren’t sure he’d buy into drama either.
Was that some sort of mystical divination, your errant thoughts predicting the future? Probably not, although it was concerning that your thoughts would stray to him so easily.
You realized someone was behind you a fraction of a second before their big hands were covering your eyes. “Guess who,” he said. He, as in, one of the few people who could easily sneak up on you, who could make you nearly jump out of your skin, your cursed energy flaring and heart racing.
You grabbed Gojo’s wrists, pulling his hands away from your eyes and turning to face him. He wore a casual button-up, a pair of retro round lensed sunglasses, and a huge grin.
“Who are you?” Ikki asked, his body tensed and halfway out of his seat.
“It’s alright,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “This is…” you said, looking at Gojo as you tried to think of an answer.
“I’m her teacher, Satoru Gojo,” he finished for you with a megawatt smile, waving to your friends. Haruka looked impressed, her eyes dragging over him without even an attempt at subtlety. The other three looked at him with a range from mild interest to outright hostility.
“I thought you were on a mi—a business trip,” you said.
“I finished early,” Gojo said, wedging himself between you and Ikki to wrap an arm around your shoulder. The stool was high enough that he didn’t have to lean down very much, but he still almost pulled you out of the seat. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” His face was right next to yours. You couldn’t look at him, not when he was peering over the top of his sunglasses, giving you the full weight of his beautiful eyes.
You cleared your throat, irritated that he would go out of his way to embarrass you. “This is Ikki, Haruka, Fumiko, and Kaoru,” you told him, gesturing to them in turn.
“You’re more than welcome to join us, Gojo,” Haruka said, leaning forward with her eyes fixed directly on Gojo. “She’s spoken very highly of you.”
“She didn’t say you were so young,” Ikki said, clearly disgruntled by the way Gojo had pushed him aside. “Are you really a teacher?”
“Ah, you flatter me!” Gojo said, laughing a little louder than appropriate. “Well, as much as I would love to stick around to hear embarrassing stories about my cute little student, it’s time for us to get going.” He released you, standing up straight. “It was nice meeting you all.”
He couldn’t be serious.
“Us?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. There’s something we need to do before going back to campus. It’s time sensitive, we have to hurry.”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” you said. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“No, it can’t. Come on.”
You played out the scenario where you continued to argue, but all of them ended with the same eventuality. He was, no matter what else, your teacher. Sighing dramatically, you slung your bags over your arm and stood up.
“I guess I have to go,” you said. “It was fun, I’ll see you later.” Fumiko and Kaoru smiled back, but Haruka was fixated on Gojo. You could practically see the hearts swirling in her aura. Ikki was unamused on the edge of hostile, glaring at Gojo who had put his hands in his pockets, unconcerned.
“Okay,” you said, turning away from your friends. “Lead the way.”
Gojo smiled. “Don’t worry,” he told you, taking off with his long-legged strides, “it’s not far.”
“Is there a job?” you asked, trotting behind him to catch up. The plaza was congested with the late afternoon crowd, it was a bit of a battle to make your way out until you reached the equally crowded sidewalk.
“It’s something very important,” Gojo told you. “Time is of the essence. Can’t you walk any faster?”
“In these shoes?” you asked incredulously, coming to a stop beside him as you waited for the crosswalk light to turn.
“I’ve never understood that,” Gojo said, looking at your feet. “Why wear something that you can’t move around in? I’d hate that.”
“Because these shoes are adorable and they make my legs look great,” you said, once again rushing to keep up with him as he crossed the road.
“Oho?” Gojo asked, slowing his stride to look at you with a smile. “Are you trying to impress somebody?”
“I want to impress everyone,” you said.
“It was that guy you were sitting next to, wasn’t it?” he asked knowingly. “Are you dating?”
“Ikki?” you asked. Your nose scrunched up at the idea, you could only imagine Haruka’s reaction. “No, we’re not.”
“Really? He was very protective of you.”
You shrugged, not really interested in that particular topic.
“How was your trip?” you asked, prompting him to tell you about England. When you thought about the city of London, you imagined big stone castles crawling with translucent ghosts in huge gowns, but he said it was just a regular city with regular boring curses.
You weren’t as disappointed by that as you might have been otherwise, too busy trying to keep up. Apparently, not far meant something completely different to Gojo than to you, although part of that was that he refused to slow down for your sake. It was almost like he was amused by forcing you to scramble behind him, but you didn’t want to think he would be that rude just for his own entertainment.
It was a huge relief when he stopped in front of a collection of businesses. “Wait here,” Gojo said, grabbing your shoulders and pressing down as if to plant you in place.
“Yes, sir.”
He went into the store and you waited dutifully, looking around at the people passing by. You felt out the area curiously, but there wasn’t much. People’s auras that projected regular, boring emotions and some vague, stale residuals, the tumultuous swirl of rotten energy that swarmed the city like a foul stench. Nothing out of the ordinary.
It was difficult not to replay his questions in your head, it really only added to the confusing mess of nerves and doubt you felt when you thought about Gojo. Why would it matter if you were dating Ikki or not? It wasn’t his business whatsoever. But really, not that you would ever openly acknowledge it, the idea that Satoru Gojo would give you attention in that way was thrilling. Not good, not bad, just thrilling. It was because of who he was, you knew that rationally, and you knew that was a weird and childish way to think. There was no way he had any inappropriate sentiments towards you, no more than you did him.
When you thought about it like that, you just got irritated. With him and with yourself.
“Okay!” Gojo called, easily catching your attention as he left the store and came to stand by you. He held a little box from the bakery, although you couldn’t see what was in it. “Close your eyes and say ‘ahh’.”
“What?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing.
“Come on, do it,” he insisted.
You did as he said, making no attempts to hide your exasperation. Gojo pushed a pastry puff into your mouth, leaving a smear of cream over your bottom lip.
Chewing the pastry, you opened your eyes to Gojo’s eager smile. “Well? Delicious, right?” he asked, licking off the extra cream from the fingers that had just been in your mouth.
You nodded as you swallowed, more distracted by the way his tongue ran along his long fingers than the flavor. Which was ridiculous. “Are we waiting for someone?” you asked, forcing yourself to focus on that instead.
“No, we’re going back to campus. These are the best profiteroles I’ve ever tasted. We had to hurry—they make a fresh batch for the evening crowd.”
“So… there’s no job?” you asked.
“I never said it was,” he told you, popping another pastry in his mouth.
“This was the thing that was so important that I couldn’t spend time with my friends that I never see?” you pushed. “You’re not serious.”
“Are you mad?” Gojo asked. “I got some just for you.”
“I haven’t seen them in a long time,” you said. “And you were acting weird.”
“You are mad,” Gojo said, frowning. “I only wanted to share something nice with you. After all, you’ve been working so hard. I’m proud of you.”
“Is that it?” you asked. “Really?”
“What else?” he asked.
“Hello?” you asked after picking up the call. You were waiting for your laundry, half-heartedly leafing through a book about historical cursed objects.
“Did you make it back alright?” Haruka asked from the other end.
“I did,” you said. “I’m sorry about earlier. Gojo is a little… eccentric.”
“He’s gorgeous,” Haruka said. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your teacher was so hot.”
“He’s my teacher,” you said, surprised by the flare of irritation you felt at having her point it out. Of course he was hot, but you couldn’t acknowledge that. You wouldn’t want to anyway, not when you were still feeling so conflicted.
“Yeah but he’s young. What do you think, twenty-five? Twenty-six?”
“He’s my teacher,” you repeated.
“He’s not my teacher. Do you think he’s single? I didn’t see a ring.”
“No,” you said bluntly, closing the book with a snap.
“No, he’s not single?”
“I mean no, I’m not having this conversation with you,” you said. “It’s weird and disrespectful.”
“You’re kidding,” Haruka asked. “Since when do you care about that?”
That caught you off guard; you didn’t have an answer. Any response you could think of led to increasingly disquieting explanations. “I don’t think Gojo’s the dating type,” you told her, deciding to side-step that question completely. “He’s out of the city about as often as he’s here, so I doubt he’s got much time for that sort of thing.”
She hummed. “Maybe I can come visit you on campus. It’s just outside of Tokyo, right?”
“It’s a religious school,” you told her. “No visitors on campus.”
“That’s so lame. You should give me his number then.”
“Why would I do that?”
“For me,” Haruka said. “To mend my broken heart.”
“You can’t date my teacher.”
“I’m not looking to date him,” Haruka said. “Come on, you owe me. Please?”
“Look, Haru-” you began, ready to try to explain to her why it was a bad idea that wouldn’t go anywhere, but she cut you off.
“Unless you really are saving him for yourself,” Haruka said. “I guess I wouldn’t put it past you.”
You closed your mouth, swallowing your warning. For that, she could deal with another rejection. “Okay, I’ll ask.”
“Thank you!” Haruka said. “Okay, I gotta hurry to take a shower, text me. Don’t forget, okay?”
“I won’t,” you said, truly meaning it. “Goodnight.”
The next day, the sun was high and hot as you dropped down to sit next to Gojo on the field-side benches.
“Your form is looking much better,” Gojo said. “I like that outfit too. Is it new?”
You smiled, preening a little bit at the compliment. “Thank you, it is,” you said, smoothing your hair back. “You know, men don’t usually notice clothes.”
“I notice everything you do,” he said. “It’s the best way to keep track of your progress.”
“Right,” you said, smiling and accepting that with a nod, aggressively rejecting the fluttery nerves the comment inspired. “Sensei, may I ask you something personal?”
“Oh? What is it?
“Are you seeing anyone? Romantically, I mean.”
“That’s hardly an appropriate question to ask your teacher.”
“You asked me if I was dating someone,” you pointed out. “I’m only asking for a—a friend.”
“A friend?” Gojo repeated dubiously. “Well, you can tell your friend that I’m not seeing anyone. Not exclusively, at least.”
That confirmed that, at least. “And you’re okay with younger women?” you asked, acting more flustered than you felt. “My age, I mean. Or, you know, around my age. Not me, obviously.”
“It depends on the woman,” he said slowly, leaning forward with a little smile curling his lips. “What’s she like?”
“I guess you could say she’s kind of like me,” you said. “Some people think she’s difficult, but maybe you don’t mind that?”
“Is she secretly very shy?” he asked. “Perhaps because she’s afraid of her true feelings?”
“She is a little shy,” you allowed. “You’re intimidating sometimes, sensei. And it’s scandalous because you’re my teacher.”
“I won’t be your teacher forever.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“But I would hate for anyone to think I’m playing favorites.”
“It’s not like I’m asking for special treatment.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Not at all. I’d rather you keep the entire thing between you two,” you said, your tone reverting to its normal timbre.
“What?” Gojo asked, his voice flat with confusion.
“My friend Haruka. You met her yesterday. She asked me to give her your number and see if you were interested,” you said. “It’s the only way to make up for having to bail out on the plans we had last night. That’s okay, right? It was your fault.”
“Are you still mad at me for that?” Gojo asked.
“I’m not mad,” you pretended to consider his nonplussed expression for a moment. “You seemed interested before.”
“You were misleading me on purpose, weren’t you? How cruel. I thought you were a nice girl.”
“Misleading you? I don’t know what you mean, sensei. I told you I was asking for a friend.”
If you could see his eyes, you had a feeling they would be narrowed. “In that case, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”
You shrugged. “Your loss.” Taking a drink, you pumped yourself up and got to your feet. “Okay! I’m gonna win this next match for sure.”
You jumped off the benches. You did not win the next match. You did, however, feel as if you had scored some sort of petty victory with Gojo’s obvious confusion. You wondered if he truly thought you were making a pass at him and was willing to play along, or if it was just as much a game to him as you. If you could read him, you’d know. And it wouldn’t be a source of many late nights spent looking up at your ceiling wondering if you were reading too far into innocuous interactions.
But you couldn’t.
You shouldn’t have played into it. That was the conclusion you quickly drew as March rolled out into April and your training reached a feverish intensity. The more you trained, the stronger your Divination became, the more you realized how utterly outmatched you were, how unprepared. Not only with Jujutsu sorcery, but with your enigmatic teacher.
The interactions seemed so banal at face value, but they became the only thing you could think about. It was always something.
“Oh, look at you!” Gojo said, startling you as you were leaving campus one Saturday morning. “That’s very cute. Did you get all dressed up just for me? I’m flattered.”
“No, I was going to go out.”
“It’s for a boy, then. I see.”
You rolled your eyes impatiently. “If I was dressing up for you, I’d be dressing up for a guy. But I'm not.”
“Oh, but I just remembered,” Gojo said, snapping his fingers. “I’m taking you along on a job. You need more experience, don’t you?”
And he was always so close. Maddeningly close, finding any excuse to touch you.
“Oop, there’s an eyelash on your cheek,” Gojo said, leaning in close with his lips pursed as he pinched it off. “Okay! Make a wish!”
You resisted the urge to shrink back, looking at the bandage covering his eyes as impassively as you could. “I wish-”
“No, don’t tell me!” he said, waving his hands. “Otherwise it won’t come true.”
The two of you would be walking somewhere and he’d grabbed your hand. “No, no, we’re going this way,” he'd say, acting like it was the most casual thing in the world to entwine his fingers with your own to guide you.
And the other things, a friendly arm thrown over your shoulder, his hands physically adjusting your stance when practicing fighting, his relentless proximity, it added up. Added up to what? You didn’t know. Whenever you expressed discomfort, Gojo seemed so confused.
You thought that at least when he was away on missions, you would have space to breathe, but even then you felt his domineering influence.
“Where are you going?” Oyama asked.
“It’s not your business.”
“Is it an emergency?”
“No. I’m-”
“Then you need to be training, your hand to hand is still way too sloppy.”
And then it was:
“You marked a spot on your map, we should go check it out.”
“And it can only be done today,” you said flatly. “On the day I had off. When I specifically mentioned I wanted to go out.”
Oyama shrugged as if helpless. And, honestly, he probably was. You had a feeling you knew exactly where the orders were coming from.
When Gojo came back and you asked him about it, demanding some explanation, he looked utterly baffled by your confrontational tone.
“You need to focus,” Gojo said, frowning with concern, his aura as impenetrable as ever. “You’re still so far behind your fellow sorcerers.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to comfort you, his voice lowering intimately. “I know it’s difficult right now, but when you’re strong, you can do whatever you want.”
The string of cancellations as well as the thing with Gojo not working out was the breaking point for Haruka. She stopped inviting you places. More than once, you considered telling her the truth, coming clean about everything regarding Gojo’s strange behavior, but you didn’t.
Even if you told her the truth, that you weren’t necessarily trying to invite Gojo’s attention, it would validate the thing she first assumed when asking you to get his number for her. That was an old wound, an uncomfortable situation in high school with the tennis instructor. Besides, when you presented the case to yourself, it sounded insane. A handful of interactions with a man who was a bit eccentric, being restricted because you were so far behind other sorcerers.
Sometimes you felt insane, like you were missing something vital, drawing the wrong conclusions from inferred motivations because you couldn’t read Gojo like you could everyone else. You asked for a transfer to the Kyoto campus, and you clung to that. They said they would consider it, but you weren’t sure if they took it seriously. You couldn’t provide any details as to why you wanted to move, not even to yourself.
All you could do was lay in bed listening to white noise TV overthinking every comment he made and interactions you had, your thoughts caught in the endless back and forth of confusion.
“You weren’t there to greet me,” Gojo said, calling into the empty gym where you were stretching. He had been gone for three days and, unlike when you first began at Jujutsu Tech, you weren’t excitedly looking forward to his arrival. Or maybe you were? At least it was something other than the oppressive isolation and relentless training, but it only really upset you. “I got you a souvenir.”
“I’m good, thanks. Did you have a fun trip?” you asked in an icy tone, refusing to turn around to address him with respect.
“I wouldn’t call it fun, it’s work.”
“Still,” you insisted, rolling your shoulders, “it must be nice to have a little freedom.”
An awkward silence followed your comment.
“You’re not mad or something, are you?” Gojo finally asked.
“I’m not mad.”
“I haven’t done anything to deserve this attitude,” Gojo clearly wasn’t convinced, you could hear the theatrical dismay in his tone. “What’s got you so grumpy?”
“I’m not grumpy.”
“So why are you pouting then?”
Finally fed up with the badgering, you whirled around to face him, resolved to be upfront, to not give him a way to get out of the question. But then you looked him up and down and felt an odd jab of disgust and guilt twist in your stomach. It was so much easier to think the worst of somebody when they weren’t there to provide any sort of counternarrative. Seeing Gojo, it was hard to believe that he was the person you sometimes feared him to be. He was too attractive, powerful, and intelligent. It didn’t make sense that he would resort to underhanded means to manipulate you.
“Is there a reason I’m not allowed to leave?” you asked, staring at his covered eyes.
“What do you mean?” Gojo asked, the picture of innocent confusion. “Nobody’s stopping you.”
“Really? Because when you’re here, you stop me and, when you’re not, Oyama finds a reason that I can’t. It’s almost uncanny that so many jobs coincide with the days that I make plans.”
“Have you tried asking Oyama?” Gojo asked. “Maybe he has a crush on you.”
“He detests me,” you told him flatly. “I don’t blame him.”
“Oh? Do you want me to talk to him about that? I hate to think that my students aren’t getting along.”
“I want to know what’s going on,” you said, trying to keep calm.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Gojo said, his act of innocence perfectly maintained. Unless it wasn’t a mask. You couldn’t tell. “Are you feeling okay? Maybe you’ve been working too hard.” He frowned, thinking about it for a second. “I know! Let’s go out together. I’ve been dying to try this new sushi restaurant in town. I’ll invite Oyama and we can all get to the bottom of whatever it is you think you’re feeling.”
The moon hung high in the sky as you did training exercises in the field near your dorm, trying to shut your brain off. Nothing was solved over dinner. Of course not. Both men acted like there was nothing strange going on.
No, of course you were allowed to do whatever you wanted. Of course they weren’t stopping you. But if they were, they had good reason to. If they were, the problem was that you were just so weak. Sure you were making progress, but you weren’t even close to catching up with other sorcerers your age.
When you got back to your room, you broke down and called your mom, intending to tell her everything. The isolation, the suffocation, the worries you had about your teacher’s behavior. But all she could talk about was how well things were going with her new boyfriend. They were considering moving in together. And it was fine if she gave his daughter your old bedroom, wasn’t it? You didn’t need it anymore. You texted Haruka, but she didn’t reply, posting on her social media story to ensure you knew she was ignoring you on purpose.
So you decided you needed to hit something. It helped you calm down, at least. It was easier to believe the world had a semblance of peace in the dark of the night.
“Looking good!” a familiar voice called from behind you. You were trained enough to not be startled, taking a defensive stance as you considered how you were going to handle this. “I am curious as to why you’re out here though. I thought you were tired.”
That was the reason you gave after you got back to campus, the reason you immediately excused yourself from his company. Gojo knew it was a lie then, and said it like a joke now.
“I can’t sleep,” you said, shrugging as you turned around.
“I see. You’re not still angry with me, are you? Even though I didn’t do anything wrong?”
“No.”
“Then I can’t help but wonder what face you’re imagining on that training dummy.”
“Are you that hopeful that I’m thinking about you, sensei?”
He laughed. “If anything, I’m worried,” he said. “You know what they say about a woman scorned.”
“You told me I needed to train more,” you pointed out. “Do you have any tips? I prefer fighting with knives, but I can’t trust that I’ll always have weapons, and I still need to get in close if I’m going to use my Divination.”
“I’m not sure there’s much to read from your current opponent,” Gojo said.
“I’m being serious,” you said. “If you don’t want to help, that’s fine too.”
“No, I do. Okay, get into a defensive position,” he instructed, which you did.
Gojo walked around to stand close behind you, you could feel the warm thrum of his body, the energy coursing through it, the power.
“Your posture is fine, the problem is your mindset,” he said, his voice lower. He reached around to brush his fingers over your flushed neck and over, across your shoulder and down your arm. “You can’t think of it in terms of only using your cursed energy or only your body. Jujutsu sorcery is more than the sum of its parts. You fight with your whole self.” His hands settled on your hips, repositioning them slightly to the side. Then his palm laid flat over your pelvis, dragging up your stomach. Your skin crackled with little sparks of electricity, crawling and thrumming and alive and nervous.
“Sensei, I’m, uh…” Tongue-tied. A shiver snaked down your spine and you resisted the urge to move and put distance between you. You cleared your throat. “I understand that part, it’s just…”
“You don’t feel it yet. The harmony,” Gojo said. “Most people aren’t actively aware of their bodies, but a sorcerer has to be.”
“I am,” you said softly.
“Are you really?” Gojo asked, his lips brushing your temple. “Do you feel how your cursed energy flows through your body? It has its own circulatory system, you just have to find its pulse, synchronize it with your own.” He raised his hand up to press against your neck, lightly pressing against the place where your blood erratically thrummed beneath the skin.
“I get it,” you told him, you turned around, grabbing his hand from your neck, pressing your palms flat together.
Gojo looked taken aback, but didn’t withdraw. You saw nothing from within him. Felt no flicker of emotion.
“You know, I… I realized,” you said, looking up at his half-covered face, imagining a pair of sparkling blue eyes, knowing he was staring at you. “When we’re close like this, I can feel your… Infinity. The endless expanse that separates you and me.”
“Really?” he asked, sliding his hand to the side. It dwarfed your own. “I heard that you’re getting even better at reading people. It’s very impressive how fast you’re progressing, I’m so proud.”
“I thought that would help me figure you out, but it’s not your cursed energy keeping me out. It’s your infinity.” You looked at where your hands met. You felt his skin, his warmth, and yet you knew the connection wasn’t quite there. It was impossible to truly connect with him. “Trying to read you is like trying to find a flame in an endless abyss. Even the few times I thought I’ve seen something, I can’t be sure that it wasn’t just an illusion in the dark.”
Gojo’s head tilted curiously. “What was it that you thought you felt?”
“I’m getting stronger,” you told him rather than answer, pressing your hand ever more firmly against his. “If you give me a chance, I’ll show you. That’s why you’re keeping me from going out, right? Because you think I’m weak.”
“I’m not keeping you from doing anything,” Gojo told you. “I don’t know where you got this idea that I am.”
You dropped your hand, stepping away from him. The words were a knife twisted in your chest. He made you sound crazy. Made you feel crazy.
“Right. I’m going to bed,” you told him flatly. “Goodnight.”
“Hello?” Haruka answered, her voice groggy from just waking up. She probably wouldn’t have taken your call if she was fully awake.
“I’m too sick to train or study today,” you told her, holding up a potential outfit for the day. Gojo was gone, and you were done asking for permission to leave. “I’m going to be laid out in bed all day today and tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Do you think Ikki and Kaoru would be interested in hanging out? I could use a drink.” While you were still a little over a year out from buying liquor, both Ikki and Kaoru were of age and they didn’t mind hosting little parties at their shared apartment.
“It’s eight in the morning,” Haruka said.
“Not now, I mean later. I’m gonna catch the twelve-twenty train. Let’s get lunch, or go shopping. Honestly, I don’t care, I just need to get out of here.”
“Um. Yeah, I think we could do that.”
“Great. See you then.” You hung up before she could change her mind.
They waited until you were more than a little drunk to ask. You should have expected that, although you also didn’t expect to get so drunk. Ikki kept handing you drinks, urging you to relax and enjoy yourself. The world was warm and sweaty and spinning and comfortable and lovely and frightening.
“Okay,” Ikki said, catching your attention. A cigarette hung out of the corner of his mouth like he was some kind of cowboy. He only smoked when he got drunk, it was kind of cute, not that you would ever tell him that. He already knew it anyway. “What’s up with you lately?”
“What?” you asked, blinking fast.
“Kaoru thinks you got knocked up,” Fumiko said, speaking up from her position leaning against Kaoru’s chest.
Kaoru frowned down at her.
“What?” you asked, trying to force your drunk brain to think sober thoughts. “It’s not anything like that… It’s a… It’s nothing.”
“You’ve been blowing us off every time we asked you to come out without any explanation,” Haruka said. “It has to be a boy.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Come ooooooon,” Fumiko pushed. “It’s a guy. He’s keeping you all to yourself.”
“That’s not it,” you insisted.
“Is it something illegal?” Ikki asked with a puff of smoke.
“No, nothing like that,” you said. Then you broke out laughing, looking at your nearly empty beer. “It’s not like I have a boyfriend or anything. It-it, okay it is a guy. We’re not dating. It used to just be a weird vibe but now it’s like, weirder. He stops me from leaving and if he’s not there then he gets Oyama to keep me from going and there’s always a reason, but it’s still… That’s weird, right? I had to sneak out to come tonight, and even then that’s only because he’s out of the country.”
“There’s no way,” Haruka said, her voice flat with genuine disbelief. You could tell she was already prepared to call you a liar. “You’re saying you’re some kind of hostage?”
“Wait so, what, there’s somebody at your school who’s obsessed with you?” Kaoru asked. “What even is that place?”
“It’s that teacher, isn’t it,” Ikki said, pointing his half burned cigarette at you “The creepy guy with the glasses.”
“He’s not, like… creepy,” you said. “I don’t know, it’s just weird.”
Haruka scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Why would a guy that looks like Gojo go through all the trouble for you?”
“Tell him you’re dating me and I’ll beat him up if he keeps you all to himself,” Ikki said with a lopsided grin, butting his cigarette and throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“How would that help?” Haruka snapped, glaring at the two of you, her aura sparking with anger. That was very not good.
You shrugged off Ikki’s arm, scowling and trying to snap back to sobriety. “I knew you would do this if I told you,” you said. “That’s why I didn’t say anything before.”
“Why would I believe you? I know how you are. This is just like that one time in our second year with the tennis coach.”
You frowned. Of course she would bring that up. “That wasn’t-”
“You thought he was cute, but he didn’t reciprocate so you told everyone he was a perv.”
“Wasn’t that guy fired for trying to get with his students?” Kaoru asked.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t into her,” Haruka argued.
“It’s weird that you’re jealous about sexual harassment,” you told her bluntly.
“Okay! I think we should take a breather,” Ikki said, trying to smooth things over. “You girls might’ve overdone it a little.” You pushed him off, your own temper flaring to meet Haruka’s fiery aura.
“I bet Gojo turned you down and that’s why you’re making this up,” she said, her voice raising. “Or, no, you just want to outdo me. Brag about how you’re so much better just like always.”
“The only reason you’re saying this is because you’re mad he didn’t wanna sleep with you and you think it’s my fault,” you told her, working hard to keep the drunken slur out of your voice. “It’s not like I enjoy having somebody breathing down my neck all the time, although I’m sure you’d love the attention. You beg for it often enough.”
“You do too!” she said, getting shrill. “You just act like you don’t. Being a prude doesn’t make you superior.”
“That’s true, I don’t need self-respect to be better than you,” you snapped. In the ensuing silence, everybody in the room was just staring at you. Like you were the one out of line. Like they hadn’t ganged up on you to force you to tell them what was going on.
Angry at them and angry at yourself for losing it so spectacularly, you stumbled drunkenly to your feet. Ikki got up too, although you pushed off his help as you went to the bathroom. Haruka shouted insults after you, which you ignored.
Instead you went into their bathroom, marveled at the disgusting state of a place shared by two guys, and threw up.
The knocking woke you up. It took a minute of looking at the sunshine peering in through the blinds to realize you were on Ikki’s and Kaoru’s couch, your back cramping from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. A glass of water and two painkillers sat ready for you on the messy coffee table alongside empty beer bottles and snack wrappers. You groaned, sitting up and taking the medication with a wince.
Whoever was at the door continued to knock. You grunted, standing up. Bad idea. You nearly fell right back down, but you managed to stay on your feet. You were about to answer the door before you realized that could be a bad idea, turning around to find Ikki.
The door to Kaoru’s room was closed, but the other door yawned open. You peeked in. Haruka was passed out on the bed. You could hear the shower running from the bathroom.
“Ikki?” you called through the door. “Someone’s knocking.”
“What?”
“Someone’s at the door,” you said. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No,” he said. “Will you get it? I’ll be out in a second.”
Perhaps hearing voices inside, the person at the door only got louder. You sighed, annoyed by their insistence.
You returned to the living room to open the door, squinting at how bright the morning was in comparison to the dark apartment.
“Good morning!” Gojo enthused.
You blinked hard three or four times, willing reality to bend to make what you were seeing stop being true.
“Woah, you look like shit. Did you have a fun night?”
“What?” you asked, baffled beyond comprehension.
“Who is it?” Ikki asked, coming out of the bathroom with billows of steam and only a towel around his waist, drying his hair absently.
“I’ve come to retrieve my wayward student,” Gojo said.
You stared at him, hungover and confused and wanting nothing more than to lay back down on that horribly uncomfortable couch and never get up.
“Are you ready to go?” Gojo asked you when he got no answer.
You let out an unsteady breath, closing your eyes for a second to try and gain some clarity or zen. Nope. That was a lost cause.
“Give me a second, I have to use the bathroom,” you said, turning away from him towards the bedroom to get your bag.
Haruka was still passed out, a fact you were very grateful for. You weren’t completely clear on the details of last night, but the broad strokes were all there. You slung your bag over your shoulder and went into the steamy bathroom. Clearing the mirror in squeaky finger-streaks proved Gojo right. You looked like shit.
After dry heaving a little as you brushed your teeth, you put on clean clothes and sorted out the mess that was your hair. It wasn’t perfect, but you didn’t look as awful as you felt. When you returned to the main room, Ikki was dressed. The room was heavy with awkward tension, although Gojo didn’t look at all uncomfortable. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what words were exchanged.
“Ready to go?” Gojo asked. You sighed, throwing your bag over your shoulder.
“I’ll talk to you later,” you told Ikki, smiling apologetically.
And Ikki, in his endless wisdom, did the last thing you expected and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you in for a kiss. He stared at Gojo the whole time, aggression swirling around him thicker than any desire or affection. Using you to prove a point. That was unlike him. Gojo might’ve just had a way of pulling out the worst in people.
“Call me later,” he said when he released you, winking.
“Bye,” you said, forcing a smile.
“It was nice to see you again,” Gojo said, smiling and waving in a too-cheerful way. You walked out into the sunlight, wincing at how bright it was, going for the stairs without waiting for him to follow.
“Did you have fun last night?” Gojo asked as you took the stairs down to ground level.
“Yeah,” you said, too tired and irritable to play along.
“You know, as your teacher, it’s my responsibility to look after your wellbeing,” Gojo said, hopping the last few steps to stay next to you. “Underage drinking can have very dire consequences. Especially when you’re spending the night at a man’s home. I would hate to think that you’d be taken advantage of.”
“Why are you here?” you asked, turning to face him. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I got back last night. I was worried when you weren’t on campus,” you could feel his gaze as he looked you up and down. “I’m glad to see you’re just fine.”
“Right,” you said. That didn’t answer your question, but you doubted you would get anything better. “Can we stop to get breakfast?”
“Can you wait until we get to the station? We have to hurry to catch the train.”
“Hurry for what?”
“Didn’t you read my messages? You have a job,” he told you.
“You’re kidding.”
“You begged me for a chance to prove yourself, well here it is. If you do well on this mission, I’ll consider you for a promotion of sorts. Isn’t that exciting?”
Through a series of increasingly unfortunate circumstances, the thread you were following led to a realization that the curse was based on the time of day. That is, exactly before sunrise. By the time you figured that out, you had about nine hours to kill.
Gojo said he’d rent a room for you to rest, but it had to be close enough that you could be at the lot exactly on time. On short notice and in such a small area to select from, the choices of accommodations were slim.
One room, one bed. If the embarrassment didn’t kill you, the cliche would.
Gojo showering gave you some time alone to prepare yourself, at least. It wasn’t like you were afraid he would do anything, but you couldn’t say you were exactly comfortable with the arrangement. The whole day, you had been standoffish, but now you were just tired and nervous. Of course you wanted to prove yourself to him, but you also got angry every time you thought about him springing this on you when he knew you weren’t operating at your best. It felt calculated, but you knew that he would easily deny that if you accused him of anything.
The worst of everything was how meticulously he avoided any conversation about your behavior, or Ikki, or his own motivations for doing this. The more stormy your mood got, the bigger he smiled, and the more he acted the role of the caring teacher.
Just like always, you felt like you were a little crazy. Drowning in delusions of self importance.
You sat crossed legged on the foot of the bed and put on a ghost hunting show. If only being a sorcerer was like on TV. Dramatics, theatrics, silly devices, and easy answers. That had been your original hope when you started playing with Divination. You wanted something exciting, the cheap thrills weren't doing it anymore.
Well, you got what you wanted. You certainly weren't bored.
“What are we watching?” Gojo asked as he came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam, drying his wet hair. You cleared your throat and averted your eyes from his partial nudity.
“Ghost Adventures,” you said, staring straight ahead at the screen.
“What’s that?” he asked as he got onto the bed, laying on top of the comforter. The robe mostly covered his bare torso.
“A ghost hunting show,” you answered. “It’s American.”
“Is it any good?”
You snorted out a short laugh. “No. We don’t have to keep it on.”
“I don’t mind.”
You stared at the TV for a minute before checking your phone again. Haruka hadn’t texted you all day. At first, you were resolute that you would only accept an apology, but the longer you thought about it, the more you reasoned yourself to accept anything.
“Isn’t it uncomfortable to sit like that?” Gojo asked, startling you. You turned off your phone screen, setting it on the bedside table.
“I’m fine.”
“I heard that if you sit with your back hunched like that you’ll get stuck that way.”
You rolled your eyes, although you did swing your legs around to lay against the headboard. As much as you wanted to pretend it wasn’t true, you were still tired from the previous night. Since he made no move to do it, you got under the stiff sheets, trying to fluff the lumpy pillow into comfortable submission.
“Are you dissatisfied?” Gojo asked suddenly.
“What?”
“Are you dissatisfied with your life as a sorcerer? When you first started at Jujutsu Tech I thought you were over your rebellious delinquent phase, but now you’re falling back into the same habits. I can only assume it’s because you’re dissatisfied.”
“It was one night,” you argued. Chewing on the words and your lip for a second, you cast a sideways glare towards him. “If there weren’t such strict restrictions about when and how I can leave campus, I wouldn't have had to lie.”
“You’re still technically a student, of course there are restrictions. Do you think that’s unfair?”
“Oyama doesn’t have the same restrictions.”
“Oyama is nearly a Grade Two sorcerer, and he’s never had any behavioral issues.”
“Right,” you said, your voice flat. At least that was a different answer than you had gotten previously, some acknowledgement that you were getting unfair treatment.
“If you’re this unhappy, why haven’t you said anything?” Gojo asked.
You wondered how much he already knew or assumed. He wasn’t stupid, he was painfully perceptive. Unless it was all in your head, and he truly did not understand why you were reacting like this because he had no reason to think you would second guess his behavior and motivations.
“You already have a lot to worry about,” you told him.
“I always have time for my cute little student. It’s my responsibility to see that you’re satisfied. I have noticed that you seem a little more tense. Is the stress starting to get to you? It’s important to talk about these things, you know. Otherwise they can spiral into a much larger problem. We have to rely on each other as sorcerers.”
“I’m fine.”
Gojo hummed. You pretended to be very interested in a case about some old haunted asylum where they tortured patients or whatever.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Gojo said when the show cut to commercial. “Your abilities can be considered dangerous to yourself and those around you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sorcerers and curse users go to great lengths to keep their techniques secret. The mere idea of your Divination puts them at risk. While it’s not fully refined yet, there is a non-zero chance that you will be able to read techniques in their entirety. I’m sure there are already conversations being had about taking you out. Nobody’s stupid enough to try anything when you’re under my protection, but if they saw a chance, they would jump at it.”
“So I can’t leave,” you said, staring hard at the TV as a commercial for foot cream played out.
“You can!” Gojo said quickly, his voice energetically trying to placate you. “Neither myself or any other sorcerer will hold you against your will. You’re an adult, you can do what you please. I’m only telling you of the risks you face now.”
“How would they know about my technique?” you asked.
Gojo shrugged glibly, his expression just as unreadable without sunglasses or that bandage. “These things have a way of getting around.”
In the very deepest part of your brain, you wondered if he didn’t have a hand in that. If he wouldn’t be willing to put you at risk if it meant you needed his protection. That was ridiculous. Truly. No matter what else Gojo had done, he hadn’t done anything you could call evil. The jujutsu world was just dangerous, and you already knew that.
“I understand,” you said, trying to sound unaffected.
Neither of you spoke for a while, although you didn’t think he was watching the TV any more than you were. It was a ridiculous story and they were so deadly serious about their silly spirit boxes.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Gojo asked. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”
“Yeah,” you said. “I should. Do you want to turn it off?”
“I don’t mind. You usually sleep with the TV or something on anyway, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but…” You frowned, your assurance trailing off. How did he know that?
“I’ve always wondered why,” Gojo said. “Are you afraid of the dark? That seems inconvenient for a sorcerer.”
“I have bad dreams,” you said.
“Will I have to worry about you waking up kicking and screaming?”
“Bad, not scary,” you corrected him, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible. “Isn’t it wonderful that no matter how hard you repress things when you’re awake, your brain can just shove it in your face when you’re defenseless?”
“I understand that,” he told you with a wry smile.
“So even the strongest has to deal with that?” you asked, stifling a yawn into your palm. “I guess there really is no hope for the rest of us.”
“I’ve read that nightmares offer insights into our psyches,” Gojo said as you stared at the ceiling. “Things that we fear the most… and things we want the most.”
“I dream about my dad coming back,” you said softly, without thinking. You scrubbed your palms into your eyes, laughing humorlessly. “It’s pathetic. Sometimes I wish I’d dream about curses or whatever. The happy dreams are so much worse.”
“I truly believe that love is the worst curse of them all,” Gojo said softly.
“You’re probably right.” After a moment, you added, ”I’m sorry. For whoever you dream about, I’m sorry.”
“Who said I dream of anything?’
You huffed. “Fine. I take back my sorry.”
“You can’t, I’ve already accepted it. It warms my heart to think of my cute little student worrying about her sensei. What would you do to help me, I wonder?”
Your face scrunched up in disgust. “Nothing. Forget it.”
“I’d be more than happy to return the favor, you know. If you’re lonely,” Gojo said, turning onto his side with his head propped up on his arm, “I can help you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar,” Gojo said. “I’ve noticed how sad you are, how you refuse to reach out to anybody for support. I know what that's like."
“I don’t need anyone's support,” you said, avoiding his eyes. “I can either get over this, or I can’t. That’s on me.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Gojo said, even softer. “Even the strongest need help sometimes, and you’re hardly the strongest. I’m worried about you.”
You sighed, even more annoyed. “Don’t be.”
Gojo groaned dramatically. “You make it so difficult to be a good teacher and mentor. I want to help you, but then you act like this. It’s like you’re trying to rile me up.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, a cold flush running through your stomach.
“I’m telling you that you should be more careful,” Gojo said. “I’m not entirely sure you realize that you could very well face consequences for your behavior.”
“Is that a threat or something?” you asked.
“No, of course not,” he told you with a smile. “Now go to sleep, you’ll need it if you’re going to perform well tomorrow. Remember what’s at stake.”
The next afternoon, after getting your wounds treated and taking a long nap to make up for two nights of barely any sleep, you stood in the classroom facing Gojo. You had been expecting bad news, but not quite to the gleefully dismissive extent that he saw fit to deliver it.
“Suffice it to say, you did not meet my expectations. I guess you’re stuck with me for a while yet,” Gojo said, smiling like it was great news despite the attempted apologetic tone.
You grit your teeth. “Is this what you meant about consequences for my misbehavior?”
“What do you mean?” Gojo asked, tilting his head curiously.
“I don’t know what you want, if you expect something from me or if you’re mad I’m dating or whatever, but I did a good job,” you said. “You know I did, so-”
“You didn’t,” Gojo said, cutting you off. “I carefully evaluated every part of your performance, and I don’t think you’re ready to take on more complicated jobs. This isn’t a game. There are lives at stake. Your life, the lives of your fellow sorcerers, and the lives of the civilians we’re trying to protect. If you want to accuse me of trading favors or having an unfavorable bias, you’re more than welcome to take your case to the higher ups. I’m sure they would be delighted to hear of any perceived misconduct. Otherwise, I recommend you focus on your training.”
You nodded stiffly, biting your tongue. “Yes, sir.”
“I know you’re upset, but it’s important that you don’t rush something you’re not ready for. You could get hurt.”
“I understand. If you’ll excuse me then.” You turned to leave his office, your shoulders high and tense.
“Oh, right! I was told this morning that you asked for a transfer,” Gojo said, snapping loud enough to make you wince. “It was denied.”
You looked over your shoulder, a cold bit of dread sinking into your gut.
“Kyoto doesn’t need any more sorcerers at the moment, especially when you're still such a low level sorcerer,” he told you, returning to that innocent tone. “Why was it that you wanted to transfer anyway?”
“No reason,” you said, hiding your expression and leaving quickly.
The disappointment was bad, but what you hated more than anything with the humiliation. If Gojo were honest, then you could understand your failure, but not in the way he presented it to you. He was going out of his way to embarrass you. Hot bouts of sticky red fury filled your stomach and your head whenever you thought about it, a feeling so mean and aggressive that it hurt.
You couldn’t call your mom, you wouldn’t know what to tell her. Haruka still hadn’t texted you. Ikki had asked if you were alright, but there wasn’t anything you could think of to say to him. You knew what he wanted, what he expected from you by offering what he saw as help, but you couldn’t do that. Even if it pissed Gojo off, it wasn’t satisfying. He would view that sort of behavior as petty. It was petty.
If you were going to do something, it had to be big. Something that you weren’t supposed to do, something that would make a point, something that would soothe your embarrassment. When you felt yourself drawn to the map on your wall, pencil in hand, it was like a golden opportunity had fallen into your lap, gifted directly to you by fate.
“Oyama! We have a job,” you told him, acting like you were unhappy with the arrangement.
“What are you talking about?” Oyama asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
“It’s a spot on my map.” You could see his hesitation so you feigned annoyance. “If you want to go alone, that’s fine, but Gojo told me I had to as a part of my evaluation.”
He believed it, not even checking to make sure you were telling the truth.
As soon as you were conscious, a ragged gasp ripped up the inside of your dry throat, panic shooting through your veins like ice water. You groped your chest and stomach, searching for wounds that weren’t there. A little yelp of fear left your mouth and you wrenched your body upright. The sheet fell from your chest, making you realize that you were not dressed, and you were not alone.
Ieiri shot you a concerned look, blowing a final puff of smoke out of the window into the dark night before butting the cigarette. “Careful,” she warned, “your wounds are healed, but you’re going to be weak.”
Tugging the sheet up to cover your chest, you realized you were in the clinic, and then your memories crashed through the gauze of groggy ignorance. The curse, the fight, the terror, and then the stupidest plan you had ever concocted. Although you weren’t wounded anymore, you coughed weakly, your body reacting to the mere memory of suffocating on your own blood.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
You groaned, falling flat onto your back. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“How much do you remember?” Ieriri asked, closing the window.
“Everything.” Unfortunately. Your face scrunched up as you tried to put the horrific memories of your mutilated body out of your mind. “Is Oyama okay?”
“He has a few bruises, nothing major.”
You nodded, relieved for that. If he got hurt after you forced him to take you along, you’d never live it down. After a second, you threw an arm over your face, something like a raspy laugh crackling its way out of your sore chest. “I think I did something extraordinarily stupid.”
“Like using yourself as bait so your fellow sorcerer could exorcize a curse?” Ieiri asked dryly.
You opened one eye to look at her. “Did it work?”
“It did, although you very nearly died for it. The broken ribs were the worst. You’re lucky they didn’t puncture anything vital.”
Hiking up the sheet over your healed chest, you sat up again. Your head spun, but the only pain you felt was phantom, like your brain was unable to reconcile the severe physical trauma with your perfectly healed body.
“It was the strangest thing,” you said. “The curse was smart enough to know to attack the stronger sorcerer, but I… I forced it to focus on me.” You winced, a shiver of soul-deep revulsion slithering down your throat all the way to the pit of your stomach as you remembered what happened after that. Remembering pain after the fact was difficult enough, let alone thinking of the right words to describe the experience.
“You need water,” Ieiri said, pressing a bottle of water into your hand. You eagerly accepted it, uncapping the bottle and chugging the whole thing. She was calm as ever, if tired.
Capping the bottle, you cleared your throat again. “I don’t suppose I can borrow some clothes?”
She patted a pile of folded clothes on the bedside table with a tired smile. “They won’t fit, but it’s better than streaking across campus.”
“Thank you,” you said, wrapping yourself in the sheet to fully sit up.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Ieiri said, turning to leave the room. She paused in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at you. “Oh, before I forget, Satoru wants to see you as soon as possible. I doubt he expected you to wake up so quickly, I’m sure it can wait until morning.”
You frowned, your stomach twisting up at the thought. “Where do you think he’ll be?”
“He’s probably in his apartment. I doubt he’s asleep, if you wanted to talk to him now.” She snorted, shaking her head. “That man sleeps less than I do.”
“Got it,” you said. “Thanks.”
She hesitated in the doorway, thinking about what she was going to say. “Satoru was very upset when he heard what happened. I know he worries about his students, but this is different.”
“How so?” you asked, tensing up at the faint insinuation.
Ieiri sighed. “I’m not trying to involve myself, you’re free to do what you want. But, speaking as someone who has known Satoru for a while, be careful. I care for him, but his nature doesn’t always lend itself to respectable behavior.”
“Okay,” you said flatly, narrowing your eyes at her. You didn’t get the sense of any malice or disgust, but the words were obviously pointed.
“That’s all,” Ieiri said with a light shrug, leaving the room and closing the door. You squeezed your eyes shut, wondering what to think about that. You didn’t know if you wanted to believe her or not. It was the first time anybody confirmed some of the strange things you felt about the man, but you didn’t know if that made it any better.
Besides, you hadn’t so purposefully baited a reaction just to shy away now.
At twelve-twenty-five, you left the clinic. Considering you almost died earlier that day, you didn't feel too terrible. Every muscle in your body was sore and shaky, like you had been training too hard, but you had just slept for nine hours. Even if you laid down, you wouldn’t sleep. If Gojo wanted to talk, you would talk. The reasoning behind it was, on the surface, because you wanted to get it over with.
There might have been more to your compulsion, but you were too irritable to interrogate your motivation.
Before going over, you stopped by your room to exchange Ieiri’s borrowed clothes for a clean shirt, oversized hoodie, fresh panties, and a pair of shorts. While you were there, you took the time to wipe the mascara rings out from under your eyes, swipe on some lip balm, and pull your hair back to mitigate the mess. What you really needed was a full coat of foundation and some dry shampoo, but the idea that you were so desperate to impress him pissed you off even more.
On your way to the faculty apartments on the edge of campus, you thought about the best way to handle this. Gojo would know why you lied and disobeyed him, he wasn’t stupid. There wasn’t any way you could think of to reframe the narrative either. You did it because you wanted to, and because you were angry about his ruling, and because you thought you could get away with it, and because you felt the need to act out against his authority.
You still weren’t sure what you were going to say when you stopped in front of his door, knocking before you lost your nerve. Footsteps sounded almost immediately from the other side, and then the door slid open. Gojo stood on the other side. He was dressed down for the night, wearing a casual t-shirt and sweatpants. His hair was messy and eyes uncovered, sparkling in the faint light from the lamps along the path.
“Oh, you’re awake!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow.”
“Yep, I’m all fixed up,” you said, throwing your arms out as if to present yourself. “Ieiri said you wanted to see me.”
“I can wait until you’re better rested,” Gojo said, putting on a dramatic frown.
You sighed, feeling awkward of all things. The whole time, you had been geared up for some sort of confrontation, but he was so calm, behaving just like he always did. Maybe Ieiri had misunderstood his mood.
“I don’t think I could sleep with this hanging over my head,” you told him. “Unless this is a bad time.”
“No, it’s fine. Come in,” Gojo said, opening the door wider to usher you through.
Despite the traditional exterior, his apartment was decorated in a plain yet clearly expensive style, a marble coffee table and velvet upholstery and understated lighting. What struck you the most was how good it smelled inside. The TV was on, but muted, splashing color and light into the dim room.
“Do you want tea?” Gojo offered, shutting the door. “Water? Strawberry milk?”
“I’m okay, thanks,” you said. “I’d rather get this over with.”
“Get what over with?” Gojo asked as he walked around you. He wasn’t wearing shoes, so you toed yours off, setting them next to his.
“You’re going to yell at me, aren’t you?” you said, maintaining a casual demeanor despite your anxiety.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” he said, dropping onto the couch. Those were unmistakably Fendi Pequin stripes on the armrests, the thing must have cost a small fortune and yet he was lounging on it. “Do you want me to?”
“Not especially.”
“How about you sit down,” Gojo offered, patting the spot on the couch beside him. You shuffled from foot to foot, rethinking your decision to come to his place so late at night. It was so far down from all of the other buildings. Even if you screamed, nobody would hear you. But that was stupid. He could have done anything he wanted to do to you in the hotel, and he didn’t. You were making things up to justify your discomfort.
You sat down stiffly, more than aware that you were sitting on a piece of furniture that cost as much as your mom’s car.
Gojo shut off the TV, leaving the two of you in the intimate near dark. It had been muted, but somehow the room felt even more quiet. His attitude was horribly off-putting. Ieiri said he seemed upset, but you weren’t getting that at all. If anything, he seemed more relaxed than the last time you saw him.
The silence dragged on and on, you had no idea what to do or say. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, not when they were uncovered and you were alone.
Finally, he sighed theatrically. “This is my own fault,” Gojo said. “I’ve always known you had behavioral problems. I thought—I hoped that it wouldn’t come to this. You could have died.”
“But I didn’t,” you pointed out, keeping your voice steady. “Nobody died, the curse got exorcized, and everything’s fine.”
“Is that your defense for disregarding my authority, lying, and putting yourself and Oyama at risk?”
“It’s not a defense,” you said. “It’s a statement of fact.”
Gojo laughed, a sound that made you flinch away. It wasn’t forced, he sounded genuinely amused. “You are such a pain in the ass,” he said, smiling as if he was endeared by it. “I can’t tell if you’re unafraid of the consequences or if you really don’t believe you’ll face any.”
“I did face consequences,” you argued. “Didn’t Ieiri tell you how badly I was injured?”
“That’s not enough, is it? If you have the chance, you'll definitely do something like this again. The danger is a part of the thrill for a girl like you.” He hummed thoughtfully. “No, I need to take care of the underlying issue.”
“The underlying issue?” you repeated.
“You have no respect for authority—mine or otherwise.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sensei. I have the deepest respect for you,” you said, looking up at him with innocently wide eyes. It didn’t get the rise you wanted, his expression didn’t change. The unrelenting calm and friendly demeanor he maintained was beginning to creep you out.
“Normally, I don’t mind. I understand; I can’t stand people ordering me around. With you, though, it really irritates me. Maybe I should try a little more discipline.”
“What are you going to do, spank me?” you asked, raising a brow. You could hear how desperate your sarcasm sounded, an attempt to regain control over the situation.
Gojo’s head titled as he considered your taunt. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”
You rolled your eyes, your hands curling into fists to hide your increasing anxiety. If you could read his feelings, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, but you couldn’t tell how serious he was. “You’re funny.”
“Oh? But that wasn’t a joke. I think that might help fix your attitude.”
“So breaking my ribs wasn’t good enough, but that is?” you asked, disguising your fear and dread with more desperate scorn. “Come on, don’t be gross.”
“It was your suggestion.”
“I was joking! I didn’t actually… I mean, you can’t just…” You shook your head rather than try to finish that statement, kicking yourself for getting so flustered.
“You were never punished as a child,” Gojo said. “You said your dad left? I bet that, after that, your mom grew distant. She yelled at you, but you never faced any serious consequences for your misbehavior. You only got better at hiding your indiscretions. Is that it?”
“That’s not your business,” you said, every muscle in your body drawing up tight in response to that accusation.
“Children who aren’t taught boundaries and respect grow up to be rotten adults,” Gojo said. “Spoiled, rude, self-important adults.” With every word he moved closer.
“You would know, right?” you said, clinging onto the strength of attempted wit.
Gojo smiled. “Oh yes, I know very well. I’m rotten too. Shoko told you, didn’t she? That’s why you look so scared right now.”
“I’m not scared,” you said, clenching your jaw.
“There's been something I've been meaning to tell you for a while,” Gojo said. He put a finger beneath your chin to lift it, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re not as complicated of a woman as you think you are. I know you think you’re better, but in reality you’re playing the same games, just with different rules. All of the posturing to get my attention, the misbehaving, the petty tricks to make me jealous–you're so obvious.” He let out a relieved breath, smiling. “Whew, I’m glad I finally got that out.”
“What are you even saying?” You asked, pulling away from him, shaking your head fast. “This is a joke, right?”
“I almost pity you. It isn’t entirely your fault. You’re young, ignorant, and weak, you couldn’t possibly have known where this would go. It’s not in your nature to leave well enough alone.”
“Stop it,” you said, your voice harsh.
“I’m the same,” Gojo continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “It’s not in my nature to spare the weak or ignorant just because I feel bad for them. I’m not nearly that nice.”
“I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” he asked. “You showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night begging me to punish you. I am a man. Even I have my limits. You've been testing them from the beginning.”
“You have to stop,” you said, your demand taking on the edge of a whine. “This is insane.”
“I’ll give you one last chance, okay? Prove me wrong. Leave,” Gojo said, backing off and gesturing to the door. “This is it, this is the last time you’ll get away without facing any consequences.”
“Gojo, why are you-”
“Three.”
“Nnn-no, wait, I-”
“Two.”
You stood up, swaying on your feet, but you didn’t run. You took one step back from him, afraid, but you didn’t run.
“One,” Gojo said, grunting the word as he got to his feet and picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder.
“No!” you shouted, struggling to escape his grasp as he carried you further into the apartment. “Stop it, put me-put me down! Stop, I want to go! I’ll leave! Put me down!”
“I warned you what would happen, it’s not my fault you never listen,” Gojo said, dumping you onto his bed. You bounced once, scrambling to get up and away. “No, don’t move,” he ordered, his voice low and authoritative, freezing you in place. His eyes sparkled inhumanly in the dim light.
“I want to go,” you said, softly, your heart racing, pounding harder because you couldn’t move. “I’m leaving, I’m going and-”
“No, you’re not,” he said, rolling his eyes as he opened a drawer on the nightstand, looking inside with a thoughtful expression. “By all means, keep up the act. The whole brat thing is pretty hot. There’s no point in punishing a girl who’s well-behaved.”
“What are you going to do?” you asked.
“I’m going to spank you for being such a naughty student,” Gojo said. “I don’t want to be too cruel, I know you’re sensitive. That’s fine. I can be nice too.” He looked up at you. “Do you think you can stay still on your own, or…?” He smirked. “Of course you can't.”
“You’re scaring me,” you said, hoping the words would break his act.
“Don’t be afraid,” Gojo told you, rolling his eyes like you were being unreasonable. “I won’t hurt you that much.”
You were going to be sick. “You can’t-”
“Of course I can,” Gojo said, pulling what you recognized as a vibrating wand and a pair of handcuffs from the drawer. “What you mean to say is that I shouldn't. You’re right about that. I'm well aware that this is a bad idea, and I might regret it, but it's too late to let that stop me. You know the feeling, don't you?”
“No, no. You,” you shook your head, unable to form the words in your shock and disbelief at this situation, “you can’t.”
“You already said that,” Gojo said, putting the toys on the bed to kneel on the very edge. You flinched away, but you didn’t dare run. He would definitely catch you, you could feel the thrill in his cursed energy. It was all a game.
“I know,” you said, trying to think of the words to reason with him and coming up short, “but… You can’t.”
“The way you’re looking at me is too good,” he said with a boyish grin. “You genuinely can’t believe that somebody finally called your bluff.”
You shook your head.
“I think this will be good for you,” he said. “You need to learn this lesson. It’s better to learn it here, in a controlled environment.”
Gojo grabbed your legs before you could scramble away. You yelped, slapping his hands when he grabbed your hips. That did nothing to deter him from flipping you onto your belly and wrestling your hoodie and shirt off before collecting your arms and pulling them behind your back. Even though you were fighting him so hard that it hurt, he was barely trying, as if the process of overpowering you was as inconsequential as putting the leash on a small dog. You cried out as he secured your wrists in the handcuffs, giving them a solid tug to test their hold. They were lined with soft material, but they obviously weren’t the fuzzy bachelorette party kind that could be easily escaped. There was no way you could get out of them on your own. You tried to use your cursed energy to break free, but it did nothing. Had he reinforced them somehow? Was that possible?
“Gojo, stop,” you demanded. “You can’t do this, you can’t!”
“It’s humiliating, isn’t it?” he asked, pulling your panties and shorts off in one go, getting them over your legs no matter how hard you tried to kick him off. “Being at the mercy of another person. Next time you think about misbehaving, think about this feeling.”
“Stop it!” you yelled, truly thrashing now. He grunted, sitting with his legs aside your torso, threatening to crush you. “Stop, get off. You’re hurting me!”
“It’s okay if you fight,” Gojo said. “But you know it doesn’t matter, don’t you? You’re so weak.”
“Stop it! Just—ngh-” He shoved your panties into your mouth before you could finish that thought, muffling the words. You just yelled in disgust, in despair, in anger. And it didn’t matter.
Gojo leaned over you, brushing your hair away from your ear to speak directly into it.
“I’m sure you’re having a difficult time thinking clearly, but it’s important you remember what I’m about to tell you,” he said. “The next time I allow you to speak, I expect you to address me properly. I really don’t think that’s too unfair. I am your teacher, I deserve some respect, don't you agree?”
You shouted through the gag, shaking your head back and forth.
Gojo hummed, dropping his shirt on the bed next to you. He lifted his weight from your back and turned around to sit on the edge of the bed. You used the opportunity to roll onto your side, trying to get away from him, but Gojo had no problem collecting you, letting you flop on the bed across his lap while you writhed helplessly. The first touch of his hand against the back of your bare thighs made you jump, tears of humiliation already pressing against the corners of your eyes.
“How many, do you think?” he asked.
No.
There was no way. You shouted in panic, kicking your legs. There was still a part of you that simply rejected this all, that couldn’t believe this would happen. Things like this didn’t happen to you. Not you.
Gojo’s palm landed loudly against your ass, the smack striking your skin with a burst of stinging pain and the sickening flush of humiliation.
“I knew you were going to be a problem from the first time we met,” he told you, rubbing his palm over the sore spot. “You think you’re better than everyone else. I can’t stand undeserved self-importance.”
He spanked you five times in quick succession, spreading them out across your ass and upper thighs. You struggled and yelled and kicked, but his other hand easily kept you in place.
“You’re not fighting very hard. I really thought it would be harder. Are you sure you weren’t secretly hoping I’d do this? You can admit it, I won’t tell anyone.”
You shouted, pooling up all over your cursed energy to fight him off. Gojo rewarded you by spanking you more, focusing on your upper thighs, slapping the same spots over and over until your shouting became sobbing and the skin buzzed, burning red hot.
“I know, that wasn’t very nice,” he said, rubbing the sore flesh, coaxing it out of becoming too numb to his touch. “You’re not very nice either, are you? Wearing all those cute little outfits to tempt me, flaunting that guy to make me jealous.” You yelled in fear when he raised his hand, but he only playfully tapped your ass, digging his long fingers in to knead it, just playing with you. “And then using your friend to taunt me… I think you deserve to be punished for that, don’t you?”
You shook your head frantically, squirming and writhing and kicking to escape. But he spanked you again, and again, and all you could do was endure the pain. Gojo mixed in the playful swats with genuine strikes, keeping you crying, always on the edge, unsure if he was going to hurt you or not, not when he was going to stop or where this would go.
You weren’t counting, and you weren’t sure if he was either, but eventually he let up.
“Mmm, that looks like it hurts,” he said, tracing the tender flesh with his fingertips. You cried, glad he couldn’t see your face. “Poor little thing. Okay, let’s-” Gojo flipped you around, pulling you up onto his lap.
Putting any amount of pressure on your stinging ass made you yelp, your back arching. He didn’t care. He grabbed the vibrator and flicked it on, pushing the head past your pussy’s outer lips to buzz against your entrance before dragging up, drawing slick circles around your clit. You thrashed against him, but your kicking legs couldn’t do anything and there was nowhere to go. Gojo moved with your struggling in an indulgent way, like he was wrangling a disobedient animal, letting you tire yourself out as he tilted the wand this way and that to really grind it against your clit.
“It’s a little intense, I know,” he said. “If you just relax and let yourself enjoy it, you’ll feel so much better.”
You pressed your face against his shoulder, telling him to stop. The words were all mush, muffled by your own panties. Every part of your body was alive and awake and agonizingly sensitive, covered in a thin film of sweat and goose-flesh and anticipation. When he casually toyed with one of your nipples, you felt it like a jolt of electric heat straight down between your legs. The vibrator’s steady hum bypassed any reasonable objection your body would have to pleasure, a reaction as invasive and involuntary as pain.
When you realized you were going to come—going to come like this—you shouted, straining your shoulders in an attempt to escape the cuffs. Gojo laughed, holding you tight as you spasmed and jerked around in his lap. Your hips bucked and the vibrator pressed against your clit just right and you almost blacked out.
“Aha, that’s it, isn’t it?” Gojo asked happily, grinding the vibrator there.
Toomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoomuch—it hurt. You tried to tell him that, you tried to fight your way out of his grasp, you tried to do anything you could to escape but it didn’t matter as your body shuddered with the orgasmic flash of pleasure, a feeling so intense it felt like nausea.
You came with a helpless cry, hiding your face against his shoulder as you jerked with each wave of stifling, intoxicating, sickening heat.
Gojo didn’t stop. You reared back to meet his eye and he just grinned, looking down between your legs to make sure he was keeping the vibrator in exactly the right place to make you spasm and kick and choke, panicked and overwhelmed.
You didn’t know if you were coming again or if it was just one long string of overstimulation tricking your mind into pleasure, but you felt it draw out like soda fizz all the way to your fingertips and toes.
“Okay, what have you learned so far?” Gojo asked, shutting the vibrator off and setting it aside. You mumbled something into the gag, tossing your head back and forth. “Oh, right.” He laughed, pulling your panties out of your mouth. “What have you learned?”
“Stop!” you told him in a wrecked voice, glaring at him with watery eyes. “It doesn’t matter how many times you spank me, or-or… I’m not playing along with your-your sick games, I’m not…” You closed your eyes, struggling to get out of his lap, sobbing and panting and angry and humiliated and-
“Wrong.” Gojo shoved your panties back into your mouth. “You know what? I’m glad you’re a difficult student. Really,” he said. “It’ll be so much more rewarding when you finally learn your lesson.”
You ignored him, squeezing your eyes shut and turning your face away.
“It doesn’t matter what I do to you,” he mused. “That’s what you said, right?”
Without warning, Gojo’s hand landed directly between your legs with a sharp smack. You screamed, really screamed, squeezing your thighs together until the muscles trembled.
“Oi, open your legs,” Gojo told you, his voice low and serious, more than you had ever heard.
You kept your eyes shut, shaking your head fast.
“You’re saying you won’t?” he asked, his fingers tracing along the seam between your legs.
You shook your head again, trying to squirm out of his lap.
“Oh my, what a brave girl,” Gojo cooed mockingly, grabbing one of your legs to pry them apart, catching it with his own leg and pinning it against the bed. He spanked your pussy two, three, four more times, each one making your body jolt violently, another cry gurgling out of your throat.
When his hand landed with a sickening smack for the fifth time, it stayed there, his fingers curling to find your entrance. You bucked against him, shouting for him to stop. Asking him to stop. The words were muffled, there was nothing you could do other than cry and toss your head to the side as he pushed his fingers into you, you couldn’t even close your legs.
“What’s this?” Gojo asked, pulling his fingers out of you. They glistened with evidence of your arousal, of your shame. “It really makes me question which one of us is sick.”
“You!” you shouted, trying to make yourself heard over the gag.
“Me?” Gojo asked, his eyes wide with innocence. “You’re the one who’s getting wet for your teacher. That’s pretty twisted.”
He pushed his fingers back into your pussy, driving them deep and curling them on the way out. For the first time, his breathing was getting unsteady. He kept rolling his hips up to grind against your ass, letting you feel his erection.
“Aaah, you’re really wet. And tight.” He thrust his fingers back into you with a wet squish, scissoring and curling them to make you spasm and shake. “Hey, hey, I’m gonna give you an out right now, okay?” Gojo said, his voice quick with excitement. “If you ask me nicely, we can suspend your punishment and get on to the fun stuff instead.”
He pulled his fingers out to take your panties out of your mouth, dropping them onto the bed.
“Come on,” Gojo said. “Ask me. I know you want it.”
You set your jaw, glaring at him through teary eyes. It was weak, pathetic, and petty, but silence was the only thing you could think to do that wasn’t giving him what he wanted.
He frowned, put out with your response.
“Jeez, you’re such an insufferable brat!” Gojo complained, flipping you onto your stomach. The sudden slap of skin meeting skin followed by the pain when he spanked you again made you scream, your legs pathetically kicking, your shoulders straining to free your hands.
“Stop!” you yelled, your voice shrill.
“Oh? But I thought you were being brave?” He said mockingly, spanking you again, and again.
You sobbed, pressing your face into the bed to muffle yourself as his hand came down again. Even though you fought him, there was nothing you could do to make him stop. True helplessness. It hurt, and there was no escape from it. Not when he took the time to brush his fingers across the tortured skin in between bursts, soothing you with a gentle touch.
“I don’t understand why you’re being such a baby about this,” Gojo said. He grabbed one of your stinging ass cheeks, pulling it to get a good look at your pussy. You knew you were wet. It wasn’t your fault, but you felt the same shame. “It can’t hurt that bad. If I used a cane or a belt or something I’d get it, but I think you’re just making a big deal to try and make me feel bad. It’s not working. You deserve this and, between you and me, it’s kind of sexy to see you so pathetic.”
Without warning, Gojo tossed you onto the bed face up, your arms pinned uncomfortably beneath your back. Your back arched and you dug your heels into the mattress, pushing yourself up the bed until you were curled against the headboard, your legs up to try and hide as much of your body as possible.
“By the way, are you a virgin?” Gojo asked, shoving his pants and underwear off in one go before looking for something on the floor. He found it quickly, returning to the bed. He didn’t care about his nudity. Why should he? He was beautiful and he knew it. Of course Satoru Gojo wouldn’t stop at being the strongest, or the most handsome, or whatever, of course he would have the perfect cock too. “I don’t care either way, I’m just curious.”
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, averting your eyes from his body to meet his as you pushed yourself into the headboard. They glittered in the dim light, wide and excited.
“No, you’re not a virgin?” Gojo asked. You realized what he had grabbed from the floor when he caught your ankle, forcing your foot through a loop he’d made with his belt.
“No! No, no, stop!” You shouted, trying to keep him from getting your other foot. He frowned when you kicked at him, desperate to keep him away. The resistance of his cursed energy kept you from actually kicking him, and you were rewarded with a hard, mean slap against your inner thigh. You squealed, giving him the chance to get your other foot in the belt cuffs before securing them.
“I was gonna be nice about this, but I guess not,” he said. You whined, sobbing. “You probably like it rough anyway, right? Girls like you always do.”
He pushed your knees up to make space between your legs, letting your bound ankles fall onto his back. You watched him stroking his cock. This was going to happen. He truly intended to fuck you. It didn’t set in until right in that moment how utterly powerless you were to this violation. His fingers had been one thing, but his cock was big enough to hurt if he wasn’t gentle.
“Don’t do this,” you whispered, your voice weak and pathetic. “Satoru, I’m begging you not to. I’m sorry, okay? That’s what you want me to say, right? I’m sorry, so don’t-”
“It’s too late for that,” Gojo said, separating your pussy’s outer lips, his tongue peeking out as he lined up his cock. You made a helpless sound of upset, trying to buck him off, but there was nowhere for you to go. “If you were really sorry, you should have apologized when I gave you the chance.” He pushed his hips forward, just a little, testing the resistance.
“Sensei!” you said, your panicked thoughts finding something to cling onto to make him stop. “Sensei, please stop. Please.”
Gojo smiled, his lips parting when he forced the head of his cock past the initial resistance of your pussy with a jarring pop. He groaned, both of his hands holding onto your waist while he shallowly rocked his hips.
Your mouth fell open, a sensation like shock striking against the viscerally real weight of his dick inside of you. That fell away to panic when he began to move, pushing a little deeper with a pinching ache.
“Ah—fff-take it out!” you squealed.
“Ah, and you were being so good for me,” he said, jolting your body with a hard, mean thrust. You whimpered, and writhed, and your pussy clamped down around him to try and force him out, but it didn’t matter. He was bigger and stronger and you were drenched from the vibrator. “Look at me.”
As soon as you met his eye, he pushed a little deeper, clearly reveling in the way it made your expression twist in pain and betrayal, more tears forming in your eyes and streaking down your temples. He licked his lips, rolling his hips shallowly to let you adjust to the size and weight of his cock. Like he was being nice.
“How can I feel bad when you look at me like that?” he asked, his voice lower and breathy. He pushed deeper again, your body jolting and a helpless sound punched out of your chest.
“It hurts,” you ground out through your teeth, more tears falling into your hair. The desire to be brave faded in direct relation to how much of his cock was inside of you. Being spanked was one thing, but the internal pain of violation wasn’t something you could handle. It was too intimate, too profound, too cruel.
“Yeah, you’re way too tight. That guy clearly hasn’t been fucking you properly. Do you want your sensei to make it better? I’ll help you, all you have to do is ask.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, weighing your options. Option. “Please, sensei,” you said, hating yourself a little more.
“Look at me when you’re begging,” Gojo said.
You winced, but the sudden snap of his hips made you relent. You met his dangerous, beautiful eyes. “Please, Gojo-sensei. It hurts, please make it better.”
“Aw, you’re such a good girl,” he cooed, grabbing your cheeks. “Of course I’ll help you.” His hand lowered to pin you down by the neck while he fumbled in the sheets beside you with the other. You heard the vibrator turn on a second before it was against your clit. There wasn’t anywhere for your body to go when you seized up, your back snapping into a nearly painful arch.
“No!” you yelped, but it was hard to get anything out from the obstruction of his hand on your neck.
It didn’t matter that his cock was big enough to hurt as he continued to push it into you. It didn’t matter that your shoulders burned or that your hands were numb.
“Go ahead and come,” Gojo told you sweetly. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? It’ll make this easier.”
You grit your teeth, breathing out hard through your nose, trembling as that little bubble burst, your pussy spasming around his cock as he began to set a steady pace. When his hips met your ass, slapping against the raw skin, you cried and yelled, but it all got lost in the confused haze of pleasure and pain and confusion and disgust and so much, too much.
Gojo was laughing. Fucking you too fast and too hard, focusing the vibrator right against your clit to keep you moving with him, your body writhing beneath his like you wanted it, soaking his cock until the room was filled with the profane sound of skin slapping and wet squelching.
“Mmm, it feels good, right?” Gojo asked. “I know you think I’m mean, but I really only want to take care of you.”
You came again, babbling the words ‘no’ and ‘can’t’ and ‘stop’ as if they had any meaning anymore, as if you weren’t well on your way to coming again despite how torturous the excess of stimulation had become.
“Sometimes, that means I have to be a little hard on you.” He fucked you hard enough to knock your head into the headboard, the entire thing pounding against the wall with each solid thrust. It hurt, it felt like he was splitting you apart, slamming against your cervix without even an attempt at kindness. But, at the same time, he turned the vibrator up a setting, rubbing little circles onto your clit.
Gojo put a hand on your mouth to stifle your scream, it was that loud and shrill, borderline feral with the terrifying intensity of your orgasm. You didn’t want to come anymore. You really didn’t, you felt like you were going to die if you did. And he laughed, giving up on the hard pace to fuck you fast, his breathing becoming increasingly unsteady and his laugh shivering out into moans.
Sobbing into his hand, you came again, unable to understand anything beyond the cock pounding into you and the vibrator torturing your clit.
Gojo dropped the vibrator suddenly, pulling out of you with a helpless sound. For a second, you heard the lewd schlick schlick schlick of his hand desperately fisting his cock and then you felt hot spurts of cum on your chest and your stomach. He finally took his hand off of your mouth, turning the vibrator off. All you could hear was your breathing and his breathing and the frantic pounding of blood in your ears.
“Whew, okay,” Gojo said, lifting your legs to get out from under them. “Where were we with the lesson? I think… I was spanking you and you were being a brat about it. Have you had a change of heart?”
You sobbed brokenly, squeezing your eyes shut. Trying to adjust to the shift of tone while you were still reeling from getting fucked, your torso covered in sweat and cum, felt like one of the most cruel things he had done so far.
“Please, sensei, please no more,” you begged, your voice breathy and cracking at the end. “Gojo-sensei please, I-I do, I respect you. I’ll—anything, please just…”
“Ahh, there’s a good girl. Finally,” Gojo said gently. “Okay, three more, and then I’ll forgive you.”
“No!” you cried hoarsely. “Please, no more.” You strained against the cuffs, thrashing as much as you were able. “Please, I’ll do… Please.”
“I need to make sure the lesson sticks,” Gojo said sweetly. “You’ve been so unreceptive. Three more, and then I’ll let you come again.”
“No!” you squealed, even more upset by that. The idea of feeling the vibrator again physically hurt, it was almost worse than the idea of him spanking you again.
“I want you to count them, okay?” Gojo asked pitilessly.
You sobbed, shaking your head, but you couldn’t do anything when he rolled you onto your belly.
“Don’t be so dramatic about it,” he scolded, getting behind you and pulling your hips up so you were on your knees, your back arching. He spanked you and you yelped, burying your face in the pillows. Gojo waited before sighing. “Count them, otherwise I’ll lose track. You wouldn’t want that, would you? We’d be here all night.”
You sniffled, peeling your face out of the pillows to turn your head. “One,” you whispered.
His hand landed again, right over the first. You cried out a word that mostly sounded like, “Two!”
And again, one of the hardest so far. “Thre-EE-”
“There, wasn’t that easy?” Gojo cooed, flipping you around and grabbing your ankles by the belt cuffs, pushing your knees up to your chest. When you heard the vibrator turn on, you tried to get away, squealing out your objections, sobbing and desperate and flinching away from the mere idea of more. It was like being presented with a bottle of liquor after a bout of alcohol poisoning.
“No, please no more, I can’t, please.”
“I told you, one more,” Gojo said. “You can do one more, can’t you? I think you can.”
You wailed when he pushed the vibrator against your swollen, oversensitive pussy, grinding it in little circles right over your clit while you spasmed and shook and tried desperately to escape the inevitable.
Coming when you were so overstimulated wasn’t pleasant, it was just more and more and too much, all of it piled onto your overloaded nervous system and making you shake as the pitiless heat flared up to bursting, pulling your body taut, and then it snapped, leaving you even more helplessly, hopelessly overstimulated than before.
Gojo didn’t pull it away, continuing to grind the vibrator against your clit, cruelly drawing out your feverish torment.
You wailed, your head tossing back into the pillows, your hips wildly trying to twist out of his reach. “Yo—ou said-”
“One more,” Gojo finished for you. “Come on, don’t be such a baby about it.”
Your nostrils flared and you sobbed pathetically and your pussy felt like it was burning just as desperately as your sore ass, but Gojo was going to wring one more orgasm out of you. It wasn’t hard, even if it hurt. Even if you cried and shook and felt the world darken around the edges when you felt the surge of pleasure fizzle out through you before it left you pained and panting and miserable.
But he finally shut the toy off, letting it fall to the side.
“What do we say?” Gojo asked, dropping your legs and falling onto his side next to you, propping his head up with one hand.
You groaned, your chest hitching with every breath. “I don’t…”
“Thank you, sensei,” he prompted sweetly, “for teaching me manners.”
“Thank you, sensei,” you repeated dumbly, keeping your eyes closed rather than acknowledge his heavy stare. “Thank you for teaching me manners.”
He laughed. “Wow, that’s really embarrassing. Earlier you were bragging about how it didn’t matter what I did to you, weren’t you? I was almost impressed with your resolve, it’s a shame to see it cave in so easily. What happened?”
You sobbed, shaking your head. “Shut up, you’re… It wasn’t my fault, it was you who… who…”
Gojo hissed, pulling a breath in through his teeth. It was a bad sound. A dangerous sound. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” you said, your eyes snapping open with fear. “I’m sorry, I’m…”
He frowned. “Maybe you haven’t learned your lesson after all,” he heaved out a big breath, sitting up. “That’s fine, I’m ready to go again. Anything for my favorite student, hm?”
#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#not sfw#tw. noncon#my writing#EVERYONE KNOWS IT
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𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬
synopsis. : your first call with your pen pal makes your feel dizzy. - in a good way
cont. : chubby!reader. bimbo!reader. penpal!gojo. gojo’s in prison, readers hair is in braids so what does that tell you ? fingering ( f ), reader touches their self to gojo’s voice. pet names : ( mama, doll, daddy, precious) phone sex ! sexually frustrated gojo
mirah note. : think i read this too much now i’m overthinking it hehe. oh well, feedback would be appreciated <3 🎀.
your first call with pen pal!gojo came with all types of nerves. the call was planned weeks in advance, yet you still could feel your palm’s sweating. getting pretty you hadn’t realized until the phone was already ringing that he wasn’t even gonna see you dressed up, - yet - something about it made you feel good.
“h-hello” you whispered only hearing his deep sighs. bitting into your sparkle pink glossed lips he finally spoke. tone rough, and husky that it went right to your lower area, undies pooling with wetness. “hi doll” gojo looked up at the reflective wall a smirk curling onto his lips.
“hmm .. think i like actually talking to you more. get to hear that sweet voice” he spread his legs, leaning his arm on them, the black phone still in his hands. your throat hitched on the line, body feeling all sorts of things, wanting all sorts of things. “u-uh yea ! h-how are you ?”
“i’m good precious, looking at the picture you sent and god mama. aren’t you just beautiful” you couldn’t help but smile, leaning back against the plush of your bed. you listened to him speak out every detail of the polaroid you sent with your letter. spreading your legs until the tips of your fingers touched you sensitive cunt.
“mmm” you softly moaned spreading the fatness of your lips the cool air blowing against you. you were so in awe at his voice that you almost missed his question of if you were okay, which you sheepishly gave a short answer.
“yea! m’fine- what w-were you saying ?” gojo knew exactly what you were doing. he could hear the quiet moans that you thought you were doing so good of hiding. “what you doing mama” he watched the guards walk back and forth while chucking at your poor excuse.
“princess, if you needed daddies help all you had to do was ask. go ahead’ slid in a finger” huffing you looked up at the fairy lights, spreading your legs wider. you grew annoyed by your underwear, but was too needy to take them off. you rubbed your bud slowly, breathing heavy into the microphone all until the annoying voice lady came onto the phone to let you both know you had three minutes left.
“shit. gotta make it quick mama, slid in a finger. now.” pressing against your hole, your finger slid in with ease. “g-gooo mmm” you thighs started to shake but you needed more, wanted to fill fuller.
“second one. now baby” you followed instructions. your moans getting louder more desperate, and gojo was paying for it. his cock pressing into the fabric of his underwear feeling contained. “just imagine baby” he leaned back against his chair, throwing his head back and spreading his legs.
“imagine me there”
“m-mm”
“like that huh? wishin daddy was there, to ease that ache. he would use his fingers and fuck them into you so hard while my lips wrapped around that pretty bud”
your pussy closed in on your finger, tummy bubbling. gojo sat in silence in bliss listening to your rambles and begs. “wannadaddy w-want’em so bad”
“daddy know’s mama, gonna get him so soon”
one minute remaining.
“m-m’CUMMINGGG GOO” squirt shot out of you getting all over your stuffies. ruining your skirt and sheets. makeup smudging into the furry fabric of your blanket.
gojo eyes clenched, cock pumping in the jumpsuit pre cum slowly dripping down him. “t-that’s my good girl. daddy loves you” and the line went dead. you both sitting for a few moments taking in every thing that just happened.
and gojo only felt the need to keep you to himself become stronger.
#gojo x black reader#gojo x chubby reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x black!reader#gojo satoru x chubby reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x chubby reader#jjk x black reader#jjk x reader#jjk x black y/n#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x black reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#anime x chubby reader#anime smut#anime x black!reader#anime x black reader#armin x black reader#x black reader
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