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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

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Based on this amazing ask.

Dark Thraller - Part 1

Azriel x HewnCity!Reader, Arranged Marriage

Something darker than the night itself lurks within the Hewn City. Something dark and lovely and his. Azriel suddenly finds himself with a bride that he never wanted but when their marriage may be the one thing that saves their world as they know it, duty trumps all.

The female watched from shadows behind the archway connecting a granite corridor to the throne room of the Hewn City, peering into the busy room. She could smell the fear simmering within the room, it stoked at her own power, building as it fueled her senses. She shouldn’t be here, to be caught could mean death, perhaps worse, but this was her only chance to find the Seer.

Azriel stood cross-armed, hazel eyes honed in on Elain Archeron as she gracefully meandered through the throne room of the Hewn City. Its lecherous denizens ogling her as if she were nothing more than a whore in a pleasure house. Her dress was modest, a whispy train of tulle falling from her shoulders and trailing behind her, the perfect decoy for hiding his shadows as they listened in for tonight’s intended target. The gown hugged her slim figure just enough to give a tease of the lithe female form beneath.

He rolled his eyes as he took her in, reminded of Cassian’s insistence that black wasn’t her color but he was wrong - she was the ethereal moon to the Night Court’s midnight skies.

———

Elain knew she did not belong here. Not within the stone walls of this forsaken city. Not because she was too fragile. No, despite the fact that her sisters coddled her and the rest of the Inner Circle treated her like a delicate flower that would wither at the slightest touch, it was often overlooked that she had slain the King of Hybern. Sure, Nesta received credit for the final blow, but it was Elain who had been vital that day.

She didn’t belong here because of its own inherent darkness that mingled so well with the darkness within her own soul. She’d always tried to make the best of life, but years of poverty, being forced into the cauldron, losing Graysen, an unrequited mating bond, their fathers death, being held captive in Hybern’s camp, nearly losing Feyre during Nyx’s birth, the strife didn’t hold a candle to the pain she felt from being granted the so-called “gift” of sight and having no way to decipher it. Her visions were not light and airy, they were dark and inky, ominous at best.

The few times she’d visited this sect of the Night Court, her visions plagued her. Glimpses of gods and shadows, sacrificed maidens, life and death. And then, there was last time. The collision of an outside force greeting her own power, something fearsome and yet- gentle.

Azriel’s shadows gave a tug on the cape of Elain’s gown, working of their own accord. To Azriel’s chagrin, the last time they’d been here his shadows pushed boundaries, ignoring commands to stand down as they searched the space. They’d trailed Elain who had a particularly concerning vision of shadows upon water and whispers of death.

With the concerns of Koschei following the events with the Queens on the continent, it was enough to garner another visit. So, here they were. Azriel watching Elain like a hawk as she and his shadows searched the place.

Eyes diverted away from Elain as the main act arrived, Rhys and Feyre loosening the grip on their power as the doors flew open- their steps echoing throughout the now silent chamber as the High Lord and High Lady approached the dais. The crowd, having learned from previous reprimand, fell to their knees before their rulers.

It was then that Azriel’s shadows completely shrouded Elain, granting her cover as she dipped down a corridor that Azriel had very clearly lectured them NOT to go down. He wasn’t about to risk Elain’s safety, even if it meant failing the mission at hand of garnering more sight into these possible Koschei visions.

Elain took no more than ten steps down the corridor when a voice startled her from the shadows. “You.”

Elain gasped as Azriel’s shadows created a wall of shadow before her.

Not to protect her - but to conceal the source of the voice.

How very strange.

A lump formed in Elain’s throat as she mustered her courage for a moment, composing herself before squaring her shoulders and holding her head high.

“Yes?” She asked.

“You’re the Seer.” The voice spoke again. Feminine. Young, likely twenty or thirty but it was hard to tell with the fae.

“I am.” Elain spoke firmly. “And you are?”

The voice started before turning into a strangled gasp. The shadows cleared for Elain to find Azriel, holding the female from behind with Truth-Teller against her throat.

“I know what you are.” His deep voice spoke into her ear, his heated breath sending chills through the female.

“Azriel.” Elain spoke. “She was only curious. She didn’t harm me.”

Azriel didn’t move a muscle, only lifting his hazel eyes from behind the female to meet Elain’s gaze. “You don’t know what she is. The danger you were in.”

The cool blade pressed against the female’s throat and if it wasn’t for the obvious threat she posed, Azriel would have had a hard time missing the way her body fit so enticingly against his, the way her ass-

He growled. “Quit it.”

“Quit what?” The female puzzled.

Through gritted teeth, Azriel warned, “Your powers will not affect me, Dark Thraller.”

Elain kept quiet but she didn’t miss the smirk that rose on the female’s face at that. There was something about this female that resonated with her. She had a gentle presence, soft in all the right places to enhance her feminine appearance in a way that would leave most underestimating her, yet Elain knew there was more to this female, something deeper, something darker than her bright eyes let on.

Someone who could understand her.

———————————

Keir burst through the dungeon door first, followed by the general of his Dark Bringer forces and his second in command, Lord Thanatos.

“Keir, how nice of you to join us.” Rhys mused. Arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

Rhys and Azriel had spent the past two hours with the female, named Y/N, in the dungeons of the Hewn City. She was a Dark Thraller. An incredibly rare power of ancient fae, until today, it had been thought of as myth. She could not only wield darkness and shadow on her own accord but she could steal it, borrowing directly from the source, hence Azriel‘s shadows obscuring her from Elain. It was fortunate that he’d taken her by surprise when he’d snuck up on her, able to pull his shadows from her thrall and regain them as his own. Though they weren’t particularly eager to return to his side. He was still pissed about that.

The fact that Keir had kept this female a secret was enough to chap Azriel’s ass too. Mor’s father should have reported the female the moment her powers manifested, yet, he’d hoarded her. And much like with Mor, Keir and Lord Thanatos planned to breed her, using her as a bargaining chip in an arranged marriage to some noble on the continent that she had never laid eyes on.

“Release my daughter, immediately.” Lord Thanatos boomed.

The female remained silent, still, but Azriel didn’t miss the way her skin paled at his command. Rhys let out a dangerous laugh, not the warm laugh of the brother Azriel knew so well, but the bitter laugh of a High Lord about to put a subordinate into his place, or the ground, depending on how generous he was feeling.

Both males froze in place, faces turning cherry red as they fought against invisible restraints. Rhys placed an errant hand into his left pocket, a cruel smirk plastered across his face. “It seems I have not given enough attention to the seat of my court in recent years if this is how its people choose to greet their High Lord.”

His violet eyes narrowed as he took a tone befitting of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history. “Kneel”

And before they had a chance to do so on their own accord, Rhys forced them into a submission. A gentle - considering the force he was capable of - reminder that they were indeed the lesser males in the room.

Rhys released his hold on the males as they gasped for air, remaining knelt until their High Lord dismissed the formal stance.

“It seems, Keir, that you and Lord Thanatos have been keeping this little gem a secret.” Nodding his head toward the restrained female, who easily could have broken the shadows to her submission. A test, then. To see how impulsive she was with her power, what manner of control she practiced over it.

Azriel didn’t trust her. Thralling? Yes, a Dark Thraller typically attracted darkness and shadow with their thralling abilities but how far did her capabilities go? Could she work on the minds of those wielding darkness as well?

Azriel broke from his inner thoughts to find the female staring at him with wide eyes. She was nervous. He stepped closer to her, keeping his gaze firm and narrowed but to his surprise, the nervous energy surrounding her did not increase. In fact, she seemed to relax slightly.

That was certainly a first for him in these dungeons.

Azriel had been so focused on her that he missed the last bit of groveling from Keir and Lord Thanatos. His attention once again fixed on the males and his High Lord as Rhys summoned a large table and five chairs.

Keir scoffed. “This is a conversation for males, she-“ he spoke the pronoun with venom, “has no business in these affairs.”

Rhys waved a dismissive hand at the male. “I always forget what antiquated views you harbor. At this table, she has a place. In fact, she has more of a place here than you do, since you so rudely interrupted our-” interrogation “conversation.”

“Azriel.” Rhys nodded toward the bound female.

Begrudgingly, Azriel released his restraints on the female. She stood, slowly, maintaining eye contact with him as she smoothed her satin gown, the fabric clung deliciously to her curves but Azriel was most taken by those mesmerizing eyes of hers as they held his cold stare. No malice, or hatred lay in her own eyes, the emotion was something that made his heart lurch. The same look a snared creature would give a hunter that held its fate in their hands, the same look a young boy once gave his cruel half-brothers as fuel soaked his hands while they held the flaming match.

Y/N broke her eye contact and approached the table, holding her head high. To her- and everyone in the room not named Rhysand’s - shock, he pulled the chair at the table’s head out and motioned for her to sit. He kept the arrogant mask plastered on and waited until she accepted that he was serious, shifting uncomfortably for a moment, before seating herself. That nervousness once again returning as she looked to the two Court of Nightmares males to her right.

Truly, Azriel didn’t trust her but he couldn’t bear to see that look on her face. He’d met her two hours ago and already knew she was too good to be intimidated by these pricks.

Azriel stepped to Keir, seated directly to next to her, Rhys seated to her left - and flatly commanded “move.”

Keir huffed an insidious laugh. “I don’t take orders from dogs.”

Azriel remained stoic, refusing to deign the pompous male with even a breath of irritation. He’d been called far worse

Rhys didn’t bat an eye at the command from his Spymaster, knowing Mor’s history, of course he would feel inclined to keep him distanced from a female stuck in a nearly identical situation as the one she was faced with all those centuries ago. “Keir, you truly are going out of your way to play the fool today. Keep it up and maybe we can reenact what happened to your arm the last time you disregarded the station of one of my Inner Circle?”

Keir bristled slightly before tucking his shoulders in a show of submission, pushing himself up, and swapping places with the Shadowsinger.

Azriel didn’t miss the slight ease of tension in Y/N’s jaw as he sat, though her heartbeat remained racing as indicated by the visible thrumming of her pulse in her neck and quickened breathing. His shadows gravitated toward her, intertwining with her ankles and then scurried away when she looked to them in a reprimanding manner.

By the rather adorable scowl furrowing across her brow, he had a feeling she hadn’t used her thralling abilities on them either. Interesting.

For all that they were excellent for spying, the things were incurably nosey to a fault.

Clearing his throat, Rhys began “It has been brought to my attention that lady Y/N is to be married to a male on the continent, not as a marriage of love but as one of title. Given her unique powers I propose that we arrange a marriage within our own court that will be both advantageous to the Night Court and to her in terms of power. Do you wish to elaborate on who you intend to marry her off to?”

Azriel noted the bead of sweat on Lord Thanatos’ brow as he glanced to Keir, vaguely-concealed concern flitting between the two.

Keir cleared his throat. “The male is simply a lesser-noble from a wealthy family on the continent. She is not worth the attention, your grace. Her power will be of no use to your court. They’re nothing more than an amusing party trick.”

Leaning back in his chair, Rhys held his chin between his thumb and forefinger in a show of consideration, before giving a grin. “I do enjoy parties. And it seems as if I could find a suitor that would be far more advantageous considering this unnamed lesser-noble is not even worth noting. Don’t you agree?”

Y/N seemed to shrink in her seat but what Azriel read on her face looked almost like “hope.”

What had she been put through for her future to be discussed as if she were nothing more than loose marks to be spent frivolously and still feel hope? He grit his teeth at the way Rhys carried on with the act, though he knew it was simply that- an act.

Silence filled the space and Azriel didn’t miss the way his High Lord’s gaze went vacant, communicating with someone. A small hitch in the breath of Y/N clued him in to exactly who he was communicating with.

“I’ve decided.” Rhys purred. “Lord Thanatos, your lovely daughter will wed my Shadowsinger.”

Outrage filled the room as the males let out shouts of disapproval before Rhys let his darkness fill the room. “Am I not High Lord? Do I not have final say in the affairs of my denizens?”

The males were silent. Rhys loosened his power further, a rumble sending loose dirt falling from the ceiling of the room onto the table before them. “I expect an answer.”

Lowering their gazes in submission, it was Keir who spoke first, “Yes, High Lord.”

Lord Thanatos let out a growl, shooting a violent glare in Keir’s direction.

“I expect an answer, Lord Thanatos.” Rhysand challenged.

After another moment, he finally caved in to the show of power. “Yes, High Lord.” The male growled.

The darkness faded as Rhys clapped his hands together. “Excellent. This evening just became far more interesting. We shall wed the two tonight!”

To his credit, Azriel said nothing, not one single show of disapproval or questioning.

“You two may be dismissed. We will coordinate the details of the wedding.”

As the two males, completely dumbfounded, exited the cell. The female looked to the floor, avoiding Azriel’s stony gaze- the gaze of her soon-to-be husband. Which was for the best as Azriel sent her a glare reserved for the worst of traitors. He did not want this, he wanted nothing to do with the female. His heart was destined to belong to the middle Archeron sister. He was to share his life with HER, not this strange enigma from the Hewn City.

Moments later, Elain and Feyre entered the room. Elain’s expression unreadable as they retrieved the female, Cassian and Nesta flanking them protectively as they led her off to prepare for the ceremony.

————

Rhysand knew he was a bastard. He took the corresponding show of rage from Azriel in stride, unable to disagree with the cold words and show of opposition to his order to marry the female.

What Azriel hadn’t seen was the terror Rhysand had gleaned in her mind. Her power was not a party trick, in fact she’d been hidden away beneath the Hewn City and put through rigorous training from the first moment her powers emerged. This female was trained to be used as a weapon and treated as such, there was nothing humane or loving about the environment she’d grown up in. But far more concerning than even the abhorrent conditions she had been brought up in was the undiluted panic regarding her impending nuptials. She indeed did not know who she was to be married to but she had suspicions.

Not to be wed to an unknown lord from the continent, not even to the highest ranking of nobility, but to a supreme being of death and decay, to Koschei himself.

And if her suspicions were correct, a power like hers in his hands would bring immeasurable suffering, an end to the world as they knew it. She was the token Keir needed to barter for his own rise to power. Ruling just the Court of Nightmares was never enough for a greedy bastard like him.

“The only way we can get her out of here is by wedding her to you tonight. If she’s wed, they have no contest to-” Rhys bristled as he spoke of the female as anything less than her own entity “They cannot claim ownership of her if she is wed. We cannot risk another moment of her being in their hands, Az. This marriage does not have to last forever, just long enough to ensure she is out of their hands and that we are in her good graces. Your duty is to keep her happy and protect her, if she ends up in the wrong hands, Azriel- more than just our own rule is at stake, Prythian, the world, could be doomed.

Guilt pressed in on the High Lord. If there were any other way, he would take it, but for now this was the most humane route.

And as Rhys shared the female’s suspicions of Koschei with Azriel, he understood. He hated every moment of this but he understood. He didn’t have to love her, he didn’t have to like her even, but he could stomach her as he did with any other undesirable duty.

_________

Azriel stood on the dais before a crowd of sneering Hewn City denizens. For this, his leathers would do. He was to send a message of power to the Court of Nightmares and removing his siphons would not do. Rhys and Feyre remained seated on their thrones appearing bored as they took in the quickly thrown together wedding, little more than wine and night-blooming jasmine marked the occasion. Though Rhys would have loved watching Lord Thanatos have to hand his daughter over to the Shadowsinger, he didn’t want him anywhere near her. She had dealt with enough coldness from the male in her twenty-five years of life, never again would she have to suffer through her father’s unkind hands upon her.

So, Azriel waited, his eyes focused solely on Elain as the doors opened and music began to play. Cassian would escort her to the dais. Azriel spared no glance to his bride as the audience turned in her direction. Even Elain who had caught his gaze briefly, and Lord Thanatos and his equally hateful wife who stood behind her, turned to marvel at the bride striding up the aisle. Azriel’s heart raced. He wanted Elain. His shadows pulled on him. Coaxing him to divert his gaze from the Archeron sister. No. He wanted Elain. His heart beat wildly as a tug pulled at him. He would not look. This female was not who his heart belonged to. He belonged to Elain. Azriel’s shadows hissed in his ears to look as his heart urged him to spare a glance in her direction.

Finally, he shifted his gaze and time stood still. Before him was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. No longer did she appear meek, or nervous- she stood taller with her head held high. A cobalt blue gown hugged her curves, dipping down to reveal her ample cleavage, the fabric clung to the curve of her hips, caressing her upper thighs before flaring out toward the bottom. Her knuckles tightly gripped a bouquet of morningstar flowers and delphinium. Where the dress had been conjured from, Azriel had no idea. The flowers were likely Elain’s doing. He tried to turn his head back to Elain but he couldn’t bring himself to avert his gaze away from the beauty before him.

His shadows left his side, flowing down the aisle and swirling around the bottom of her gown, giving the appearance that they were carrying her to him. The crowd gasped at the illusion and Azriel noticed the surprise on her face. Either she was an excellent actress or she truly didn’t have the control over her powers.

But Rhys had said that she’d been trained from the time they manifested. Surely they weren’t going to her on their own accord. Was her thrall that powerful?

Azriel nearly felt his shoulders slump in disappointment as her gaze shifted to Elain who awaited at the foot of the dais to retrieve the bouquet.

As Elain stepped forward, a tear was heard followed by a gasp. Azriel looked to see that the bottom half of Elain’s dress had torn. Her cheeks flushed, eyes wide with shock. Before Azriel could react, he felt loss of control over his shadows as Y/N flung her arms out commanding them in Elain’s direction. Azriel’s heart lurched, fury clouding him at this attack on Elain, he stepped forward only to halt in his tracks as two shadows darted out to restrain Y/N’s mother, and the remaining shadows shrouded Elain completely.

Y/N hurried toward Elain, stepping into the confines of the shadows, now shrouding the both of them. Azriel almost smirked as Y/N’s voice loudly echoed from the shadows “Don’t mind her. She’s even uglier inside than that sneer she wears on her face, which says a lot.” A soft giggle from Elain reached Azriel’s ears. “Come on, let’s get you something else to wear. Can your sister bring some wine?”

The crowd parted as the shadowed females made their way out of the crowd, Nesta and Cassian following suit.

This female stopped her own wedding to come to the aid of a female she didn’t even know. Azriel didn’t know what to think of that but he did know that he couldn’t let himself fall for her. He wouldn’t let himself fall for her.

——————————————————

A/N: this will be a 2 or 3 part series! I am too tired to proofread so if there were a bunch of typos, no there weren’t.

Tags:

ACOTAR general: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139

Requested tags based on previous excerpt posted: @erikan809 @thalia-as-blog

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #arranged marriage #shadowsinger #azriel Angst #Azriel smut #azriel series #acotar fanfiction

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 3 months ago

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Who Is In Control? (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Black!F!Villain!Reader x Hunter!Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: Sung Jinwoo is the highest-ranking hunter and the most powerful human being humanity has ever seen. So is Gojo Satoru. Both cocky, both confident, and both eager for more power, they compete against each other for each gate that seems to get more dangerous the farther and higher they go. They figure your gate won’t be any different and that you will be the usual big baddie that they need to take care of. Another cog in the system. Until they manage to beat you and find out who you truly are behind your facade. Now the hunters are hellbent on keeping you to themselves. So, what’s another friendly competition? Only this time, the prize is you.

Chapter Warnings: MILD SPOILERS; Blood/Injury; Hypnosis; Manipulation; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Tried to get this out tonight because I really didn't want to wait till Sunday to drop it. Please enjoy my poorly-written action sequences lol -Jazz

CHAPTERS: PREFACE. ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX.

*************

TWO: WHY AM I HERE?

Kill All Humans.

It is the only thought plaguing your mind that is currently going on hyperdrive because of your newest “visitors”.

Intruders are more like it. You have always despised any stranger invading your gate, your kingdom, your domain just to snag a prize. That is often why you see these hunters–and you say that with disdain and disgust–enter your gate, time after time, over and over again. And over and over again, you show them that you are just not someone to be beaten so easily. You can’t even begin to count how many hunters you have watched die over the years, either at your hands or by the swords of your army.

You sit on your throne now, sitting patiently and filing your long, claw-like nails. There is only the sound of the fire blazing outside of your very tall, very ominous castle that overlooks your kingdom set ablaze with flames. Flames that you caused some time ago that have continued to grow and grow, engulfing everything in their path. The villagers who once lived in this kingdom have long since left now, leaving only you. The new ruler. The new Queen of this kingdom and Boss of this gate.

And it still isn’t enough. It is never enough. You can feel the need for more power, more blood, more everything simmering under your bosom right beneath the bodice of your gown. Your crown, silver and dripping in diamonds, sits on top of your head, only held up by your neck and the french braid that your servants carefully braided for you. They had better be careful. You created them and your army yourself from your own two hands after taking over this kingdom.

You remember when you first “came” to this world (“appeared” is more like it, though you can hardly remember either) when villagers still roamed, the skies were still blue, and hunters weren’t invading your land. But then you suddenly…snapped. You can’t quite describe it even now. All you remember is hearing “Kill All Humans” in your head and suddenly, you were standing among the destruction of the kingdom that once flourished with life.

Though there is a part of you that feels immense guilt for this, you have no idea where this part comes from. Is it you thinking this? Could it be something that plagues you at night where you have nightmares of strange creatures calling themselves “Gods” and men with blue eyes? Could it be…

Your frustrating thoughts take the back burner when one of your soldiers in clanky medieval armor comes walking in. He takes a bow, silent. Just as you created them to be. Only to listen and obey your every command. “What?” you snap. “Didn’t I tell you about–”

Your lecture is cut off when the soldier lifts his head and suddenly, you feel it: a vibration inside of you that feels as if your veins and cells are shaking. You stop filing your nails and sit up straight. “They are near, aren’t they?” you ask. Your soldier obediently nods. You smile, and once again, you are plagued by that one thought: “Kill All Humans”.

“Perfect,” you whisper and stand in your dress. You wave a hand to your soldier, snapping at him. “Then don’t just stand there. Get the others and cover me.” As your soldier walks off to do as he is told, you pucker your lips and exhale slowly, causing wisps of red smoke to escape your mouth.

Instantly, your dress melts away and is replaced with armor black as tar. A sword, bigger than your thigh and sharp to the touch, sits at your hip, ready to be unsheathed. You place your helmet on to hide your features as you usually do. You never fight hunters without it. You don’t want them looking at you.

With just one thought and your willpower, you teleport from your castle to the burning lands of your kingdom. Your army is already here, standing at attention and bowing at your arrival. In front of you is nothing but plumes of smoke with only the shadows of destroyed buildings and cobbled streets facing you…and also a herd of undead animals and a tall knight standing in front of them. They are shadowy figures, each one appearing like ghosts.

‘Da fuck?’ you think, utterly confused. These couldn’t possibly be the intruders, could they? They’re not even alive! But at the sight of the blue glow that illuminates them, you realize what they are. Shadows. “Necromance work,” you whisper. You look to the knight standing silently before you. “You’re controlled by one, aren’t you?”

The knight doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts his sword and charges at you at full speed. Dozens of your soldiers run to your aid, but they are distracted by the herd of bears, orcs, and a giant fucking ant herdling at them. The knight is so fast that you barely escape his sword, having to duck to avoid getting your head cut off. “Fuck!” you hiss.

You don’t even have time to recover because the sword is coming down towards you again. You thrust your sword up to block it, grunting at the force and power of the knight in front of you. He has taken on a light purple glow that emits from his black armor and you notice a scar at his right eye. You don’t see a face though, but you figured as a shadow that he wouldn’t have much.

With a grunt, you use all of your energy to thrust him away, sending him careening backwards. He quickly recovers and assumes a battle-ready position. You stand before him, laughing despite the sweat coating your face behind your helmet. “Y’know, you’d actually be kinda hot if you weren’t tryin’ to kill me. I like guys who don’t talk much.”

That seems to anger the knight because he charges at you again and suddenly begins swinging his sword this way and that, trying to get any open point on your body. You try desperately to keep up, using any and every ounce of speed and strength given to you. But God, does it hurt! Your arms ache in your armor and each clang of your swords colliding hurts your ears. This guy is fast and lustful for blood. Whoever is controlling him must be as well.

You have never faced anything like him before. Clearly because when he swipes his sword at your head a second time, you crumble to your knees, your sword clattering out of your hand. Before you can take a breath, the knight stands above you and raises his sword high, preparing to thrust it into your chest if not your brain.

“Igris, heel!” comes a loud, guttural demand. It is a demand that stops the knight dead in his tracks. It stops you, your army, and the shadows too. The battle ceases as each head turns to regard the owner of the voice.

Admittedly, if it wasn't his voice that stops you in your tracks, it would definitely be his looks. The man is the very definition of “tall, dark, and handsome”. Your eyes roam over his lanky yet muscular form despite his mundane clothes, his black undercut, his long legs, his to-die-for cheekbones and jawline, and…. Your eyes widen at the sight of his electric blue irises. The same ones you have seen in your dreams.

‘Danger,’ your mind screams. ‘This man is danger.’ Your body seems to wail it too with the way your heart races and your stomach dips. You telepathically signal for your minions for protection, but neither of them move. They are all glued to the spot, staring at the blue-eyed, dark-haired hunter whose camp whips around their ankles in the fiery air.

As the hunter comes walking over, his gait calm and collected, all of his shadows vanish into thin air. All except for Igris, the knight, who takes his sword away from you and digs it into the ground before kneeling. You don’t use it as a chance to ask. Who knows what this hunter could do to you? You just watch, shocked and confused, as the hunter stops at Igris’ side and lays a hand on his helmet. His aura is quite powerful…and seductive. He is doing nothing but standing there and yet, he makes your stomach flip-flop.

“Nicely done,” he praises his shadow in a deep, soothing, oh-so-delicious voice. “You got real far with this. I knew I could count on you.” You shiver as if his saccharine words of praise are directed at you. You have never been so captured by a voice before. When he finally puts those dazzling, intense eyes on you, it shocks you to your core. Your body seizes and your muscles tense. You feel as if he is looking deep into your soul, peering into your past, present, and future with one look.

God, what the hell is happening to you?

An almost sardonic smile appears on the hunter’s lips. “Hi, there,” he draws out. “I’m guessin’ you’re the Boss for this gate, right?” He cocks his head to the side, sizing you up. “You’re not much to look at it, and I mean that size wise. I usually get Bosses much bigger than–”

With a grunt, you grab your sword and swing it at him, only for Igris to block your attack with his own sword. The hunter peeks out from behind Igris’ shoulder, shock leaving his face. “Oh,” he says. “Guess you wanna start. Alright, I can get down with that.”

Igris tosses you aside, the force of it sending you careening yards away, but you manage to skid to a stop in the dirt, Akira sliding with your hand shooting out to bring you to a pause. The hunter wills Igris away and pulls out his own sword. A bigger one than Igris’ that is alight with blazing blue flames. “I’d prefer skippin’ to the good point anyway,” he chuckles.

He charges at you and you charge at him, the both of you running at full speed towards one another until you’re a foot away. Your swords clash instantly, the clanging of metal heard throughout the land like thunder clapping in the sky. Under the dark storm clouds hanging in the sky, you dance the Dance of Death with the hunter, moving when he moves, following every step he makes. And vice versa. “Not bad,” he comments, actually giving you a smile. “But I’m better.”

The man would be a lot more charming if he wasn’t trying to kill you. You will hand it to him: the man can fight. He doesn’t seem to stop, always sensing what you are about to do next. It’s like he has eyes everywhere! ‘Does he?’ you deliriously wonder. Just who is this person?

So caught up in your thoughts, you make a misstep and lower your sword just a bit. It allows the hunter to swing the sword your way, not to try to cut off your head but to make you retreat as if he is. With a gasp, you clatter onto your back in your armor, the wind knocked out of you. You stare through the slits in your helmet at the hunter. He stares down at you, smirking. “C’mooon, you gettin’ tired already? The fun’s just begun.”

Before you can even think of conjuring help, the hunter is suddenly pinning you to the ground with one hand grabbing your neck. You grunt as his long fingers grip your throat, making it hard to breathe. “Gotcha,” he whispers, and his blue eyes flash. “Any last words?”

You don’t speak. You can’t. Even if you could, you wouldn’t. He actually looks slightly disappointed. “You’re not gonna speak to me at all, eh?” He tuts, shaking his head as he takes his sword and presses the tip of it above your armor, right over your heart. “No matter. Your words won’t matter once you’re dead.” The look in his eyes is absolutely murderous, fully content with killing you and enjoying it.

Unfortunately for him, you need to live just a little longer. Quickly, you jut your head up to force the front of your helmet off of your lips. You begin to move your lips, pretending to speak low and weak. As you planned, the hunter stares at you, perplexed. “Huh?” he asks himself.

He leans down closer to hear you, getting closer…and closer…until you are able to press your lips to his in a forceful kiss. He moans in shock and immediately pulls away, wiping his mouth.

“What the hell?!” he angrily bellows. “Why did you…” His rageful expression suddenly vanishes and he blinks at you as if seeing you for the first time. Your attack worked. “What did you do?” he asks, bewildered.

You use that chance to kick him in the balls and make a break for it. You scramble to your feet and teleport as far as you can come from him, but you don’t get to stand in your freedom for too long. Before you can teleport back to the safety of your castle, you scream as you’re suddenly yanked into the air as if pulled up by strings like a puppet.

The world turns upside down and you realize that you’re hanging in the air headfirst! You try to move, but you can’t. Your arms are stuck at your sides and your legs are immoble as you hang in thinair. ‘I can’t move!’ you think in a panic. ‘Shit, this is bad!’

You begin to hyperventilate as the dark-haired hunter comes waltzing over after recovering from your ball shot…but he isn’t alone. Someone else appears in front of him, beating him to you.

A very tall, very hot someone with stark white hair, a blindfold, and a playful smile on his pink lips. “Head over heels for me already?” he tuts. “My, my…and you don’t even know my name yet!” His voice is not as deep as his fellow hunter’s, but it is just as seductive and seems to make you throb.

You can’t dwell on it for too long because both hunters have gotten closer to you, watching you hang suspended in the air with peaked interest.

“Cheater,” the dark-haired one growls. “You can’t steal my kill, Gojo. I had her first.”

Gojo, the white-haired hottie, turns to face his colleague. “And you failed. Hate the game, not the player, Jinwoo. And I’m not gonna kill her just yet–I’ve got some questions for her first.” He turns to you, inspecting you despite his blindfold. You don’t understand how he can even sense you with the blindfold on, but then again, you figure that he is just as powerful as Jinwoo. “I know you’ve got a face under there.” He cocks his head to the side, curious and seductive. “You wanna take off that helmet and face me?”

You keep quiet despite something in your subconscious telling you to do it. Telling you to give in to the strange, sexy hunter and his partner. But you say nothing. “C’mooon, I know you don’t wanna die,” Gojo drawls. “Boss or not, you’ve still got a life.” He then takes a hand and glides it across the metal of your helmet. “So you may wanna watch your behavior if you don’t wanna piss me off,” he whispers.

Again, you say nothing. Instead, you wait until he slowly peels the slot to your mouth upward to plant the same kiss you gave Jinwoo onto his lips. He yelps in shock, immediately pulling away. “Da fuck?!” he angrily shouts and Jinwoo covers his mouth to hide a laugh.

A strange, dangerous blue light suddenly emits from Gojo’s person and he waves his hand in a sharp cutting motion. You are slammed hard into a wall beside you and roughly turned upright to be pinned against the bricks. You feel pain explode behind your skull and on your right side, making you gasp behind your helmet. You see stars that drift in your vision, making it hard to focus on the two hunters in front of you.

Gojo tuts, shaking his head at you as if you’re an insolent child. “Do you not know stranger danger, girly? You can’t just go around kissing people you don’t…oh, fuck.” He pauses, laying a hand on his chest.

“What?” Jinwoo asks, confused. Gojo’s Adam’s Apple bobs as he roughly swallows, a warm blush coating his cheeks. “You don’t feel that shit? Like real hot and tingly?” Your eyes switch to Jinwoo, hoping to see that the same symptoms are taking effect. The dark-haired hunter’s intense eyes fall on you, narrowing. “She drugged us,” he growls.

Before you can utter a breath, he wraps a hand around your throat and slams you into the wall again, causing your scalp to slam hard against the jagged bricks. You feel something wet dripping down your neck and you realize that you’re bleeding. Jinwoo’s eyes are positively murderous, with no humanity left in them. You’re going to die if you don’t say something.

“S-Stop!” you cough, desperate and in anguish. “Please stop! I give up, okay?!” Jinwoo’s brows scrunch in confusion. “Oh, so you’re talkin’ now?” Gojo huffs. He goes to say more, but Jinwoo raises a hand to stop him. He loosens his grip on your throat, but still keeps his hand there. “Reveal yourself,” he demands you.

You don’t know if it is free will or if he hypnotized you to some degree, but you find yourself taking off your helmet with shaky hands. The hunters’ eyes widen at the sight of your face, not at all ghastly like many of the Bosses they have encountered before. “Damn,” they both murmur to themselves.

You do not focus on the way their eyes roam over your features or the fact their cheeks have grown pinker. You just want to live. “I-I give up,” you sob, dropping your helmet to the ground. “I completely give in to you both. This win is yours. Just please…don’t kill me.”

You feel tears prick at your eyes as the blood trickles down your neck under your armor. Your right side aches like someone just took a blow to it. You are in no shape to fight or attempt to escape. You can’t even begin to think about teleporting away. Your energy is completely gone.

Jinwoo raises an eyebrow at your begging. “And why shouldn’t we?” he asks. “You tried to kill us, didn’t you?”

“I was forced to!” you cry out, tears springing into your eyes now. “I can’t think of anything else, but to–” You suddenly grunt, your body tensing at the spark of pain in your side. You feel as if you have been stabbed. What is happening to you? The hunters stare in concern and suspicion, both trying to decide if you are being truthful. “P-Please help,” you plead. “I don’t wanna be like this.”

After a beat of silence, Jinwoo drops his hand from your throat. You slide down against the wall before you crumble to your knees, unable to find the strength to get up. “You want us to help you, then you help me,” he cooly replies. He and Gojo stand over you, looming like two storm clouds. “Answer me this: What is it that makes you wanna kill hunters? Why are you here?”

“And why did your gate go red so quickly?” Gojo adds. “What’s goin’ on here?”

“W-What?” you whimper, your mind scrambled. “I-I don’t know!” You flinch as you feel your head throb with the onslaught of an oncoming migraine.

Jinwoo suddenly kneels in front of you, his face inches from yours. “Wrong answer.” His eyes flash that same electric blue that has haunted you for nights now. “Why. Are. You. Here?” His voice echoes in your head, making your head throb even more.

‘Why am I here?’ you think. ‘Why am I here?’

You can’t remember. How exactly did you get here? Who were you before all of this? And why do you feel so drawn to these two men that you’ve never met before?

Suddenly, that mantra comes back. The only thing you remember from the past that you’re not even sure belongs to you: “Kill. All. Humans.”

You grunt again and press a hand to your right side. Your hand comes back stained with blood. You turn to Jinwoo to ask for help, but another voice unlike yours leaves your lips. “Subject has reached completion of speech,” an automated, robotic voice says out of your mouth.

Then, all you see is blackness when you pass out in the arms of Jinwoo.

***********

Taglist: @leviackerman2030 @emonaculate @lnette04

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #black writers #my fic shit #jjk smut #poly smut #solo leveling smut #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo smut #solo leveling x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #sung jin woo #anime crossover #anime smut

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kaira-diaries · 4 months ago

Text

Show but don’t Tell:

⚠️: SMUT || age gap (university student) 18+ || Professor In-ho

pairing: Professor!In-ho x fem!reader

wc: 5k

a/n: ahhh I promised more of these two and wrote something out for them! This can be read as a standalone or as a second part to teachers pet, which is linked below! Just some smut with plot!!

->teachers pet<-

->masterlist<-

It was Monday, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t painfully hungover.

Your head pounded with every movement, a dull, relentless ache that made even the dim morning light filtering through the curtains feel like an assault. But none of that mattered right now—because you and Emma were in full-blown panic mode.

Your dorm room was a disaster zone. Clothes were strewn across the floor, drawers yanked open, shoes kicked into random corners as the two of you scrambled in a frenzied search for anything remotely presentable.

“Where the hell are my jeans?” Emma groaned, rifling through a pile of clothes.

“I don’t know! I can’t even find my other sneaker,” you snapped, shoving aside textbooks and empty coffee cups. The time on your alarm clock mocked you, the red digital numbers blinking unforgivingly.

You were late.

Sooo late.

And if there was one thing you knew about In-ho, it was that he was a stickler for attendance. You could practically hear his disappointed sigh already, see the unimpressed tilt of his head as he peered over the rim of his glasses, that sharp gaze dissecting you like a poorly written thesis.

Hell, you’d just gotten a lecture from him this weekend about your occasional tardiness. A long, winding rant about responsibility, respect, and professionalism.

Of course, you had your ways of shutting him up.

And judging by the dull ache in your jaw, a not-so-subtle reminder of how you spent that night, you’d say it worked.

Emma finally found a pair of jeans and yanked them on in record time. “He’s going to kill us this time, Y/n. Like, really kill us.”

You shoved your foot into your missing sneaker, pulling the laces tight before yanking your jacket over your shoulders. “I know,” you huffed, gathering your hair into a quick ponytail. “Let’s just get there first. We can worry about the repercussions after.”

Emma muttered something under her breath, but you were already halfway out the door, slamming it shut behind you.

The two of you bolted down the dormitory hallway, sneakers thudding against the tile floor as you wove past half-asleep students shuffling toward their own classes. Your heart pounded, adrenaline spiking as you practically flew down the stairs, Emma panting beside you.

And then—

The lecture hall.

The door loomed just ahead, the final barrier between you and him.

You practically threw the door open, the loud thud of it hitting the stopper announcing your grand—if not completely belated—entrance. The classroom, once a dull hum of quiet note-taking and the occasional shifting of chairs, fell into absolute silence. You could feel Emma right behind you, her breath warm and uneven against your ear as she tried to recover from the mad dash through the halls.

And then, you felt it.

The weight of his stare.

At the front of the class, In-ho stood rigid, a thick book balanced effortlessly in one hand while his glasses teetered precariously on the edge of his nose. His dark eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto you and Emma with an intensity that sent a chill up your spine. The slight twitch of his jaw, the way his fingers flexed against the pages—everything about him screamed pissed.

“We’re fucked,” Emma breathed, voice barely audible.

You hushed her quickly. “Stop it. No, we’re not.”

The corner of his mouth lifted—not in amusement, but in something far more ominous. He glanced at his watch, the movement slow and deliberate, before finally speaking.

“Ladies, thank you for joining us,” he said smoothly, though the sarcasm cut like a knife. “Thirty minutes late, of course.”

You swallowed hard, biting your cheek to keep from wincing.

“Told you,” Emma whispered smugly, just as the class turned in their seats, eyes flicking between the two of you like they were watching a pair of criminals walk to their sentencing.

Clearing your throat, you took a cautious step forward. “...Sorry, Dr. Hwang, we—”

A sharp jab to your back cut you off. Emma.

He didn’t even let you finish. “Your excuses are senseless,” he interrupted, voice cool as he flicked to the next page of his book with an air of complete disinterest. “Sit down.”

And just like that, the room shifted back to normal, the spell of tension broken. You and Emma did as you were told, sliding into your seats as quietly as possible, but the heat of embarrassment still clung to your skin.

In-ho continued his lecture as if nothing had happened.

But you could still feel his eyes lingering.

The lecture dragged on… and on… each passing second stretching into eternity. The words spilling from In-ho's lips became nothing more than a distant murmur, blending into the background like white noise.

But his stare? That, you felt with excruciating clarity.

Even as he spoke, effortlessly commanding the room’s attention, his eyes lingered—sharp, assessing, knowing. Every time you dared glance up, you were met with the same piercing gaze, a silent reminder that your tardiness had not been forgotten. It made it impossible to focus, your mind wandering instead to what repercussions awaited you.

Would he make an example of you in front of the class next time? Deduct points? Or… would he handle it in private?

The thought sent a shudder through you, a slow, creeping warmth unfurling in your stomach. You swallowed hard, ashamed of where your mind was drifting, of the way anticipation coiled inside you. But shame was powerless against the quiet thrill coursing through your veins.

Finally, after what felt like hours, In-ho snapped his book shut.

"Thats all for today. Dismissed."

The scrape of chairs against the floor and the rustle of bags being packed filled the room instantly. Emma wasted no time—she was packed up and out of the lecture hall before you could even blink.

Coward.

You chuckled under your breath, shaking your head as you shut your laptop and slipped it into your bag. Just as you slung the strap over your shoulder, a voice cut through the noise.

“Y/n.”

You froze for half a second before looking up, already knowing who it was.

In-ho stood near the desk, one hand resting on the surface while the other adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. His expression was unreadable, but the weight behind his gaze was heavy.

"A word?"

You exhaled slowly, feigning nonchalance as you stood. Here comes the long, boring lecture.

With measured steps, you made your way down the stairs toward him, the sound of your shoes tapping lightly against the floor. As you reached him, you watched as he leaned back against the desk, his posture deceptively relaxed—but there was nothing relaxed about the way his eyes followed your every movement.

Once the door closed for the final time, leaving the two of you alone, he took his glasses off, placing them beside him.

In-ho exhaled sharply, his tone measured but laced with quiet irritation.

“What did I tell you about lateness?”

You sighed dramatically, crossing your arms as you stepped closer, closing the space between you just enough to test his patience. “I remember, thanks,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “But, in my defense, tequila tends to leave me barely alive. And hey—” you offered a cheeky grin, “—I made it, didn’t I?”

You leaned into humor, hoping to soften the edge of his temper, but his expression didn’t so much as flicker. Instead, he simply shook his head, gaze unwavering.

“You’re supposed to be smart. Professional about your decision-making,” he countered, his voice low and even, the kind that made your skin prickle with awareness.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Right, because your decision-making has a flawless track record.”

That did it.

He pushed off the desk in one smooth motion, closing the remaining distance between you in an instant. Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down, lifting your chin as his presence loomed over you.

Dark eyes locked onto yours, sharp and unrelenting.

“You think this is funny?” His voice had dropped, quieter now, more dangerous.

Your lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“Don’t be so mad, In-ho,” you cooed, the casual use of his name rolling off your tongue like a provocation. You let your fingers drift down, toying absentmindedly with the belt at his pants, feeling the faint rise and fall of him beneath your touch. “It was just a mistake.”

A long pause stretched between you, thick with tension.

“Besides,” you murmured, letting your fingers linger, “I’ve read the textbook.”

The corner of your mouth twitched upward.

Before another word could leave his lips, the sudden creak of the lecture hall door cut through the thick tension, making you jump back instinctively. Your fingers slipped from In-ho’s belt as if burned, and you turned just in time to see Emma poking her head inside, eyes darting between the two of you with knowing amusement.

“Y/n, come on, I’m starving.”

You exhaled a laugh, pressing a hand to your chest as if to steady your racing pulse.

Emma, completely unfazed, leaned further into the doorway. “While I truly love your class, Dr. Hwang,” she drawled, her voice dripping with playful exaggeration, “and I absolutely, without a doubt, blame all of the tardiness on Y/n… I kinda need my best friend now.”

You bit your lip to stifle a grin, throwing her a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated.

Turning back to In-ho, you found his expression illegible, though his jaw had tightened ever so slightly. His eyes, however, still held that same sharp glint, as if the interruption had done little to dissolve the lingering heat between you.

You stepped closer, just enough for your voice to drop to a teasing whisper.

“See you tonight.”

The words left your lips like a promise, like a challenge.

And before he could react, you spun on your heel and took off toward Emma, who was already swinging the door open wider, grinning like she had just walked in on something far more interesting than a scolding.

As you exited the lecture hall, you didn’t need to turn around to know that In-ho was still watching you. You could feel it.

Stepping in line beside Emma, you felt her eyes drilling into the side of your face. She wasn’t just looking at you—she was analyzing you, her expression a mix of suspicion and excitement, like a detective about to crack a scandalous case.

“Okay,” she started, dragging out the word for emphasis. “What the hell was that?”

You blinked at her innocently. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, waving a hand dramatically. “The obvious tension in the room? Your jumpiness? That sexy-yet-annoyed murder look on his face?”

You scoffed, feigning confusion. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That made her stop in her tracks.

You took a few more steps before realizing she wasn’t beside you anymore. When you turned back, Emma stood there, arms crossed, lips parted in realization. Her eyes narrowed.

“Are you fucking him?”

Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t answer—because you couldn’t. Your mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

And that was all she needed.

Emma’s eyes went comically wide before she gasped, closing the gap between you in record time. She grabbed your arm like you were about to sprint away.

“You’re fucking our professor,” she whisper-screamed, barely containing herself.

Panic flared in your chest. “Would you keep it down?” you hissed, grabbing her and dragging the two of you into the nearest bathroom before she could announce your sins to the entire student body.

The door hadn’t even fully shut before she squealed.

“Oh. My. GOD. Y/n. You and—him?”

You clamped a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed. “Yes, yes, okay! But keep your voice down!”

She peeled your hand off her lips, eyes sparkling with wicked delight. “How? When? Who made the first move? How is he in bed? Does he keep the glasses on? He keeps the glasses on, doesn’t he?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I don’t know, it just… happened.”

She gasped again. “Are you mad?” you asked hesitantly.

Her expression twisted in pure offense. “What? No! This is the best thing ever, Y/n.” She grabbed your shoulders and gave you a tiny shake. “How many times have I told you this year to get out of your comfort zone? Loosen up? Have an adventure?” She threw her hands up. “I mean, after all the shit I’ve done, this takes the fucking cake.”

You rolled your eyes. “You cannot tell anyone. Okay?”

Emma gasped, placing a hand on her heart like you’d mortally wounded her. “As if I’d ever! I’d take this to my grave—but you do need to tell me everything.” She grinned. “When do you see him again?”

“Tonight,” you admitted.

Her eyes gleamed.

“Is he mad about us being late?”

You exhaled. “Furious. But he’ll get over it.”

A slow, devious smirk spread across her face. “Ohhhh,” she singsonged, “you’re so gonna get it.”

You smacked her arm. “Emma!"

She just cackled, rubbing her arm. “Oh, this is better than reality TV.”

_________________

You practically had to peel Emma off of you to escape her relentless interrogation.

"Are you on a first-name basis?"

"Can you get him to change my grade to an A?"

"Is he submissive?"

That last question made you choke on your own breath. No, the answer was absolutely no. In-ho was nothing close to submissive. But... could he be?

The thought settled in your mind, uninvited yet intriguing. You shook it off, focusing instead on your plan for the night.

The cold air nipped at your skin as you stepped outside, the weight of your long black coat draping over your body. Underneath? Nothing. Not a single thing to shield you from the chill. The fabric brushed against your bare skin with every step, sending an illicit thrill through you.

You knew In-ho was still mad—of course he was. He wasn’t the type to let things go easily. He’d let his frustration simmer, let it sit heavy between you like an unspoken challenge. But you had no intention of letting him stay mad for long.

You’d make it up to him.

To your professor. Your teacher. Your instructor.

Your lover.

The word still felt surreal, like something plucked from the depths of a forbidden fantasy.

But as you stood in front of his door, heart hammering, hand lifting to knock, the reality of it all settled in your bones.

It took a few moments before you heard the faint sound of footsteps from inside. The door creaked open, revealing In-ho standing there, his posture casual, yet the faint trace of irritation still clouded his eyes. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his hair slightly tousled from the day’s work, but he was still undeniably commanding.

You leaned against the door frame, taking in the sight of him—something about him always pulled you in, even when you knew you shouldn’t be this drawn to him. The air between you both still crackled with the tension from earlier, but you pushed it aside, trying to steady your racing heart.

“I’m sorry, y’know,” you began, the words stumbling slightly as you looked at him. The weight of your apology felt heavier than it should have.

“I shouldn’t be late to your class; it’s… disrespectful,” you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded in acknowledgment, though there was something colder about it than you expected. But then, as if he were trying to shake off the remnants of that coldness, he turned to walk further into the room.

“Come on, I just made dinner,” he said, his voice softer now, like a subtle invitation.

As he moved, the space between you both grew and for a fleeting moment, you thought of turning away, of walking out and letting things settle. But then your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his arm.

The contact felt electric, a spark that ran all the way up your spine. He froze for just a beat, his body tense under your touch, but you didn’t let go. With a gentle but firm push, you made sure the door closed behind you, cutting off any chance of escape.

“Actually,” you started, your voice faltering as your throat tightened with a sudden rush of nerves, “I…I wanted—”

But his gaze was on you now. Those dark, piercing eyes didn’t just glance over you, they devoured you, as if he could see right through you, every thought, every hesitation.

Your breath hitched in your chest.

God, he made you nervous. The kind of nervous that made your pulse race and your mind go blank, but at the same time, made your body feel like it was on fire.

You swallowed hard, trying to get the words out, but the heat in his stare made it harder than ever to focus.

"What is it, pretty?" He asked.

You licked your lips, your throat suddenly dry as you reached to untie your jacket, allowing it to slip from your naked body. The sound of it hitting the floor was muffled as his eyes locked onto your bare chest, sliding down to your torso, your thighs, your legs.

You watched him, watched how is eyes filled with want, with hunger and appetite.

"I wanted to make it up to you," you stepped forward, reaching for his hand, guiding it to one of your breasts, "make up for being late to my instructor's class." You looked up at him with big eyes.

He took another step forward, his presence surrounding you like a heavy fog. His hands settled at your waist, his fingers pressing just enough to send a shiver through your skin. You felt the heat of his touch seep into your flesh, your heart pounding in response.

Without thinking, you pushed yourself onto your tippy toes, the height difference between you making the act feel somehow more intimate. You let your breath brush against his lips, close enough that your noses knocked gently together. It was playful, but it held something more.

“Is my apology accepted?” you asked, your voice teasing but carrying an undertone of vulnerability. The words slipped out before you could second-guess them, and your heart skipped as you waited for his response.

He smiled, slow and knowing. The way his lips curled told you he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you, and the realization made your stomach flutter.

“I forgave you the moment you walked out with your friend,” he replied, his voice low and smooth like silk dragging across your skin.

You raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Then why the lectures about being late?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but the underlying tension in your voice was impossible to ignore.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, something far more intense than the casual gesture let on. “Your habits need to be improved,” he said, his voice dripping with playful disapproval.

You scoffed, leaning in just slightly, teasing him with a small smirk. “So now I need improvement, huh?”

He hummed softly, a sound filled with satisfaction, as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours with the gentlest of caresses. The kiss was unhurried, plotted, as if each movement was meant to make the moment last forever. His lips were velvety and warm, molding against yours in a way that made everything around you fade into the background.

The kiss deepened with richness, pulling you in like the tide—gentle at first, then impossible to resist as it swept you under. You melted into the touch, your breath hitching in your chest as his tongue met yours, a tender exploration that left you breathless. He kissed you as though there was no time, no world beyond the two of you—each moment of closeness felt sacred, like something beautiful and fragile that deserved to be savored.

You responded to him, your mouth parting softly, inviting him in as if there was nowhere else you’d rather be. His tongue moved with such care, each stroke a quiet promise, each movement an unspoken declaration that you were both lost in something deeper than just a kiss.

Your fingers moved with purpose, slowly, but with an unmistakable intent. Each button of his shirt was a soft, deliberate action, your manicured fingers delicately working their way down the fabric. You felt the cool smoothness of the buttons beneath your fingertips, the tension of each one as it gave way to your touch. One by one, you popped them free, the sound of each button sliding out of its hole barely louder than the rush of your heartbeat.

With each button undone, the space between you both seemed to narrow, the anticipation building, the heat between you rising. As your fingers reached the last button, you paused, the fabric now loose enough to fall slightly open, revealing the taut muscles beneath. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric, and you couldn't help but let your hands linger, brushing lightly across the exposed skin as you untucked the hem of his shirt from his pants.

You slowly pulled at the edges of the shirt, watching as the fabric slid free, revealing more of him, inch by inch. The shirt came undone easily, and with a subtle shift, he shrugged it off, the action fluid and effortless.

The fabric slipped from his shoulders, pooling at his feet.

As soon as he was free from the confines of his shirt, you pulled back, your hands gently gliding across his bare skin. You pressed soft, tender kisses along his chest, letting your lips linger against the warmth of his skin. The touch was light, affectionate, like each kiss was a whispered promise you intended to keep.

You let your lips trail upward, finding the curve of his jaw, where you kissed him once more—slow, reverent, savoring the closeness. You traced his jawline, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath beneath your lips. Then, slowly, you moved down to his neck, your teeth grazing gently over the sensitive skin there, just enough to make him shiver, but with care.

The way your lips and teeth moved over him was intentional but tender as if you wanted to show him how much he meant to you with each subtle touch. Your kisses continued downward, over the strong line of his collarbone, your lips barely brushing the surface of his skin.

You felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat as you kissed your way lower to the broad expanse of his chest, where you paused, letting your lips rest for a moment. You couldn’t help but linger there, feeling the warmth of him.

Lowering to your knees, you looked up at In-ho, his eyes already locked onto yours. "You're so beautiful." He stated, making your heart melt as you smiled. Your gaze drifted down, focused on freeing the leather belt from his black pants. Your fingers, as nimble as ever, worked until the belt was loose, hitting the floor a moment later, joining the other pieces of clothing.

Your mouth was watering just at the thought of taking him in your mouth, but before you could reach out to grab the growing bulge beneath his pants, In-ho grabbed your shoulders, pulling you up to your feet.

The frown must have been loud on your face, but it quickly diminished to laughter as In-ho freed himself kicking his pants away and grabbing at your thighs, lifting you with ease. He pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, dragging them to your jaw and neck until he sat the two of you softly down on his couch.

You groaned in disappointment as he hovered above your figure, fitting comfortably between your thighs like a perfect puzzle piece.

"What is it?" He questioned, drawing back to give you some space.

You said nothing as he dragged a palm between your breasts, "tell me, darling."

You took advantage of his settled state.

Sitting up quickly, you wrestled him down, his back resting against the couch, before settling yourself in his lap. A flicker of protest shone in his eyes but it quickly dissipated when you spit in your hand, gripping his cock. That look of objection was now replaced by lust as you pumped him slowly up and down.

With his head now thrown back, you licked at the skin of his neck, "Let me have control tonight, professor." You purred against his skin, earning a groan of approval.

"Fuck, y/n, that feels good," In-ho whined in your ear, making you grin.

You paused, your hand gently moving to his chin, your fingertips lightly grazing the smoothness of his skin. With a soft, yet purposeful pressure, you tilted his head to face you, your gaze locking with his. His eyes were intense, but you could see the vulnerability behind them, a flicker of something deeper that made your heart skip.

"Is that a yes?"

He didn’t immediately answer, his eyes searching yours with a quiet intensity as though weighing the meaning behind the question. The air between you both felt thick with anticipation, each second stretching out longer than the last.

"Yes," he muttered, his voice low and steady, filled with a quiet certainty that sent a rush of warmth through you as his hands released your hips, giving you full authority.

You flashed a sweet grin, kissing him softly.

Lining yourself up, you sunk down onto him, feeling a delicious pressure that persuaded a slow whine to break from both of your chests. After the many nights spent with In-ho, you still hadn't molded to the sheer size of him, and certaintly not at this angle.

Control was In-ho's thing. He relished in fucking you how he liked, taking you at breathtaking angles that you hadn't experienced before, dominating you every. single. time, leaving you with a dull ache in your thighs that you'd have to tolerate during his class the next day. He enjoyed fucking you how he wanted. It was dizzying, intoxicating and always left you wanting more.

You hadn't thought of taking control, you hadn't thought of making In-ho submit to you... someone who was much younger, much less experienced. Of course that had been a topic of conversation every now and then. It was something he worried about, but you reassured him every time that you wanted this..wanted him.

With the swift roll of your hips, you felt every vein he had to offer, every divet, every inch. Gripping his shoulders to ground yourself, you rested your forehead against his, sharing your breaths as you whimpered his name. Leaning into you, In-ho's hand wrapped softly around the back of your head, keeping you in place as you worked the two of you towards the edge. His look was so full of admiration as he whispered..."so young.." he grunted, "so damn pretty."

You pulled from his forehead, throwing your head back in pleasure, sensing his watchful eye, but something else entirely was surfacing within you.

What you once thought was obsession... is slowly turning into love. You can’t ignore it anymore, no matter how much you try. At first, it was easy to convince yourself it was just desire, something stupid—something that would burn out as quickly as it flared up. But now, every time you see him, feel him close, you realize it’s something deeper than you ever imagined.

What was most disappointing was that you knew you wouldn't be able to muster up the courage to tell him..afraid of what he might say or do. Your relationship was complicated enough, and adding an emotion such as love would be enough to send it off the deep end and maybe scare him away.

You felt that familiar coil start to tighten within you as you gripped him harder with every roll of your hips. The air was thick, filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding with one another, and you leaned into him, throwing your face into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your back. "Fuck In-ho I think-"

"I know darling, take what you need." He reassured in your ear, sending you off the edge into your release. Crying out into his skin, In-ho spilled into you moments later, making you squirm from the sweet sensation.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, catching your breaths, coming down from the well needed high. You bit your lip, anxiety creeping up as a thought formed in your mind—something you had to tell him, something you couldn’t keep hidden. Your fingers shook slightly as you pulled back from his shoulder, threading them through his soft, silken hair.

"I need to tell you something," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of it already making your chest tighten.

In-ho’s expression shifted immediately, concern flickering across his face. "But you need to promise me you won’t get mad," you added, the words leaving your mouth before you had a chance to brace for his reaction.

His brow furrowed in that way, you knew, meant he was trying to process what you were about to say, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The fact that needs to be said is worrying me."

You took a steadying breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t avoid it. "Emma knows about us," you confessed, unable to meet his eyes at first.

You felt his body stiffen instantly, the shift in his posture so sharp it felt like a crack in the air. "Emma as in...?" he trailed off, disbelief lacing his voice.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched the change in him, the quiet fury that brewed just beneath the surface. "I know it breaks the terms of our deal, but it technically isn’t my fault. She found out on her own and I denied it, but... she isn’t an idiot..." The words spilled out in a rush, the nerves in your stomach tightening with every syllable.

In-ho’s gaze flickered behind you, his eyes lost in thought, his jaw clenched. You could feel the tension radiating from him, the silence stretching longer than you could bear. Finally, he turned back to you, his grip tightening around your hand as he pulled you closer.

"You know, Y/n," he began, his voice low, tinged with something unreadable, "what it'd mean if the university found out."

The weight of his words hit you like a physical blow. Your throat went dry, the cold reality of what could happen settling in your bones. He would be fired. You’d be dismissed as a student, easily erased from the system, and everything you two worked for could be gone in an instant. The thought made the room feel smaller, the air thicker.

You shook your head, desperation creeping into your voice. "No, In-ho, I know. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone."

He stared at you for a long moment, his gaze searching yours as though looking for something—something he needed to see before he could let go of the fear in his eyes. "Do you trust her?"

The question hung in the air. You didn’t hesitate, placing your palm gently against his cheek, grounding yourself and him in the moment. "With my life," you whispered, your voice steady but full of meaning.

He drew a long, deep breath, pressing his forehead to yours, "alright darling."

_____________________

It was the next day, and you and Emma strolled toward class, the crisp morning air doing little to shake the nerves sitting heavy in your chest. You had spent the entire walk warning her—begging her—to behave, to keep her thoughts to herself, to not say anything that would land you in deep water. But deep down, you knew Emma. You knew she would push buttons, test limits, and make comments that would have you burying your face in your hands before the hour was up.

Sliding into your usual seats at the front row, you pulled out your laptop, glancing at her as she did the same. The moment In-ho walked in, setting his bag down with his usual quiet precision, you could practically feel Emma vibrating in her chair beside you. His glasses came out, resting on the bridge of his nose as he flipped open his textbook, and that was all it took.

A snicker.

You knew exactly what she was thinking. You had barely gotten away from her endless questions last night when you got home—Did the glasses come off in bed? Was he submissive? The moment her laugh slipped out, your elbow jabbed into her ribs, a sharp warning to shut up before she made things worse.

Too late.

In-ho looked up, his gaze sharp as he flicked it in your direction. His eyes briefly settled on you before sliding over to Emma, his expression unreadable but his annoyance palpable.

Slowly, he made his way over, each step measured, calculated. You clenched your jaw, shooting daggers at Emma, who—completely unfazed—grinned as if she hadn’t just signed her own death certificate.

"Y/n," In-ho greeted you first, his tone neutral but laced with the quiet control that always sent shivers down your spine. Then, without breaking stride, he turned his attention to Emma. "Miss Dovin."

His voice was devoid of warmth, so flat it could’ve been mistaken for disinterest if you didn’t know better. You bit the inside of your cheek, praying—begging—for Emma to let it go.

Of course, she didn’t.

Resting her chin in her palm, her eyes sparkled with mischief as she tilted her head. "Dr. Hwang," she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

You swore you saw his jaw tighten.

Emma didn’t stop there. No, that would be too easy.

"How was your night?" she asked sweetly, her lips twitching like she was holding back laughter. Then, as if the implication wasn’t already obvious enough, she casually dragged her fingers up and down the length of her pencil, slow, deliberate, perverted.

You choked on air.

"Emma." you hissed, your face burning with mortification as you smacked her arm, but she barely reacted, still grinning like the absolute menace she was.

In-ho’s nostrils flared.

"Get out of my class, Miss Dovin."

Emma shrugged, entirely unbothered, gathering her things at an agonizingly slow pace. Before leaving, she shot you a look, one so smug it made you want to strangle her. "Tough crowd, huh?" she teased before sauntering off, leaving you to deal with the fallout.

You hesitantly peeked up at In-ho, only to find him already staring at you, eyes opaque and unreadable.

This was not going to be a fun lecture.

TAGLIST: @frontwomann

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #front man x reader #front man #in ho squid game #fanfic #squid game season 2 #the frontman #squid game fanfic #fan fiction #the front man x reader

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cheol-e-kat · 4 months ago

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heyyyyy kat, this bingo card game is so fun!! im always looking forward to your next post. please can i request something from it too? i would like vehicle sex and oral fixation pretty please 🥺

hihiii ofc you can ^^ also that's sweet - i'm glad you like my fics <3 um i am maybe a little stuck on mingyu x noona but hope this is fun and sorry it took a few days for me to figure this one out

♡ kat

bingo square: vehicle sex + oral fixation

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader | mingyu x noona reader

summary: y/n was heading back to her apartment when mingyu offered her a ride - she didn’t realize her least focused student could actually be fully engrossed with a single activity

genre: college au, collegestudent!mingyu, teachassistant!reader

word count: 1.8k

rating: 18+, mdni

warnings: below cut

explicit language, smut, age gap, car sex, topping from bottom, penetrative sex, finger sucking, nipple play

she had packed up after another class where maybe a quarter of the students actually paid attention to her - just because she was the ta, which was annoying. she was the one who graded all of their horrendous papers. and then there was maybe her most annoying student, kim mingyu - she rolled her eyes, just thinking about him.

when she walked around the class for the last few weeks, she had noticed that he was literally watching march madness coverage and completely ignoring her lectures. she had gotten annoyed this evening and used her laser pointer on his screen. and just because that didn’t seem to phase him, she had called him out. she grinned as she replayed it in her mind - his half-stuttering bullshit answer that she meticously corrected. she had seen the way he stared daggers at her the rest of the session. but she didn’t care, as long as he maybe paid attention - that was the point.

she walked through the quiet halls and could finally breathe when she exited the building, feeling the cool night air - she caught the sharp scent of ozone, and knew it was going to rain. she groaned, realizing she hadn’t brought her umbrella. she made it just outside of the building when she felt the first few ominous drops. she sighed and pulled the collar of her jacket up closer - she would get soaked, but it could be worse.

she didn’t initially notice the black car next to her. she was concerned with getting home, not some person who was lost on campus.

“y/n?”

she paused, glancing over to the car. the driver had rolled down the window closest to her - she leaned down and tried to control her face as she saw none other than kim mingyu leaning towards the open window, looking at her with a smirk. she rolled her eyes, “come to my office hours if you have an issue, mingyu,” she kept walking.

but he stayed next to her, “you know it’s starting to rain, right?”

“and?”

“do you want a ride?” his voice was too sweet for her liking, especially since she had pointedly embarrassed him maybe 45 minutes before.

she shook her head, “no, thanks - have a nice night,” she tried to sound cordial and nothing more.

“come on, y/n, it’s not a big deal - even if you called me out in class,” he almost whispered the last part.

she tried to smile, “i shouldn’t take rides from students,” she mumbled.

he grinned, “you’re not the professor, y/n, even if you basically do his job for him.”

she could feel rain drops hitting her more persistently - she groaned, “okay, fuck, fine.” she got into his ridiculously nice car and immediately wondered if he were a trust fund kid.

“so where am i taking you?” he asked softly.

she didn’t love the idea of him knowing where she lived, but she gave him her address - well close to her address - it was her friend’s place a few houses down from her own. if anyone egged her friend’s house, she would have a top suspect, she thought wryly.

she leaned on the arm rest, trying to make it clear that she didn’t want to spend anymore time in his car than was necessary. the problem was when she felt his hand brush her thigh, and she practically jumped.

“sorry,” he mumbled. she might have believed him if he hadn’t looked so smug about it.

she pursed her lips, “you know, if you bothered to pay attention in class, i wouldn’t have called on you - so if you’re annoyed about something”—

he cut her off, “why would i be annoyed? i wanted your attention, and i got it,” he smiled.

she flushed, not knowing what to say.

“you could just say you aren’t interested - i’m in your class, blah, blah, blah,” he offered, his voice low and silky.

she stared out the window not wanting to think about the fact that he was a student - a junior student to her, but just another student for all intents and purposes. like he had said, she wasn’t the professor.

when he touched her thigh again, she barely noticed until he squeezed her thigh while they waited at a stop light.

she glanced at him, “so what do you want? what do you think is happening right now exactly?”

he glanced at her for a moment, “i’m thinking how much i want to know if you’re wearing a bra today or not.” he said it so smoothly - she looked at him, taking in his profile as he watched the road. she wasn’t unaware of the way some students looked at her. she hadn’t pegged him as one of ‘those’ students.

she felt his hand slide closer to her groin. she should probably stop him, but in all fairness, she liked how his hand looked on her thigh. she liked that he had thicker fingers - she liked that he had the hands of a man - there was nothing dainty about his fingers. she wondered how they would feel stretching her pussy.

when they got to her friend’s address, she sighed, “it’s actually further down,” she pointed.

he laughed softly, “ah - so you were going to hide in the bushes?”

she rolled her eyes, “no, it’s my friend’s place, and i have a spare key,” she responded tartly - as though she would hunker down in the bushes.

he was already pulling into her driveway. it was darker than her friend’s - there was more tree cover from heavy oaks on both sides.

she didn’t touch the door handle. she was patient, wondering what little fantasy was playing in his mind.

when he shifted in his seat, “come here,” he whispered.

she glanced over, seeing the room between him and the steering wheel. it felt distinctly high school. but she wasn’t above that. she shifted to straddle him. he was fast to shove her jacket out of the way, and even faster to shover her thin sweater up to expose her tits to the cooler air of the car.

she wasn’t prepared for the way he moaned at seeing her, “fuck,” he muttered, “look at you, baby,” he whispered.

his hands slid over her breasts roughly, squeezing them while he moaned softly.

“so now you know - no bra,” she whispered, leaning down so her lips were just next to his ear. She leaned back, letting him have the view he wanted so badly.

he nodded, swallowing hard, as his fingers traced over her nipples - she knew why his eyes suddenly flashed to hers.

“serioulsy,” he whispered before he was suddenly leaning into her and sucking softly at her breast.

she knew what he had felt, the little tiny piercings she had - she could feel his tongue playing with the tiny metal barbell - she moaned softly, her fingers pulling his short hair gently, loving how warm his mouth was. she moaned when he sucked harder, his tongue alternating between making little circles around her nipple and playing with her piercing.

it felt like ages before he pulled away from her left breast, groaning, “how the fuck are you single?” he breathed.

she laughed, “it’s not like they’re not magic.”

he shook his head, leaning in to kiss her right breast, “yes, they are,” he whispered against her skin, licking and sucking the nipple he had been neglecting. she felt him pull her hips closer to his. she gulped when she felt how hard he was.

she bit back a moan when she felt the rough way he was sucking at her skin - she knew he would leave marks. she had the feeling that that was exactly his goal. she found herself pushing him back, pressing her fingers between his lips instead. she blushed watching the way he sucked on her fingers - it was when she made him gag and he didn’t seem to care that she knew she was too far down the path not to fuck him.

he whimpered when she pulled her fingers away, “want to fuck, baby boy, not just tease each other,” she breathed as leaned over him, her fingers tracing along his cheek. he stared at her, already looking dazed.

she rolled her hips against him - he moaned softly. she smiled, “do you even want to move?”

he swallowed, “why? i like this view,” he murmured.

“you just want someone else to do the work for you,” she didn’t care that her voice had sharpened.

he shook his head, “promise i can fuck you from exactly where i am.”

she grinned, “mhmm, i’m sure.”

she wasn’t sure how either really managed to get out of their pants, but she knew she was slick enough to take his cock without prepping. and the slide was absolutely worth it - she arched back against the steering wheel, moaning, not sure that she had ever been stretched so well as she was in that single moment.

she heard him, “such a good girl, taking all of me like that,” he whispered, kissing her throat.

and then he shifted her just right so he could fuck up into her. his cock hit every spot she needed him to, and the way he held her hips so tightly - she knew there would be bruises the next day. she let her hands slide under his shirt, feeling his toned stomach, and the way his muscles flexed as he moved his hips. her head lolled to the side - he really was good. so good. she knew she left thin, angry scratch marks across his stomach - she knew he was pulling moan after moan from her.

but it was when he came that she yelped softly, she was already stretched completely and now he was fucking her full of his cum and stroking her clit. apparently, he wouldn’t be satisfied until she came too.

she quivered from the attention, whining softly, saying his name over and over, and then her orgasm hit her - washing over her like a wave - her eyelids fluttered closed as she felt her body reacting to his. she was shaking, leaning into him, knowing she had come undone for him.

she felt his hands tracing over her skin, like he was keeping her from floating away. when he tipped her chin back to kiss her, it was surprising to her - how gentle he was.

it was maybe less surprising that she woke up late the next morning with him in her bed - their limbs tangled after they had spent half the night fucking like animals.

when she tried to get up, he only pulled her back, “stay with me,” he whispered. he was much more beguiling than she wanted to admit, but she still stayed, happily wrapped in his arms.

a/n: again, trying to force myself to write a drabble and not go over 1k words skssksksss so 1.8k is perf right?? T-T

♡ kat

bingo reqs master list

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @starlit-rin ☁︎ @gigglensnort ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite ☁︎

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

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sonnyaavce · 1 year ago

Text

CHAPTER # 0

"Is it still following us?" whispered Wally over to Artemis as they amble deeper into the dark and ominous facility.

"Yeah, it's still behind us trying to be sneaky" snorted playfully Artemis as she glanced behind her to see the small mirage of a kid following them, said kid was actually just floating slightly off the floor and walls, peering at them with curiosity and caution. But to Artemis, she knew that usually spirits weren't as scared towards people like it was; she had met Secret before and hadn’t been scared at all towards them, but she feels this one is different... he’s way different from Secret...

'Do you think he's a stuck spirit like Secret?' she pondered into the telepathy link to the rest to the team; Zatanna who was near the front nodded, not looking back at them 'he does feels different from Secret tho, but he feels more like an astral projection to me'

'What does that word mean, the astral projection thing?' Megan inquired curiously at the same time she looked over Robin who was near front, checking some blueprints into his hologram wristband not looking where he was walking but still leading the group without tripping on anything, 'Isn't it the same for all ghosts?'

Zatanna shook her head as she walks closer to the martian 'not all ghosts are form the same way; some are form after resentments, some form after experiencing strong emotions' she lectures them as she automatically lights up a spell to brighten the hallway a bit better ‘astral are humans with the ability to move his soul out of his body at will’

‘That means there’s still an unknown child’s body lying around here?’ Kaldur said bitterly as he lighted his marks unknowingly, infuriated at the prospect of an innocent still trapped in here ‘Megan can you pinpoint his location or maybe connect to his body indirectly?��

‘I can give a try-’ A sudden screeching sound cut out the mind link abruptly, making the team stagger in place, Connor grunted annoyed as he grabbed his head in pain ‘who caused this interference just now?!’

"not that way" whispered the small sprite, who was now in the front of the group, his voice sounded as if was glitched “follow” fading sigly in front of them, the team looked at each other before nodding and following the astral as it reappeared a couple of meters down one of the hallways down a flight of stairs “down there”

“Is your body still down there?” Kaldur said softly to the mirage, the child nodded “Robin what do you read, is something down there?”

“there are some empty rooms already the league checked-” “is down there” interrupted the child “hidden… find the room”

-TBC-

masterpost

#baby danny #justice league #dpxdc #dp x dc writing prompt #danny phantom #lies of p #i did a thing #i did this instead of working #oh god i have issues

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sparklystarrrr · 1 month ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a little thing where Jade is talking with reader then something comes flying over (maybe from the disaster duo or spelldrive) and she is just knocked the fuck out.

Bonk!

Synopsis: You get knocked out by a fucking broomstick.

Contains: Jade L. x Fem! Reader, straight crack (anon this made me cackle idek what im writing), romantic/platonic, Jade being his nerdy self, some cursing

Gym was grueling. I had zero idea how to fly a broomstick so participating in that was basically a no go. I had no magic so a broomstick wouldn’t just start flying whenever I tried. It was kinda disappointing I couldn’t use magic, but I guess that’s what happens when you get thrown into a world with magic, right?

Luckily in gym though while I was boiling out in the sun, I had close friends to keep me company. Even more lucky, I had Jade with me, and he was a bit wearing of flying a broomstick like all the other Octavinelle students. He was always a joy to be around! He jogged towards me as the class had begun,”(y/n)! I see you’re standing idly by. Would it be alright for me to join you?” He smiled softly.

“Yeah of course!” It was almost calming talking to Jade. Sure he was super ominous and lowkey scary sometimes, but off the Mostro Lounge job he was just kinda… normal? Well, not completely normal, he was still spooky and mysterious. But he would dabble in his hobbies more. Almost every time we found each other in conversation he’d report about his new mushroom findings. Today was like no other.

“There is a new poisonous fungus I must inform you about. Trichoderma cornu-damae, also known as the poisonous fire coral. As the name entails, it has a similar appearance to bright orange coral found in the Coral Sea. Quite interesting!” He said with delight absolutely radiating off him. It was sorta spooky how he had such an interest for the deadly mushrooms roaming around the wonderland. I wonder… does he use those on misbehaving students during contract signing? ‘Scary’… I shuddered at the thought. I noticed all the students flying overhead in the sky. I giggled to myself at the Heartslabyul freshman who was absolutely out of control on his broomstick. He looked kinda familiar though… Blue hair and everything…

“It is part of the—“ BONK

“Ack!—“Oh great. Right at my head. The rickety Heartslabyul student flew straight into my head.

The student, now identified as Deuce, straight up panicked while I laid on the grass, completely out. “AGH FUCK I HIT HER!!! Holy shit what do I do oh my sevens oh my sevens oh my sevensss……” Jade was flabbergasted. He was quietly shocked while picking me up slowly. His hands were under my arms while he laid me over his shoulder. “I’ll have (y/n) go to the nurse. We should get her there quickly.” He said to Deuce.

Poor freshie was still shaking in his boots from the aftershock of literally hitting his best friend and knocking her out. “Y-yeah yeah okay… I’ll go tell Coach Vargas.” With that, he practically sprinted off to Vargas to inform him of what happened, hoping and praying he wouldn’t get kicked out of NRC for this.

Luckily for me, Jade has scarily long legs. His speed walking ability was impressive. He bolted straight over to get me the treatment for whatever the heck just happened. Hopefully I wouldn’t be concussed… hopefully.

After what was most likely a few hours, I groggily woke up with a bandage wrapped around my head and Jade sitting silently next to me. I slowly sat up, a sudden headache pounding against my skull, “Ugh…” “Oh my, you’re up!” He spoke pleasantly, clearly shocked. “What the heck happened…?”

He sighed,”Well, young Deuce Spade hit you with his broomstick. Currently, he is being scolded by Housewarden Rosehearts for his lack of broomstick flying safety education. Apparently, he had been skipping class with Ace Trappola and missed plenty of lectures for quite some time.” Oh yeah, that definitely sounded like something those two would do… I don’t doubt Jade was telling the truth. “Yup, that definitely sounds like the truth..” I giggled. Jade smiled back at me.

Then, a sudden bright glint his heterochromic eyes. “Now where was I, ah yes. The Trichoderma cornu-damae is part of the Hypocreaceae family which means-“ Oh yeah, he was no where near done with his fungus talk. I don’t mind it though. I could never mind it<3

I GOT PAPA CREWEL’S SSR CARD TODAYYY

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #octavinelle #jade #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech

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winxanity-ii · 9 months ago

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Hello, I'm not sure if the requests are open, so please forgive me! After reading your Gojo x Fem reader FIC "Gamer Gojo," awakened something in me. I wanted to see if I could request a gamer Gojo x Fem reader story, where the reader is really needy after watching Gojo play!😫or something like that feel free to reject this request if you don’t or feel uncomfortable. Thanks!

thanks for requesting and i hope i do your vision justice, forewarning, i might have made gojo a little mean 😩❤️

GAME OVER

ship: gamer boyfriend!gojo x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v ; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 9.9k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀)

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You unlocked the front door and stepped into the apartment, the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla greeting you like a warm hug.

Kicking off your shoes by the door, you slung your bag over the back of the dining chair and made your way to the living room.

Gojo Satoru was exactly where you'd expected him to be: sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV screen, fingers moving furiously over the controller. His headset was pushed back slightly, his white hair tousled in that effortlessly messy way he always wore it.

"Hey, babe," you called out as you passed by, heading to your shared bedroom.

"Mm, hey baby," he replied absently, his focus never straying from the game. His voice was a low hum, almost drowned out by the sound of in-game battle cries and epic orchestral music.

You couldn't help but smile; it was almost cute how engrossed he could get.

You dropped your bag on the floor and slipped into your comfier clothes—a soft oversized sweatshirt and your favorite pair of pajama shorts. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, wiping your face before heading back to the living room.

As you walked over to the couch, you noticed your little corner already set up: your pillow propped against the armrest, your blanket folded neatly and waiting for you.

Satoru might be lost in his digital world, but he never failed to make sure you had a cozy spot right beside him.

You plopped down next to him, the cushion dipping slightly under your weight. Leaning over, you placed a kiss on his cheek, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

Even though he was in the middle of a heated battle, he instinctively tilted his head towards you, almost like muscle memory, seeking out your touch.

"How was school?" he mumbled, his eyes still glued to the screen, fingers dancing across the controller with a practiced ease. You settled into your spot, draping the blanket over your lap and fluffing up your pillow.

"Same as always," you sighed, glancing at the TV. "Boring PowerPoints, boring lectures, boring discussion boards."

He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb rapidly tapping the attack button as he took down another cursed creature. "Sounds thrilling."

"What are you playing?" you asked, watching the screen as a dark, mythical landscape unfolded before you.

The game looked familiar—vivid bursts of cursed energy flashed as Satoru's character, a powerful sorcerer, slashed through hordes of enemies. It was the same one you'd seen him playing this morning before you left for class, though the setting now looked far more ominous, like he'd entered some cursed realm.

"It's Sorcerer's Domain: Curse Slayer," he said, his voice dropping as he concentrated, his character weaving through a series of devastating attacks from a towering boss. "A new MMORPG. The graphics are wild, right?"

You watched his hands as he played, fascinated by the speed and precision of his movements. His fingers moved deftly over the controller, each button press deliberate and fluid. The veins on his hands stood out slightly, muscles flexing with each motion as he navigated through the game with a kind of graceful intensity that made it hard to look away.

"Yeah, I mean, look at the detail on that cursed spirit," you mused, squinting at the screen as his character launched a spell that sent a wave of blue energy crashing into the boss.

It staggered, its grotesque form crackling with cursed energy before retaliating with a devastating attack. Satoru dodged it effortlessly, his thumbs moving in perfect synchrony with the game's frantic pace.

"Just playing with some friends," he murmured, his focus never wavering. "We're almost at the final boss level. Shouldn't take long."

You knew what that meant. Whenever Satoru got like this, it was best to let him ride it out. He was hyper-focused, chasing that rush of victory that came with beating a tough boss or clearing a particularly challenging quest.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it, then," you said, patting his knee gently. He hummed in acknowledgment, already diving back into his virtual world.

You reached for your phone and opened up your socials, scrolling through the latest posts and updates.

Time had slipped away, as it always did when Satoru got absorbed in one of his games.

It's been five hours since you'd come home, and he was still glued to the TV, headset on, fingers moving in a blur over the controller.

You'd spent the first hour scrolling through your socials, hoping he'd wrap up soon, but it quickly became apparent that he was in for the long haul.

Sighing, you put your phone down and got up from the couch, stretching the stiffness from your legs. "Might as well get some work done," you muttered to yourself, shooting a glance at Satoru. He was muttering something under his breath, the focused crease between his brows telling you he was neck-deep in whatever dungeon or boss battle he was facing.

You headed up to grab your things, pulling out your textbooks and laptop. It didn't take you long to finish up the few assignments you had left, the work more tedious than difficult. By the time you closed your laptop with a satisfied sigh, another hour had passed.

You looked over at Satoru, half-expecting to find him wrapping things up.

Nope. Still at it.

Shaking your head, you decided to be productive in other ways. You tidied up the living room, folding the blankets and fluffing the pillows. Then, you made your way to the kitchen to tackle the few dishes that had piled up in the sink. The warm water and soapy bubbles helped distract you from the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. You knew he got lost in his games, but this was getting ridiculous.

Once the dishes were clean and drying on the rack, you even managed to carve out some time to catch up on your favorite stories, scrolling through the latest updates from the authors you followed religiously.

It wasn't until your stomach growled that you realized how much time had passed. You glanced at the clock—7:00 p.m. Satoru had been at it since you'd come home, and it didn't seem like he was planning to stop anytime soon.

With an exasperated sigh, you trudged downstairs, your patience wearing thin. You found him in the same spot, the blue glow of the screen reflecting off his glasses as he barked a command into his headset, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Hey," you called out, but he didn't respond.

Typical.

You tried again, louder this time. "Hey, babe."

He glanced at you, barely registering your presence before turning back to the game. "Yeah, babe?"

"What do you want to eat? I'm starving."

"Uh, give me a sec." He leaned forward, fingers flying over the controller as he dodged and attacked, his character on screen spinning through a flurry of spells and sword slashes. "Almost done here."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You've been 'almost done' for hours."

"Just a few more minutes, promise," he mumbled, not really paying attention.

You sucked your teeth, feeling the annoyance bubble up again. "Fine, I'm just gonna order Chinese. You want anything?"

"Yeah, sure," he said absently, completely lost in his game again.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone, scrolling through your saved takeout places. You placed an order for your usual dishes and added a few extras for Satoru, hoping that by the time it arrived, he'd be ready to eat.

Spoiler alert: he wasn't.

When the doorbell rang, you jogged downstairs to grab the food. You placed the bags on the counter and called out to him. "Food's here!"

"Okay, just put mine in the microwave, I'm almost done!" he shouted back, his voice muffled by the headset.

Your jaw clenched, the irritation rising again. You were hungry, tired, and honestly fed up with the damn game. But you did as he asked, placing his portion in the microwave before grabbing your own food and heading back upstairs.

You sat on the edge of the bed, chopsticks in hand as you picked at your lo mein. Every now and then, you could hear him shouting at the screen downstairs, his voice filled with excitement or frustration.

You scowled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with unnecessary force.

It wasn't like you weren't used to this. Satoru's gaming marathons were a known habit, something you'd learned to live with. But tonight, it just grated on your nerves.

Maybe it was the long day at school, or the fact that you hadn't really had a moment to spend together since you'd come home.

Whatever it was, you found yourself glaring at the staircase, silently cursing the game that had stolen your boyfriend away for the entire day.

When you finally finished eating, you trudged back downstairs, only to find Satoru still engrossed in his game, the food you'd microwaved for him untouched.

You sighed, putting his plate in the fridge and wiping your hands on a dish towel.

Now, you were seated in your little spot on the couch, legs tucked under you as you pouted at your boyfriend's side profile. Satoru was still fully engrossed in his game, his brows furrowed in concentration as he battled yet another wave of cursed spirits.

You'd been trying to get his attention for a while now��first by poking his arm, then by leaning into his side with an exaggerated sigh. You even went so far as to pull at his sleeve like a child, your lower lip jutting out as you peered up at him.

But all he did was shoot you a distracted glance, a quick "Not now, babe," before refocusing on the screen.

You huffed, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest. Satoru was usually so playful, always quick to tease or scoop you up in his arms, no matter what he was doing.

But tonight, it seemed like the game had taken complete hold of him.

"Come on, that was bullshit!" he suddenly shouted at the screen, his fingers clenching the controller as his character took a heavy hit. "Seriously? Who designed this wack-ass boss fight?"

You watched as he leaned forward, his frustration bubbling over as he frantically dodged and countered, cursing under his breath as he tried to regain the upper hand.

There was something almost endearing about how seriously he took his games, but right now, you were far more interested in getting his attention than watching him rage at virtual monsters.

"What the hell! Get out of the AoE, you absolute trash-fucker!" he barked into his mic, and you couldn't help but snicker at the ridiculousness of it all.

Even when he was annoyed, he was still so damn dramatic.

You waited a few more minutes, hoping he'd wrap up soon. But when he let out a triumphant cheer, pumping his fist in the air as his character finally landed the finishing blow, you knew you'd have to take matters into your own hands.

Without warning, you shifted closer, throwing yourself into his lap. Satoru jolted slightly, but his eyes never left the screen, his hands still firmly gripping the controller.

You straddled him loosely, your arms sliding around his waist as you pressed your face into his chest, just under his chin. His body was warm against yours, and you could feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat through his shirt.

You curled up a bit more, pressing yourself closer as you mumbled his name.

"'Toru…"

Nothing. No response.

His eyes were glued to the TV, his fingers still working the controls as he maneuvered through another enemy onslaught.

"'Toruuuuu…" you whined again, this time louder, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. You tilted your head slightly, sneaking a glance up at him, but he didn't even look down.

You let out a huff, your frustration mirroring his earlier outburst. You wiggled in his lap, hoping to at least distract him enough to get a reaction. But he merely shifted his weight, adjusting his position to keep you balanced without losing focus.

"...Almost there..." he muttered, his voice low and strained with concentration.

You let out another whine, your breath warm against his chest as you nuzzled closer, your hands clutching at his sides. "Baby, I'm bored."

Still nothing.

You sighed dramatically, tightening your hold on him as you turned your face into his chest, your nose brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and that clean, comforting scent that was uniquely his.

Another few minutes passed, filled with the sounds of Satoru’s character slicing through enemies and his occasional muttered curses.

Every now and then, he'd let out a triumphant shout or a frustrated groan, his fingers never stopping their rapid dance over the controller.

You could feel his muscles tensing and relaxing under your hands, his focus razor-sharp. He was clearly in the zone, but that only made you more determined to break through his defenses.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head just enough to peek at his face. His jaw was set, his lips pressed into a thin line as he concentrated on the screen.

The faint glow of the TV reflected in his eyes, and you couldn't help but admire the way his lashes cast delicate shadows over his cheeks.

But admiration wasn't enough right now. You needed his attention.

"'Toru..." you whispered again, your voice softer this time, almost a plea. You nuzzled your face against his chest, your lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt as you squeezed his waist gently.

For a split second, you thought he might finally look at you. His fingers paused, his body stilling under yours. But then, he shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake off a distraction.

"Just a few more minutes, baby," he murmured, his voice distant, already slipping back into the game.

You groaned in exasperation, your forehead pressing against his chest as you let out a muffled scream. You knew he could be stubborn, but this was a new level of obsession.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, curled up in his lap, your face buried against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was soothing, the steady beat of his heart a reminder that, no matter how annoying he could be, he was still yours.

But that didn't mean you were going to let him off the hook that easily.

You pouted harder, leaning back to stare up at his face. Satoru's height always made moments like this a little ridiculous—he barely had to move, just a slight tilt of his head, and he was able to see right over yours, his eyes still glued to the screen.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers curling around the fabric as you whined his name again, dragging it out like a petulant child.

"Satoru…"

He only hummed in response, the sound low and absent-minded as he continued to play, his attention still fully on the game.

A small breath of frustration escaped you, and this time, you decided to take more direct action. You reached up and grabbed his chin, your fingers pressing gently into the slight stubble that had started to grow there.

You pulled his face down, forcing him to look at you. His eyes, an intense shade of blue, almost too bright, blinked in surprise as if he were just now remembering you were there.

Up close, you could see every detail of his features—the way his hair fell messily over his forehead, still somehow perfect despite hours of being neglected. His lashes were long, almost absurdly so, casting soft shadows over the tops of his cheeks. And that slight stubble against your fingers felt both rough and familiar, a reminder of all the times you'd traced your hand over his jaw like this.

His eyes, usually sharp and playful, softened as he looked down at you. They were the color of the clearest sky, the kind of blue that held a thousand different shades, each one shifting and changing with his mood.

Right now, they were gentle, full of a warmth that made your heart stutter in your chest. You could see the flecks of lighter blue near the center, the darker ring around the edges.

It was like looking into the endless depths of the ocean, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you were mad.

He blinked again, his lips curling into that familiar, handsome smile that made you melt every time. The kind of smile that had gotten him out of trouble more times than you could count, the one that said he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.

"Hey there, stranger," he murmured, his voice soft, almost teasing as his eyes roamed over your face.

Before you could respond, before you could get lost in that look he was giving you, something seemed to click in his mind. His eyes widened, the lazy smile dropping as he quickly remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh shit!" he yelped, his head snapping back up to the screen. "No, no, no—damn it!"

You could hear faint shouts from his headset, his teammates clearly panicking as whatever battle they were in started going south. Satoru's face was set in a small grimace now, his brows knitting together as he tried to salvage the situation.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered into the mic, his fingers moving rapidly over the controller again. "I got distracted. My bad, my bad—just focus on the healer, I'll tank this."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his sudden shift in demeanor, his earlier softness replaced with that determined focus you’d seen so many times before.

It was almost comical really, the way he could switch from doting boyfriend to intense gamer in the blink of an eye.

Still, you kept your grip on his shirt, refusing to let him off that easily. You watched as his jaw clenched, the muscles tensing under your fingers as he concentrated on the game. His eyes were narrowed now, the playfulness gone as he leaned forward, his whole body taut with focus.

"Damn it, Gojo!" one of his teammates shouted through the headset, the voice tinny and frustrated. "You almost cost us that round!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Satoru replied, his voice still a bit strained as he navigated his character through another onslaught of attacks. "I'll make it up to you guys. Just give me a sec."

Satoru tried to juggle his focus, his eyes darting between the TV screen and your face. He muttered a string of apologies, his voice laced with a mixture of guilt and distraction. "I'm sorry, babe, really. Just—just try not to do that, okay? I'll be done soon, I promise."

He attempted a quick smile, but his gaze kept flickering back to the game, his fingers never slowing as he guided his character through another barrage of attacks.

It was clear he was torn, wanting to give you his attention but still too wrapped up in the game to fully pull himself away.

Your patience, already stretched thin, finally snapped. You sucked your teeth, the sound sharp and frustrated, and pushed yourself off his lap. "Ugh, I'm just gonna wait upstairs until you're done."

You turned to leave, annoyance radiating off you in waves as you took a step away from the couch. But before you could get far, Satoru's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

"Babe, babe, babe, wait!" he pleaded, his voice rushed, almost panicked. He tugged you back a step, his grip loose but insistent. "I'm sorry, really, I am."

Even then, he kept bouncing his attention between you and the screen, his character taking a few hits as he fumbled with the controller. He glanced back at the game, his jaw clenching as he barely managed to block an incoming attack. "I'll be done in a second, okay? Just—please don't go."

You crossed your arms over your chest, your glare piercing as you looked down at him. "You've been saying that for hours, Satoru."

"I know, I know." He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He looked back at the screen, his fingers moving in a blur as he navigated through another complex series of moves, and then back at you, his eyes soft with regret. "Just give me like, ten more minutes. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

You could hear the faint shouts of his teammates through the headset, their voices filled with frustration and urgency as they tried to coordinate. "Gojo, seriously! Pay attention!"

"Crap, I know, I know!" Satoru shot back, his hand still holding your wrist as his gaze flickered between you and the screen. His face was set in a small grimace, the strain of trying to balance his attention clear in the tense line of his jaw, the tightness around his eyes.

You let out a heavy sigh. You knew he was trying, but it didn't make it any less frustrating.

You didn't want to be that type of girlfriend, the one who pouted and sulked because her boyfriend was enjoying his hobby. But right now, it felt like you were competing with the game for his attention, and you were losing.

You stood at the foot of the couch, still stewing in your frustration, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

You could feel Satoru's gaze on you, the weight of his eyes as he turned his head away from the screen, his fingers still working the controller almost on autopilot.

"Babe, I swear I'm almost done," he said again, his voice softer this time, a hint of desperation threading through his words. His lips were slightly parted, a pout forming as he looked up at you with those damn blue eyes of his—eyes that were usually so bright and playful but now seemed almost pleading, like he was afraid you'd slip away for real this time.

It was unfair how beautiful he looked, even now, disheveled and slightly sweaty from hours of gaming. His white hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction from where he’d run his fingers through it in frustration. His cheeks were a little flushed, the result of his excitement and annoyance blending together in that way only Satoru could manage.

And those eyes... Gods, those eyes. They were so impossibly blue, like the sky on a perfect summer day, framed by lashes that were almost too long for a guy, making him look absurdly beautiful even in his current state.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours as he bit down on his lower lip, a small, almost childlike gesture that made your heart clench. "Please?" he added, his voice almost a whisper now, the sound of it tugging at the frayed edges of your resolve.

You huffed, the annoyance still there, but you could feel it softening under the weight of his gaze. He always did this, made it so damn hard to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that—like you were the most important thing in the world, even when he was being an absolute pain.

"Fine," you muttered, your voice begrudging as you took a step back toward him. "But this better be the last time you ignore me for some stupid game."

His eyes brightened instantly, a smile breaking across his face, wide and brilliant, as if you’d just given him the best news in the world. He shifted the controller to one hand and reached out with the other, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he gently tugged you back onto the couch.

"Thank you, thank you," he murmured, pulling you down onto his lap with an ease that made your heart flutter. He was always so strong, so effortlessly sure of himself, and the way he handled you made you feel delicate, cherished. His lips pressed against your temple, the kiss light and fleeting as he murmured another apology. "I'm really sorry, baby. You know I can't help it sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled, the words half-hearted as you settled against him, your arms slipping around his neck as you straddled his lap once again.

He kissed your cheek, then your forehead, his lips soft and warm as they trailed along your skin. "I'll make it up to you, promise," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear before he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You let out a small hum, your fingers toying with the flyaway hairs at the nape of his neck, the silky strands slipping through your grasp as you absently played with them.

You could feel his muscles shifting under your touch, the way his shoulders tensed and relaxed with every movement, every reaction to the game. His jaw clenched when something went wrong, a soft growl rumbling low in his chest, the sound vibrating through you as you pressed closer.

Your hands slid up from his neck, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble as you leaned into him. He tilted his head slightly, giving you more access as he murmured something under his breath, his lips brushing against your hairline.

You sighed, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you snuggled into the crook of his neck.

From this position, you could hear every faint growl of frustration, feel the way his chest rumbled with each word he muttered. His arms were wrapped around you, one hand still holding the controller while the other rested on your lower back, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your skin.

It was almost mesmerizing, the way his body moved beneath yours, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with every motion.

You could feel the power in him, the strength in his arms as they tightened around you, the way his thighs shifted under yours as he adjusted his position, trying to balance you and the game at the same time.

"Come on, just a little more," he muttered, his voice low and intense, his fingers flying over the controller.

You could see the concentration on his face, the way his brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes were focused, but every now and then, he'd glance down at you, his expression softening, his grip on you tightening just a bit, as if he needed to reassure himself that you were still there.

And you were—content for the moment, just resting against him, letting his warmth seep into you.

Your fingers slid back up to his hair, threading through the soft strands as you tugged gently, feeling the way his breath hitched in response.

You pressed your nose against his neck, breathing him in, the familiar scent of him making your heart flutter in your chest.

He let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes flicking down to you for a brief second, his smile a little strained but still undeniably sweet. "You okay, princess?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your fingers still playing with his hair, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you sighed softly. "Yeah, I'm okay."

And you were, even though you knew you'd be annoyed with him again later.

For now, you were content, wrapped up in him, feeling every rise and fall of his chest, every shiver that ran through him as you pressed closer, your face buried in the warmth of his neck.

The longer you stayed nestled in Satoru's lap, the more you became acutely aware of every little detail about him. The way his body seemed to mold against yours, the steady warmth radiating from his skin, and the soft hum of his breath against your ear.

The initial frustration that had simmered earlier was still there, but it had shifted, morphing into something else entirely as you tried to get comfortable, wiggling a bit in his lap.

Your legs tightened around his hips, and you couldn't help but notice how good it felt, the friction sending a small, involuntary shiver up your spine.

You tried to focus on something else—anything else—but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the growing warmth spreading through your body, the way your skin seemed to tingle wherever it touched his.

You shifted again, a little more deliberately this time, your hips pressing down against his. A soft, almost inaudible gasp escaped your lips, and you buried your face in his neck to hide it, biting down on your lower lip as you tried to steady your breathing.

Satoru's chest vibrated against you with a low chuckle, his head tilting slightly as he brushed his lips along your jawline. "You okay there, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice a deep, velvety whisper that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core.

Your heart stuttered, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his lips press a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. He was still playing the game, but it was like he could sense the shift in your mood, the way your body was reacting to him.

The bastard always had a sixth sense when it came to you.

"You've been squirming an awful lot," he continued, his tone almost taunting as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "You trying to tell me something?"

You let out a small, frustrated huff, your fingers curling into his shirt as you tried to keep your composure. "N-No," you muttered, though the way your voice shook betrayed you.

"Mm, that doesn't sound very convincing," he teased, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and nibbling along the sensitive skin as his other hand tightened around the controller. His voice dropped lower, a breathy murmur that sent a shiver through your entire body. "You're not still mad at me, are you? For being such a bad boyfriend?"

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each word he whispered making it harder to think, harder to breathe. "Satoru, you—" You tried to protest, but your voice faltered as he pressed a particularly firm kiss to the base of your throat, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

"What, baby?" he asked, his tone playful, almost mocking as he lifted his head to look at you. His eyes were darker now, a shade of blue that was almost dangerous, and the smirk on his lips was edged with something mean, something that made your stomach twist in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. "I'm trying to focus here, and you keep squirming around like that. You making it hard for me on purpose?"

His words, laced with a teasing edge, made your cheeks burn. You tried to pull back, to get some space to think, but he only tightened his hold on you, his fingers digging into your waist as he kept you firmly in place.

"Aw, don't be shy now,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I know I've been a bad boyfriend, ignoring you like that. But you didn't make it easy either, distracting me while I'm trying to win."

You swallowed hard, the heat in your face spreading down your neck, your heart racing as his words washed over you.

There was a roughness to his tone, a sharp edge of frustration that made your breath hitch, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles were coiled tight under your hands.

"'Toru, please—" you started, but he cut you off, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he let out a low, dark chuckle.

"Please what, baby?" he purred, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzled against your neck. "Ya'know, if you're so impatient, you could just ride me." His words were like a shot to the heart, and your whole body froze, your breath catching in your chest as you processed what he'd just said.

You pulled back, eyes wide as you stared at him, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something far more dangerous. "W-What?"

Satoru's eyes darkened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned forward, his hands sliding down to your hips, his grip firm as he tugged you even closer. "You heard me," he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. "If you're so needy, you can just ride me. I won't stop you."

He shifted on the couch, his body curling in toward you as he caged you in, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he whispered again, his voice dripping with that mean, teasing lilt. "Go on, baby. Show me how badly you want my attention."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your whole body heating up as his words sank in, the implications of what he was saying making your head spin.

You tried to form a coherent thought, to come up with some kind of response, but your mind was blank, your body reacting instinctively as you pressed closer to him.

"'Toru—" you started, your voice trembling, but he just smirked, his hands squeezing your hips as he tilted his head, his eyes lidded and intense as he watched you.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his tone mocking, almost cruel as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "You were so eager to get my attention before. Did you change your mind?"

You shook your head, your breath hitching as his words sent another shiver through you, your fingers tightening in his shirt as you tried to find your voice. "N-No, I just—"

"Just what?" he pressed, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he whispered against your throat. "You said you were bored, didn't you? So why don't you entertain yourself, hmm?"

Your mind was reeling, the heat pooling low in your belly as his words wrapped around you, his voice a dark, seductive murmur that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

He was teasing you, taunting you, and the worst part was, it was working.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you looked up at him, his face so close, his eyes boring into yours with that wicked gleam that made your pulse quicken. "I—"

"Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice softening just a fraction as he kissed the corner of your mouth, his hands guiding your hips, pressing you down against him in a way that made your breath hitch. "I know you want to."

You felt like your whole body was on fire, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to watch you, his eyes dark and hungry, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he whispered, "Don't make me ask again."

You bit your lip, your gaze fluttering to the side, a clear sign of your defeat. Satoru's eyes lit up with satisfaction, and a slow, almost predatory smile spread across his lips. "Good girl~" he purred, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach flip.

Without wasting a moment, his hands moving with an almost practiced ease as he helped you get situated on his lap. His teammates' shouts grew louder, their voices crackling through the headset as they realized he was barely playing, his movements on screen sluggish and inattentive.

"Gojo, what the hell are you doing?"

"Dude, focus! We're gonna lose!"

But Satoru didn't care. His attention was almost entirely on you, his gaze heated as he watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

With one arm, he easily lifted you up, his strength almost dizzying as he held you aloft, giving you just enough space to quickly throw off your shorts and underwear.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, the cool air hitting your heated skin making you shiver as you tried to compose yourself.

You moved to straddle him again, your body desperate for the closeness, but he was quicker, his hands gripping your waist firmly. "Whoa, slow it down, babe," he teased, his voice light and teasing as he held you back, his grip strong enough to keep you still.

You gasped as he ran his long, deft fingers along your slit, the touch light and teasing, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his body was in the way, his hips and thighs keeping you spread open for him. "Babe—"

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckled lowly. "Such a reactive girl. At least someone’s not mad at me." His words were laced with a smug satisfaction that made your heart race even faster, and before you could respond, he leaned in, licking up the side of your neck in a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling.

His fingers continued their exploration, each movement deliberate and slow, teasing you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He found your entrance, his fingers sliding through your slickness, his touch almost reverent as he circled you with a gentle but insistent pressure.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, your body already aching for more as he continued his slow, torturous teasing.

"Look at you," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed your neck, his lips trailing along your collarbone. "Already so wet for me, and I've barely even touched you."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. "Satoru, please—"

"Hmm?" He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with a playful cruelty as he slipped one long finger inside you, the motion so slow, so deliberate, that it made you gasp. "Please what, baby?"

You whimpered, your body arching into his touch as he added a second finger, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit in a way that made your vision blur. He moved with an easy confidence, his fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that made your toes curl and your breath hitch.

"More?" he teased, his voice a low, mocking whisper as he pressed his thumb down harder, his fingers curling just right. "Is this what you wanted?"

You could barely think, your body already unraveling under his touch. He made it seem so effortless, the way he played you like an instrument, each movement calculated to draw the sweetest sounds from your lips.

You felt yourself tightening around his fingers, the pleasure building with each swipe of his thumb, each curl of his fingers.

It didn't take much for you to come undone, your body shuddering as he worked you through it, his lips pressing against your jaw, your neck, his words a constant, filthy murmur in your ear that only made you fall apart faster.

You could feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him as he kept his pace steady, his fingers relentless as he coaxed every last bit of pleasure from you.

And all the while, his teammates were still shouting through the headset, their voices a distant, almost surreal background noise as you lost yourself in the sensation, in him.

But Satoru didn't care. He had you exactly where he wanted you—right in his arms, every breathless moan, every shuddering gasp his to command.

You slumped against his chest, your breath coming in slow, uneven waves as the satisfaction curled through your body, making you feel warm and languid in his hold. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, the rapid beat of his heart thrumming under your ear.

You could still feel the faint aftershocks of pleasure rippling through you, your body trembling slightly as you tried to catch your breath.

But your reprieve didn't last long.

You felt Satoru's fingers tapping lightly against your lower spine, the touch almost teasing as he let out a low, breathless chuckle. "Didn't forget about me, did you, princess?" His voice was smooth, almost mocking, and you could feel the underlying heat in his words, the need that was barely restrained.

He shifted under you, his hips rolling up slightly to press against your core, and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched as you felt the prominent bulge beneath you, the hard line of him pressing against your bare skin.

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, his eyes dark and hungry as they trailed over your flushed face. You bit your lip, your hands moving to grip his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself, your body still weak and trembling. But he didn't give you much time to recover, his hands sliding down to your hips as he adjusted your position, his movements firm and insistent.

The friction of his sweatpants against your skin sent a shiver through you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the steady throb of his arousal pressing against your entrance.

Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, and you took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself as you lifted yourself up slightly, giving him just enough room to free himself from the confines of his sweats.

With a quick, practiced motion, he pushed the waistband of his sweatpants down, his cock springing free and slapping against his lower abdomen.

It was impressive—long and thick, the skin flushed a deep red at the tip, a bead of precum oozing from the slit. A faint white trail of hair led down from his lower abdomen, drawing your eyes down the length of him, and you could feel your mouth go dry at the sight. It twitched against his stomach, the movement almost impatient as it stood proudly between you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a strange mix of excitement and anticipation coiling low in your belly as you looked down at him. The sight of him like this, so exposed, so needy, made your own body react instinctively, your core clenching around nothing as you felt the heat building between your thighs again.

Satoru let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "See something you like?" he teased, his voice a low, breathy murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. He lifted his hand, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he gripped your waist, guiding you closer. "Don't be shy, baby."

You swallowed hard, your hands moving to his chest as you shifted in his lap, your eyes flicking between his face and the length of him, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to process what you were about to do.

He was watching you with that same dark, intense gaze, his pupils blown wide with lust as he leaned back slightly, giving you the space you needed.

You took a deep breath, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached down, your eyes never leaving his as you positioned yourself above him. You could feel his hands on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he held you steady, his breath coming in quick, shallow pants as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and impatience.

"W-Wait—" you started, your voice barely a whisper, but he cut you off, his grip tightening as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Don't keep me waiting, princess," he murmured, his voice rough and needy as he kissed the side of your neck. "I've been patient long enough."

Your body shuddered at his words, your heart racing as you nodded, your hands moving to grip his shoulders as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him.

You could feel the stretch, the slow, delicious burn as he filled you, your breath catching in your throat as you took him in inch by inch, your body trembling with the effort.

He let out a low, guttural groan, his head falling back against the couch as his eyes fluttered shut, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided you down onto him. "Fuck! Yeah, that's it, baby," he breathed, his voice strained and rough. "Just like that."

You could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched you, filled you, the sensation almost overwhelming as you finally settled in his lap, your body flush against his.

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath as he looked up at you, his eyes dark and half-lidded, a small, almost dazed smile on his lips.

"There you go," he murmured, his hands moving up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks as he looked at you with a mixture of awe and desire. "Such a good girl for me."

You could only lick your lips, your own eyes dazed with lust as you stared up at him, feeling completely intoxicated by the sensation of him filling you so perfectly.

It was like he was made for you, every inch of him fitting just right, and you could barely think past the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

You felt weightless, almost dizzy, and it took everything in you just to keep breathing, your chest heaving as you tried to steady yourself.

Satoru took a few more seconds, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his eyes drinking in the sight of you on him as if committing this moment to memory.

But then his entire expression shifted, his eyes narrowing, the gentle touch of his hands replaced by a firm grip on your waist. He suddenly jolted his hips up in a sharp, powerful thrust, his fingers digging into your skin as you gasped, your body arching in response.

With his other hand, he picked up the controller, his lips pulling up into a wicked smirk as he leaned back against the couch, his posture casual, almost lazy, despite the intensity of his gaze.

"Alright, baby," he murmured, his voice low and taunting. "Time to ride."

You couldn't even respond, your body moving almost on its own as you began to follow his command, your legs trembling as you lifted yourself up and then sank back down onto him. The sensation was overwhelming, each movement sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you felt him stretch and fill you again and again.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for support, your nails digging into his skin as you moved slowly, your body vibrating with every slight jolt of his hips as he met your movements with his own.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the pleasure building with each roll of your hips, each shift of your weight.

Satoru's reaction was almost maddening.

He was still playing the game, his eyes half-lidded as he focused on the screen, his fingers moving over the controller with a practiced ease. But his breathing was heavier now, each inhale a little sharper, a little more labored.

Every now and then, a small groan would escape his lips, his fingers tightening on the controller as he struggled to keep his focus. But he was still holding it together, still managing to play the game, his gaze flicking between you and the screen as if he were watching both of his worlds collide in the most delicious way.

It was almost infuriating, the way he could be so composed, so focused, even as you were falling apart on top of him.

You could feel the frustration and desire swirling inside you, the steady rise and fall of your hips turned into something more desperate, more needy.

You started to grind down against him, your body trembling with the effort, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you chased that high, the friction of him inside you almost too much, and yet not nearly enough.

You bit down on his shoulder, your teeth sinking into his skin just enough to muffle the sounds threatening to spill from your lips as you rocked against him, the pleasure continuing to build.

The warmth inside you was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with each desperate grind of your hips. Your thoughts were dissolving, your mind consumed by the need to reach the end.

But Satoru, damn him, was still so composed, so infuriatingly in control, even as his breath hitched and his muscles tensed beneath your touch. He was watching you with that same dark, intense gaze, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as he leaned back, his fingers digging into your waist as he guided you, his voice low and teasing as he murmured, "That's it, baby. Don't stop. Show me how much you need it."

And you did, your body moving faster, more erratic as you chased that high, your eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure built to a dizzying peak.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your whole body trembling with the effort, and you knew you were close, so close, but you needed more.

You needed him.

Before you could say anything, Satoru's hips jolted up in a sudden, forceful thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you that had you letting out a sharp squeak, your entire body tensing as you clenched around him.

The reaction it pulled from him was immediate—a low, whiny groan slipping from his lips, his head falling back against the couch, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the tight squeeze of you around him.

That sound—it sent you spiraling, your mind going blank with the need to hear it again, to feel that desperate intensity between you.

You could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him, his features twisted in a mix of pleasure and restraint.

The sounds of your bodies moving together, the wet, obscene noises of him thrusting into you filled the room, almost drowning out the distant shouts from his headset.

The headset he'd been wearing slipped down to his neck, hanging awkwardly as the commotion and shouts from his teammates on the other end grew quieter, almost like they were stunned into silence by what they were hearing. But Satoru didn't seem to care anymore, his grip on the controller loosening until he finally just threw it to the side, muttering a rough "Fuck it," under his breath.

He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, and then he began thrusting up into you with a pace that left you breathless, his movements quick and forceful, each stroke long and deep.

You couldn't hold back the sounds now, your voice coming out in a series of warbled, wanton moans that felt too loud, too raw, filling the space around you.

You tried to bite down on his shirt to muffle the noise, but it was impossible, your whole body shuddering with each powerful thrust, your mind lost to the pleasure coursing through you.

In the back of your mind, a small, fleeting thought reminded you that his teammates could probably hear everything, but the haze of lust and pleasure had made it impossible to care. All that mattered was him, the way he was moving inside you, the way he was filling you so completely, so perfectly, that it left you trembling.

"Gods, you feel so fucking good," he growled, his voice rough and breathless as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "So tight, so wet... squeezing me like you never want to let go."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the filthy praise, the heat pooling low in your belly as he continued to thrust up into you, each movement more desperate, more intense than the last. "You like that, huh?" he whispered, his voice low and almost cruel as he rocked his hips up again, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Like being my good girl?"

You could only nod, your head falling forward as you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on, tried to keep yourself together. But he was relentless, his pace punishing as he fucked up into you, his hands guiding you, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"Come on, baby, don't hold back now," he murmured, his voice dripping with that dark, teasing lilt that made your whole body thrum with need. "Let me hear how good I make you feel. Let me hear what a mess you are for me."

His words broke something inside you, your body shaking as you moaned loudly, your head falling back as the pleasure washed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming.

You could feel him shifting, his hand moving between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, quick circles that had you seeing stars.

Satoru's hips slammed into you, his thrusts fast and rough, his breath coming in harsh pants as he continued to fuck you, his fingers working you with a skill that made your head spin.

You could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable, your entire body trembling as you teetered on the edge.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" he growled, his voice strained, his teeth grazing against your neck as he kept up that relentless pace, his hand never stopping its assault on your clit. "Come on, I know you're close. Be a good girl and cum for me. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing, the last push you needed as your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat as you shattered around him.

You could barely hear yourself, your moans loud and desperate as you came, your entire body shaking with the force of it, your mind going blank as the pleasure crashed over you in waves.

Satoru wasn't far behind, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more frantic as he chased his own release.

With a final, deep thrust, he let out a low, filthy groan, his head falling back against the couch as he came, his body trembling beneath yours as he filled you completely.

You could feel the heat of him, the way he pulsed inside you, his breath ragged as he held you close, his hands still gripping your hips as he rode out his own high.

With nothing but your shared pants filling the room, Satoru shifted you gently, the movement drawing soft whines and groans from both of you as the overstimulation hit like a shockwave.

He carefully adjusted his position, cupping your face with one hand, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek.

You looked up at him, your vision hazy with the lingering remnants of pleasure, and saw the gentle concern etched into his features. His usually playful eyes were soft, almost vulnerable, as he searched your face.

"I'm really sorry for ignoring you earlier," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost hesitant as if he were afraid you might still be upset. "I hope you aren't still mad at me."

You managed a tired smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you leaned up to press a soft, chaste kiss to his chin, the best you could reach in your current state.

Your body felt heavy, languid, the exhaustion of everything catching up to you. "It's okay, 'Toru" you whispered, your voice hoarse but sincere. "We both get hyperfocused sometimes. Just... let's try to plan days like this better, okay?"

This was just how Satoru was—easily distracted, but always committed to seeing things through.

You couldn't really fault him for it, not when it was one of the things you loved most about him. "I know you don't mean to ignore me, but just... talk to me. Let me know when you're in the zone like this, and we can work around it."

He nodded, his eyes soft as he listened, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a slow, comforting motion. "Yeah, you're right. I'll do better. Promise."

Before either of you could say anything else, a voice crackled through the headset still hanging around his neck, the sound startling in the quiet, intimate space.

"Shiiiit, the way y'all were fucking, I hope she still not mad either!"

The rest of his teammates erupted into laughter, their voices loud and boisterous as they teased and joked, clearly unbothered by the fact that they’d been privy to far more than they’d bargained for.

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at Satoru, his expression mirroring your own.

For a split second, you were both frozen, caught between embarrassment and disbelief.

Then, with a hasty curse under his breath, Satoru reached over, fumbling with the headset as he tried to switch it off, his fingers slipping in his rush. "Goddamn it," he muttered, finally managing to yank it off and toss it aside, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

You couldn't help it—the absurdity of the situation, the sheer ridiculousness of being caught like this by his friends, it all came crashing down on you, and before you knew it, you were laughing, the sound breathless and a little hysterical as you buried your face in his chest.

Satoru looked down at you, his lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face, but the sound of your laughter was infectious, and soon he was joining in, his laughter a low, rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate against yours.

"I can't believe this," you managed to gasp between giggles, your shoulders shaking as you clung to him. "I'm never gonna be able to look at them again."

He shook his head, still chuckling as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "Don't worry, baby. I'll just have to kick their asses next time we play.”

You snorted, your laughter finally calming as you rested your head against his shoulder, the embarrassment still there, but tempered now by the warmth of his embrace. "You're unbelievable."

"Yeah, but you love me," he teased, his voice soft and teasing as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Yeah..." You sighed, your heart swelling with affection as you snuggled closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your cheek. "...I do."

"Good," he murmured, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair. "Because I love you too."

And for a moment, everything else faded away—the embarrassment, the laughter, the lingering heat of what had just happened.

All that mattered was the warmth of his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart, and the quiet, undeniable truth that no matter what, you'd always be his, and he'd always be yours.

A/N: y'all i think i'm broken, i can't seem to write straight forward smut without making a plot w/ it 😭😭💔 i hope y'all don't get tired of me doing it, but my mind won't let me get freaky until i picture it all like a movie 😔

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