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dearmisshoney · 3 months ago

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flesh light & prone bones

synopsis. coming home from brunch, you expected an empty apartment — not to catch your cocky roommate mattheo fucking a fleshlight to the thought of you. curiosity turns to temptation, and you both realize toys could never replace the real thing.

pairing. roommate! mattheo riddle x reader

content/mdni. fem!reader, roommate!au, pervert!reader, cocky!mattheo, pervert!mattheo, implied gymrat!mattheo, fleshlight-fucking, assisted masturbation, voyeurism to participation, filthy teasing, praise, dirty talk, name-calling (sweetheart, baby), overstimulation, allusion to edging, spit play, cum eating, doggy-style/prone bone (?), headlock/slight choking, slight spanking, unprotected p in v!

word count. 3.6k

a/n. this one goes to @pizzaapeteer! she convinced me to write another matty fic! let me know what you think. likes and reblogs are appreciated

inserting the keys in the lock and turning them twice, you finally locked the front door. leaving them to dangle in the door, you slowly made your way inside your shared apartment with mattheo. you only stopped for a moment in the hallway, removing your shoes and the purse you’ve been carrying around your brunch date with the girls.

but not your wired headphones.

no, you’d rather keep those in for the time being, preferring to listen to any kind of music than to mattheo rambling about sports and the like. you weren’t even sure he was home; he had a really bad habit of keeping to himself the important information, disclosing only dumb details like how much his bench press has improved.

but as you make your way further into the apartment, you realize he is home. the opened cardboard box on the kitchen island, the ripped package, and the violently scattered foam bits were a clear indicator that mattheo was at home.

“this jerk never cleans after himself.” you mumbled underneath your breath, extremely quiet, and if it weren’t for the fact that you said these words, you wouldn’t have been able to hear them thanks to your loud music.

mattheo was not the perfect roommate. he was flashy, annoying, messy. he also seems to respect the concept of privacy only when it applies to him; if you try to count the times you’ve found him in your room like a pervert, you wouldn’t have enough fingers, hands and feet combined.

nonetheless, he was paying his share of the rent in time, and if you yell at him a bit, he does clean around as well.

curious as ever, you approached the box to figure out what mattheo ordered.

“kidney failure is written all over him.”

it was probably another gigantic container of protein powder, or creatine, or whatever powders he uses for the gym and his godly physique, as he likes to call it. mattheo has an entire lower kitchen cabinet dedicated to his fitness journey, so such purchases were not uncommon.

with all that in mind, the cardboard box seemed too small compared to his usual orders. the box was also a different shape than the usual huge square cube mattheo gets his supplements in. twisting and turning the package in your hands, your eyes scanned the surface for any sort of clue — a company name, a product name, heck, even a cringey motto about gym life.

but nothing.

the package was blank, discreet.

the foam chunks were of no help, and the shipping paper was torn to pieces.

“he really wanted what’s inside, huh?”

you might as well check the cabinet and see if a new container has been added. that way, the mystery will be solved quicker.

bending at the knees, you dropped down to mattheo’s gym stash and swung open the door. this cabinet was the only place mattheo kept all clean and organized, so you immediately realized no new product was added.

“what the fuck did he buy?”

muttering to yourself again, you raise from your position, prepared to investigate the torn paper. only to have your wired headphones latched around the cabinet knob and snatched out of your ears.

“ugh– this shi–”

“fuck, hmm, so good.”

now that your ears were no longer trapped by your headphones — which were now pathetically hanging around the knob — you could hear mattheo. and the nasty noises he was making.

he was loud.

“ah, ah, ah.”

his voice was low and raspy, and if it weren’t for the clear needy tone in his words, you would’ve said he was just having a bit too much fun with his video games.

that was not the case, however.

“s–so wet, damn.”

and with that, your brain short-circuits for good.

your entire body froze, one hand clenched around your knotty headphones, the other stiffing up by your side, clawing at the material of your shorts. you stayed like that for a few seconds, trying to process what the fuck you just heard.

maybe it wasn’t him. maybe it was porn, playing from his expensive speakers in his room.

yeah. yeah.

but no matter how much you tried to convince yourself, another guttural moan from mattheo shattered any sort of argument you could come up with.

that was him.

“tight as fuck, shittt.”

not only was mattheo home — he was very home, in his room, jacking off. owning the place and being as vocal as he liked.

“so good, so good.”

you wished to be angry and annoyed at him. you wished to slam your hand on the kitchen counter and yell his name to stop. you wished, you truly did, but something in you was fighting against these urges. something primal was itching at your brain, making your teeth bite into your lips, your hands clenching tighter.

something primal was itching at your stomach, making your tummy do a flip, your panties all wet.

“oh, baby, ohhh–”

you inhaled sharply, closing your eyes in an attempt to disconnect from the situation at hand and think straight.

i should just leave…

“ugh, damn.”

…pretend i heard nothing…

“it feels amazingggg.”

…and just take another walk.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk…”

yeah, i can do it–

you thought you could fight back, but your entire resolve collapsed when you heard your name moaned by mattheo.

that deep, rumbling voice, grunting your name without any shame. again, and again, and again.

“that pussy would feel so much better, i just know.”

so raw and desperate.

completely discarding your headphones, you finally moved. but not towards the front door.

tiptoeing down the hallway, you crept closer and closer to mattheo’s room. the wooden floor was slightly creaking underneath your footsteps, but neither you, nor mattheo seem to pay attention to it. he was too caught up in pleasure, and you were too turned on to care.

“you’d be so warm and– fuckk–”

mattheo was rambling on his own, groaning your name from time to time and vocalizing his dirtiest thoughts about you. and as wrong as this was — eavesdropping on your roommate fucking his fist, there was no shame in you. quite the opposite: his nasty words shoot directly at your core, making arousal pool in your panties and stick to your weeping cunt.

his door was slightly ajar. the close proximity allowed you to bathe into the obscene wet sounds he was making, now clearly registering the rhythmic movement of his thrusts. it was wet, stickily so, the sloshing noises being a definite indicator of mattheo’s need.

the close proximity also allowed you to dip your head in and take a peak.

but you shouldn’t. everyone has sexual urges and it was wrong for you–

“sweetheart, please…”

your head instantly turned towards the crack of the door, the pet name practically latching onto your neck and twisting you around to finally see him.

and you gasped.

that was not a hand.

there was mattheo, sprawled on his bed, completely naked. upper body leaning against the headboard, head thrown back. lower body jutting up and down from the mattress, thrusting with urgency into a pale grey fleshlight.

your thighs clamped into one another, your tiny shorts riding upwards on your legs, seam digging into your clit. you did your best not to snake your hand down into your panties to touch yourself, choosing to use it to steady yourself against the door.

you knew mattheo was hot.

hot was an understatement, really. as much as you liked to make fun of his cocky attitude and his pride for his godly physique, you couldn’t deny it. mattheo riddle was attractive beyond compare, and seeing him in this position made you want to jump on him and fuck him to death.

“shit– to have that sweet cunt all to myself…”

he was high on lust, babbling to himself between moans, jerking that new fleshlight to a sloppy rhythm. his abs were flexing with every rock of his hips; his arm, strained from the pressure of tightly gripping the sex toy, was a sharp valley of muscles, scattered with protruding veins.

“will you let me have you, sweetheart?”

shit.

his voice, still sultry and lustful, now had an undertone of arrogance. his head, previously lolling back against the wall, was now upright — his chocolate eyes staring right at you.

he caught you.

and he was proud of that.

“ah– don’t ignore me, baby.”

you couldn’t answer. words got stuck in your throat, your brain refusing to cooperate. you could only focus on the lazy movements of his hand, now guiding the fleshlight up and down his cock.

his cock, so hard and stiff. drenched in precum and lube. his cock, so red and pulsing, throbbing against the inside of the toy and begging for more.

his chest was raising and falling rapidly, visibly affected by the entire ordeal. the tips of his curls were sticking to his forehead, skin all sweaty and slick. yet, mattheo seemed more composed than you were.

“after i’ve called for you so nicely…”

he smirked, dragging the toy all the way down to his base with a deep groan; sheltering his entire shaft into the poor fleshlight.

“…could at least help me out, sweetheart.”

he did it all intentionally.

it wasn’t like mattheo did not know you got home. he knew, and that urged him to masturbate even more.

you swallowed thickly, still unsure whether to step in or not. a part of you wanted to join him desperately; the other part was arguing for you to leave and cool off alone.

mattheo could see the storm behind your gaze. and he knew how to help you decide.

suddenly, he removed the fleshlight from his shaft completely, letting the sex toy fall from his hand somewhere on the mattress. letting you see the way his stiff cock escaped from its confinement, stood tall for a few seconds, then flopped to the side.

“you’re a manwhore, mattheo.”

it’s all you managed to say as you stepped into the room, removing your cardigan, and throwing it somewhere on his floor.

“you say it like it’s a bad thing, baby.”

he hissed between his teeth, brushing off your ‘compliment’ and focusing on your actions. removing your outer layer, you were now nicely standing in a cropped tee and the tiniest fucking shorts he has ever seen you wear.

and when you seated yourself next to him on the bed, his cock twitched against his thigh hard.

“what if i had guests, hm?”

your voice was condescending, mean. your gaze sharp and accusatory.

but that only turned him on more.

mattheo let out a short, breathy laugh, licking over his lips. your question was of little importance to him. his eyes were focused on you only, hypnotized by your entire existence.

“but you don’t.”

he was so shameless, so brazen. his gaze was dancing along your body, making a first stop on your perky tits, another on the exposed skin of your thighs.

even if you had guests, he wouldn’t have acted differently.

“pervert.”

you spat at him like you were disgusted by his behaviour, yet your hand drew closed to the sex toy and brought it back into the spotlight.

“who would’ve thought–…”

you grabbed the base of his cock without warning, eliciting a strangled moan from mattheo.

“–that you’d–”

gathering some of your spit, you let the liquid drip all the way down to his cock, hitting the throbbing tip and gliding down the side of his cock.

“oh, fuck, wait–”

“–get a fleshlight.”

positioning the fleshlight at the right angle, you dragged it all the way down. his hips buckled involuntarily, the sudden stimulation making his thighs shake.

“why not fuck a real woman?”

you began moving the toy slowly, guiding it up and down. twisting and turning your wrist with expertise, you tried to mimic the way mattheo was jerking himself off before your intrusion.

“oh my god, this is so hot.”

mattheo was still taken aback by the entire situation: not only did you join him in bed, you were now pumping his cock with this newly bought sex toy, making him writhe around his bedsheets.

“so easily pleased.”

you hummed, mocking the way mattheo was already succumbing to pleasure.

he tried to take charge again, raising his torso from the headboard, but you were quicker. with a hand on his chest, you harshly pushed him back down, causing him to drop even closer to the mattress than before.

“answer me, mattheo!”

your speed around his shaft slowed, now dragging the toy at an agonizingly low pace. seeing your roommate mattheo scrunch his face in both pain and pleasure was irresistible.

“t–they’re not you.”

“not me?”

you did not expect such an answer. but he seemed to have answered truthfully, so you reward him by speeding up again.

“ah, ah, ah, sweetheart.”

mattheo was gasping now, hips chasing every glide of the toy like his life depends on it. his eyes were blown-out, half-lidded, heavy with lust; his mouth parted, his lips glossy with spit.

he hated how much of an effect you had on him, but he couldn’t do much.

your hand did anything but falter. the wet suction of the fleshlight was echoing louder and louder between the two of you, almost harmonizing with mattheo’s moans. he was putty under your control, and that made your cunt throb hard.

“and is this toy me?”

you seemed almost mad that he’d compare you with a stupid inanimate object: your lovely lips formed a pout, and your eyes widened with pretend sadness. all of it to emotionally taunt and pester mattheo.

“i can’t fuck you.”

mattheo raised his tone, exhasperated by your little accusations. why were you playing dumb? you would never let him blow your back, so a fleshlight was the onl–

“who said that?”

“huh?”

“who said you can’t fuck me?”

you tilted your head mockingly, putting all your effort into squeezing the base of the toy harder. you wanted to make him cum, you wanted to make him shoot his seed deep into the fleshlight.

“oh, baby, baby baby–”

he was chanting pet names like a mantra, his fingers clawing at the sheets with desperation. his jaw was clenched, and the veins on his forearms were accentuated even more.

he was close. so close.

“c–can i actually fuck you?”

oh, he was so damn cute. such a big beefy guy, asking for permission, on the verge of tears.

“of course you can.”

mattheo did not answer that. only a long and loud groan left his lips, head digging against the headboard more and more. his body jolted once, twice, then shuddered hard as thick ropes of cum filled the toy.

you could feel the way the fleshlight became heavier with each passing second. you could also hear the slick squelches of it, louder and wetter, as you were still gliding it on his cock — milking him dry.

“give me all you’ve got!”

mattheo was done for. he looked absolutely wrecked, absolutely ruined — you loved it.

“f–fuck, no more, please.” he whined, tossing his head to the side from overstimulation.

you had no intention of stopping, really. but something about mattheo pleading to be released changed your resolve. so, with one final drag up his sensitive cock, you released him.

his cum oozed out of the toy in thick drips immediately, staining his crotch and abs.

“damn, you really filled it up!”

holding the toy up for inspection, you could see his release seeping more and more out of it. it was creamy and gooey, and it made you wonder how it tastes.

“oh, shut up, you–”

raising the fleshlight higher, you stuck out your tongue and allowed some of his cum to land on it. the salty taste spread across your mouth in an instant.

and instead of spitting it, you happily swallowed.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

mattheo witnessed the entire thing. his cock did too, hardening again against his abs.

“wanna compare it with the real thing?”

and there it was — an even deadlier proposal from you.

you did not even wait for his answer, certain he will agree. rather, you discarded the toy completely, dropping it on the floor, choosing to turn around and bend over for mattheo.

“want? i need it.”

you heard him barely mutter behind you, as eager as before. he retracted his legs from the mattress, allowing you the space to position yourself on your hands and knees for him.

“fuck, baby, your shorts are soaked.”

mattheo now had a clear view of the effect he had on you: your tiny cotton shorts were stained with a big patch of arousal, butchered up all the way into your cunt. heck, if he tried more, he could define the outline of your pussy through your clothes.

“c’mon, mattheo, fuck me!”

you mewled at him like a vixen, arching your back into him and shaking your clothed ass. you instantly felt mattheo’s rough hands cupping the fat of your behind, caressing the skin and even dipping his fingers underneath your shorts.

feeling around. exploring.

“mattheo, huryyyyy”

“shut up.” he growled at you, striking your right buttcheek in a sharp and swift motion. “let me admire you.”

he continued to roam his hands all over you, feather touches all over your skin — exposed or not.

but not for long, as his patience was wearing thin as well.

gripping the hem of your shorts and panties at the same time, mattheo finally dragged them down to your bent knees, exposing that warm and needy hole to his eyes.

“fuck, how could i assume–”

mattheo grasped the base of his cock and, stepping closer to you, he immediately brushed the tip of his cock across your folds, gathering and spreading your wetness around.

“–that i can replace you–”

just to torture you back, he pushed his shaft against your pulsing hole, applying enough pressure for you to feel him, but not enough to enter you.

“–with a mere toy?”

“please, mattheo…”

and there it was, you begging. exactly what he was waiting for.

with your sweet plea on your lips, mattheo finally thrusted inside of you. impatient as ever, he stuffed you full from the beginning, reaching the deepest part of your cunt and hitting that sensitive spot with his tip.

“fuck, it’s so hot.”

ah, you were stuffed to the brim.

“and your walls are sucking me in.”

you could feel every vein and ridge on his cock, pressing deliciously against you.

“loosen up, sweetheart. shit. i can’t move.”

and you did your best to listen, but your hungry pussy was sucking him in like a vice. with your cunt gripping tightly around his shaft, mattheo managed to pull out only halfway.

“i won’t last long, baby.”

and then he thrusted back in. hard. pushing your entire body forward and ruining any sort of balance in your upper body, you fell on the mattress face down.

“fuck, you feel amazing!”

“never keep this pussy away from me, you hear me?”

his rhythm was now constant, jutting his hips into yours at a desperate pace.

“i will have this pussy breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

mattheo's guttural promise echoed in your ears as his hips picked up the pace.

carnal desire was evident in the way he was pounding into you — with unrestrained force. your body instinctively arched more and more against him, wishing to never be separated from his body ever again.

the slapping sounds of flesh on flesh was the only prevalent sound, sometimes joined by moans, gasps and whines. your face was completely buried in the mattress, lips even biting at the bedsheets in an attempt to muffle some of your pornographic noises.

mattheo saw that and did not like it one bit.

“bad fucking girl!”

your entire upper body was lifted from the bed in one smooth movement, mattheo’s strong arms sneaking around your torso and neck. his right arm was gripping at your midpoint, steadying you.

his other arm, however, put your head in a nice meaty headlock.

“let me hear you, sweetheart!”

tightening his hold on you, his arm immediately flexed around your neck, pushing his hard bicep closer to your face.

“ah, mattheo.”

“yeah, baby. gonna cum?”

the new position allowed mattheo to reach even deeper, kissing your cervix with his aggressive thrusts. he was throbbing, ready to orgasm a second time that day.

“let me make you cum.” he whispered softly against your face, placing a half-peck on the shell of your ear.

and with that, he lowered his hand from your torso to your pussy, locating your pulsing nub and drawing fast circles on it.

“oh my god i'm–”

and he was too. his hips slammed faster and faster into your cunt, sloppily thrusting until the very end.

“don’t move!” he grunted aggressively in your ear.

mattheo could feel you spasming, trying to run away from him. but he had to fill you up. he had to cream your pussy for real.

“take it all, sweetheart. be a good fucktoy for me!”

and you couldn’t go against him even if you wanted to. his big arms were securely holding your body in place.

so you stilled your hips as best as you could, settling nicely into his body, allowing mattheo to paint your insides with his cum.

and make a big mess, just like he did with the fleshlight.

•••

“i am throwing away the fleshlight!”

“oh, so i did better than it?”

“you’re insane for even asking.”

©dearmisshoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

tags: @downbad4reid, @cafechichay, @lov3notts

#~ 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘳 #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #pervert!mattheo #roommmate!mattheo #gymrat!mattheo #slytherin smut #slytherin boys smut #smut #x reader #sub!mattheo

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health-tips-supplements · 1 year ago

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nitadllyss · 5 months ago

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The wrong pill.

Plot: Han takes a pill for his training, not realizing it’s viagra—let alone on the day he was going to see you.

Genre:smut, nsfw, Erotic Romance, PWP.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, use of Viagra, sex under its influence, oral sex (m!receiving), no condom use, semen, penetration (m/f), praise, etc.

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

Han had been fighting hard with the staff to be able to show off his body and tattoos. For this reason, he was preparing physically with great dedication. He never skipped a day at the gym, and it was obvious how much more muscular he had gotten.

He was now getting ready to train with Changbin. They were at his house, since Han had stayed over the night before; it had been too late for him to return home. To prepare his pre-workout shake, he used Changbin's stuff.

"Where do you have the creatine?" Han asked while rummaging through the drawer where Changbin kept his supplements.

"They are the transparent capsules" Changbin answered, focused on making his own pre-workout shake.

Han took his shake followed by the corresponding pills.

Everything was going well during the training. He was really satisfied with the results he was getting. For him, gaining muscle was easier, so in a short time he could already notice a noticeable difference.

As he was training, his alarm went off to remind him to take his intra-workout pill. He was committed to getting good and fast results, so he never missed a dose of vitamins or supplements.

“Hey, Bin, do you have any intra-workout pills?” Han asked, a little worried when he realized he hadn’t brought any.

“I think there’s L-Carnitine in my bag. Check it out and take one,” Changbin said, pointing to his gym bag.

Han walked over, opened the bag, and saw a mess of pills. Changbin definitely needed to be more organized. He assumed it was one of the white capsules, so he wasn’t too careful when taking one.

About 40 minutes later, after finishing his workout, he headed home. He was excited because he would see you today. They were having a sleepover. They weren’t a couple or anything, just best friends… although Han had been in love with you forever.

As he arrived, he started to feel strange. He was sweatier than usual, and as he looked in the mirror, he noticed his neck and ears were red. He brushed it off and went to take a shower, making sure he looked good for when you arrived.

After getting ready, however, he noticed that his face was still red, his heart was racing, and most worryingly… he had an erection. And it wasn't a regular one.

He didn't understand why, but his erection was strong and persistent.

Just as he was trying to do something to disguise it, he heard a knock on the door. He felt a chill in his chest and his nervousness increased.

When he opened it, there you were, looking cute and radiant as always. But something was different. He no longer noticed how pretty your makeup or hair looked. He could only focus his attention on how your breasts stood out under the neckline of your blouse and how juicy your thighs looked under your skirt.

"Hey!" you greeted, smiling, and went over to hug him, like you always did.

"Hey, babe" he replied playfully, using the nickname he used to call you.

You smiled at him and walked into his house.

"I'm sorry if I look all dressed up, I just got back from an outing with friends. Could you lend me some comfortable clothes to sleep in?"

He felt his erection throb as he heard that. Just imagining you in his clothes was driving him crazy.

"Ah… yeah, yeah, I'll be right back," he stammered, hurrying to his room. He looked for one of his shirts and, upon returning, handed it to you.

You changed without a problem, leaving you only with the shorts that you were wearing under your skirt.

"Thanks, Ji," you said, turning around to show him how his clothes looked on you.

Was he drooling? He wasn't sure, but he was literally mesmerized by the way your breasts were poking out from under his shirt. He was going to lose control.

"Come on, let's find the movie," you said, sitting next to him on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder as he browsed through the options.

You picked a horror movie, his favorites. Han hoped it would distract him from you, but every time you freaked out and came closer, his erection throbbed harder. It had even started to hurt.

After a while, you went to the bathroom. When you came back, you froze.

Han was on the couch, rubbing the bulge in his pants, panting softly.

"Ha-Han?" you asked, approaching him cautiously. It was then that you noticed the wet spot on his clothes.

"Mmh… I'm s-sorry…" he mumbled, throwing his head back, unable to keep his hands away from his crotch.

"Han, wtf?", you said, a bit embarrassed, not fully understanding the situation.

"Please don't be mad… I don't know what's wrong with me, but it hurts so much…" he whispered with his eyes closed, wishing the earth would swallow him up.

Just then his cell phone rang. It was Changbin.

"Bro, I think you took one of my viagra pills. That, or one went missing… I hope it doesn't cause you too much trouble."

"Are you kidding me?" Han almost screamed. "Why the hell would you have that in your bag? Ahg, it would kill you!" He hung up the call, frustrated.

Now everything made sense. At least for him.

You, on the other hand, were still standing in front of him, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Han looked up and let out a gasp as he watched you fix your eyes on his erection. His face flushed with embarrassment and he quickly placed a cushion on his lap.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, feeling like crying from both the shame and the pain in his pants.

"Don't worry... I'll leave so you can, uh... fix that..." you said, looking away, your cheeks flushing.

"Please... stay..." he asked almost in a plea.

You hesitated for a second, but seeing him like this, you couldn't help but feel a little sorry. And what was worse... you felt the wetness in your underwear since you noticed his bulge.

Han grunted as he felt you approach and pressed the cushion harder against himself.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, curious. You didn’t know if his gasps were from pain or pleasure.

“A lot…” he closed his eyes, rubbing himself more desperately.

You bit your lip. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you...want me to help you?"

Han felt his breath hitch.

“You don’t have to… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” but his hips contradicted his words. Not to mention the way his cock thrashed around in his pants.

But instead of answering, you placed a hand on top of his and pulled the cushion off his lap.

“I want to do it,” you whispered before leaning in and devouring his lips.

You could feel him holding back in the kiss, making hesitant movements, so you went deeper, mixing your tongues and sitting on top of his lap.

He couldn't help but growl into your mouth, the firmness with which he held your hips applying pressure having that slight relief that at the same time made him thirsty for more.

They got lost in the messy kiss, Han was already more confident and in control of the situation. As he pulled away he bit your lower lip in an attempt to chase you.

"Han~" you began to move your hips in circles, enjoying how his body reacted, feeling him so firm under you.

Han was so lost, he felt very high.

He was drowning in your neck, licking and biting every trace of visible skin.

"Han wait" you pulled away from the addictive sensation of his hot and wet tongue on your skin.

"Do you want to stop?" He said a little worried and disappointed, leaving a little space.

"No, I just want to make you feel good" you smiled and gave him a chaste kiss leaving him stunned.

You climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him.

You gave his thigh a caress before pulling down his fly. Seeing the wet spot on his underwear made your mouth water. You gave his clothed cock a kiss and then a lick.

Han's hands clenching the couch, his white knuckles trying not to fuck your mouth madly.

You pulled his underwear down along with his pants to his ankles and felt the saliva pooling in your mouth.

His tanned cock with its red head very sensitive. It was shiny from the precum that bathed it excessively.

With your thumb you touched the slit of his head probing a little. You smiled at the gasps from him.

"Ahh~ Y/N don't play" he clenched his jaw a bit desperately.

You gave him a kitten lick along his length and then swirled around his tip, you felt that with so little he was close to his release.

You started jerking him off with your hands, mixing your licks and squeezes.

Han was literally struggling not to cum and that started to bother you. You took him in your mouth, sucking lightly and making a mess of saliva and his fluids.

“You look so cute like this,” he said, totally pleased by the way your chin was disgustingly dripping with saliva. His duality made you clench your legs, minutes ago he was all whiny begging like a bitch and the tone he let out was so different.

You let out a moan and took him deeper, making yourself gag.

"Mmh you like being good for me? I'm sure you were drooling seeing me hard" he put a hand on your head, gathering your hair in a handful.

You rolled your eyes and moaned again, not quite understanding if it was his tone that caused it or the simple fact of being him.

"You feel so fucking good, you have a very skilled little mouth" he threw his head back growling at your gasps.

Determined to make him cum you forced your poor throat accompanying with your hands squeezing and massaging his balls.

You felt his cock move in your mouth.

"Mmh Y/N w-wait" he tried to stop your movements, but you only stood firmer, watching him stagger was everything.

Out of instinct he pressed your head towards him, betrayed by his pleasure seeking body.

Then after a few more seconds he cum in your mouth with many thick loads straight to your throat.

The growl followed by a pornographic moan was beautiful. He threw his head back and let go of your head.

"Was it good?" You said smiling licking your cum stained corners.

"It was literally amazing" he smirked and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Thanks Y/N" he said looking at you and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You snuggled into his hand lovingly until you saw him frown.

"What? You're still hard? How is that possible" you said stunned, he was still rock hard AFTER CUMMING.

"It's not really something I can help" he grimaced.

"It's a good thing" you said standing up.

"Hmm?" Han said confused looking at you.

"It would really be a shame if you left me wanting to fuck, I really appreciate that pill" you said biting your lip and pulling down your shorts along with your underwear.

Han followed your movements attentively, as if he was bewitched by your charm. Seeing your underwear on the floor he let out a gasp at the visible stain of arousal you had left.

"You're needy aren't you?" He smiled shamelessly as if it wasn't his cock that had been erect for over an hour.

He took off his shirt showing his tattoos, you had already seen them, but seeing them together with his needy cock is something different.

You followed his steps and undressed completely, he stretched out his hand, in a quick movement he left you on your knees on the couch, your face against the couch and your ass completely exposed to his mercy.

"I promise that after this I will take the time to adore you as you deserve" he said in your ear followed by a kiss on your cheek.

You felt your heart flutter.

"But now I'm going to use you however I want" he ran his tongue disgustingly across your cheek, dirtyly erasing the tender kiss he had left.

He took your moan as consent and positioned himself behind you.

"So cute, willing to help me even if she has to give me her body" he smacked your ass with his hard cock making you gasp. He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning.

He spit on your entrance and without preparation pushed the tip in stretching you deliciously.

You both let out a gasp, the desire that was there making the pleasure double.

"You're so tight" he pushed himself in a little further and you could only moan begging for him to bottom out.

When he reached his base you arched your back and threw your head back.

"You're being so good for me" he began to give slow but deep thrusts.

"You don't know how many times I masturbated imagining having you like this for me" he growled.

In response you moaned and clenched around him.

He put his hand on your head pushing hard against the couch and began to penetrate you faster and harder.

You just moaned with each thrust totally lost in the way you felt every inch of his cock in your insides, the pain of his grip on your head making it even more pleasurable. You were completely at his mercy.

He put his other hand on your hip, helping him thrust more violently, moaning and grunting at how close his climax felt.

And before he had a chance to pull out of you, he cum deeply.

Feeling his hot cum fill you and his grunt you joined him in the climax moaning and clenching yourself choking his member against your rubbery walls now painted white.

You were so exhausted you could only gasp waiting for him to pull out.

He was still buried deep appreciating the warmth of your shared orgasms.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't want to..." he said, still without leaving you.

It's like his brain works, but his body has control.

"Calm down, actually, I liked it" you said trying to get over the climb.

He withdrew from you slowly, making you feel every inch you were losing. When he pulled out completely he admired your stretched entrance dripping with your mixed fluids.

"Are you okay?" He came back to reality and approached your face to check.

" It was so good" you said smiling and a bit sleepy "so you masturbated thinking about me? That's interesting" you laughed mockingly.

"Shut up, there's no need to repeat that" he was blushing as if you hadn't fucked two minutes ago.

You lay down and looked at him a little worried about what would happen to you after that.

"Can we leave that talk for later?" Literally as if he had read your thoughts.

"What needs to be done now?" You said, not understanding why he was putting off the talk.

You then saw him turn bright red and look down at his cock. He was hard again.

This was going to be a long sleepover.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know 🙏🏻.

I need more practice writing smuts :((

I have several Chan fics waiting to be reviewed before posting 🤭.

If you have any requests, send them💞.

2K notes · View notes

sixxels · 3 months ago

Text

babydoll

frat!gojo x shy!fem reader !!

part 1 ! part 2 ! part 3 !

final !!

wc : 11.8k (haha)

disclaimer !! SMUT FINALLY. slight sukuna x reader, slow burn, fluff, angst/comfort, yearning satoru, whipped satoru, satoru is just so enamoured with reader omg. follows the ‘was i just a bet?’ premise!! reader is implied to wear very cutesy kinds of clothings and enjoys very girly and feminine things !!

the party was booming.

music thumped through the floors, bodies moved in rhythm, and laughter spilled from every room. lights danced across the walls in a kaleidoscope of red and gold, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged. not because you fit in, but because gojo satoru made it feel like you did.

you were tucked into his side on a battered leather couch, sipping from a red cup that had long since gone flat. his hand rested on your knee, thumb brushing gentle arcs against your skin as he talked with someone from his econ class. you weren’t really listening to the conversation. you were too busy soaking it in, the way his laugh rumbled in his chest, the way he glanced at you every few seconds like you might disappear if he looked away too long.

occasionally he'd lean over and kiss your forehead, a gesture that was becoming pretty common for the two of you, never on the lips, but still just as sweet.

it felt real.

it felt safe.

until the front door slammed open like a gunshot.

you flinched.

the music didn’t stop, not right away. it dimmed only when the shouting started.

“yo,” someone jeered from the entryway, voice loud and slurred. “what the hell? no invite for us?”

you felt gojo go still beside you. his hand left your knee and curled into a fist as he stood, gaze narrowing.

a ripple of silence spread through the crowd as heads turned toward the intrusion.

there, standing under the dim porch light like a devil in designer, was sukuna.

his bleached pink hair was messy in that practiced way, a silver chain clinking around his neck. tattoos snaked up his arms, ink stark against skin, and his smug grin curled like smoke.

flanking him were a half-dozen beta tau guys, all posturing and laughing, like this was their turf too.

“great,” gojo muttered, barely audible over the silence. “this fucker.”

sukuna's eyes scanned over the crowd, smirking as he saw you. you didn't look, you just kept your head low.

“gojo,” came a new voice, toji, black shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes storm-dark as he pushed through the crowd. “you wanna tell me why beta scum is breathing our air?”

“relax, creatine,” sukuna sneered, lifting his chin. “didn’t know we needed permission to show up at some busted up house party.”

toji grinned, all teeth. “funny. you don’t need permission to show up, but you sure as hell need it to stay.”

sukuna took a step forward. “you trying to start something, fushiguro?”

“what if i am fuck face?”

the crowd shifted, some people backing away, others watching with wide eyes like it was a sport. tension coiled like a loaded spring.

suguru appeared beside toji, brows furrowed, calm but ready, putting a hand on toji’s massive arm. “this isn’t your scene, sukuna. you should leave.”

but sukuna only laughed. “you alpha boys always get soft when there’s girls around. is that what this is? a little date night for gojo and my left overs?”

your body tenses at that, shit, he saw you.

toji’s hand clenched at his side. “watch your mouth.”

“oh?” sukuna turned to him, smug and taunting. “don’t tell me you’re playing guard dog for her too. what, she making rounds through all the frats now?”

before anyone could move, toji closed the distance and shoved sukuna back a step.

“say it again.”

sukuna’s smirk turned feral. “you gonna hit me, asshole?”

toji leaned in, voice low and lethal. “i’ve been waiting to. since the day i watched you drag her out of the kappa mixer like a caveman.”

‘oh, so it was you.’ gojo thought, how did toji know that of all people?

that wiped the smile off sukuna’s face.

he straightened, eyes burning.

“she was mine.”

“no,” gojo said suddenly, voice cold and steady as he stepped between them. “she was never yours.”

sukuna turned to him, expression flickering.

and that’s when it happened.

he looked past gojo. past the crowd.

right at you.

it was like all the air got sucked out of the room.

his eyes, red and sharp like broken glass, locked onto yours, and for a second, you weren’t in the alpha phi house anymore. you were back in his car, staring at the dashboard while he screamed at you. back at that beta tau party, clutching your phone while he pulled you through the hallway like you were furniture. back in his room, being thrown around and told to strip. 'just take it and shut the fuck up.'

you froze.

heart in your throat. nails digging into your palms.

you hadn’t seen him in months, but just like that, the fear came flooding back.

like your body remembered before your mind did.

his mouth moved into something that might’ve passed as a smile to someone else. but you knew better. it wasn’t warmth, it was possession.

“hey, y/n… look at me.”

gojo’s hand touched your back. gentle. grounding.

you blinked.

he had moved back to you, eyes soft even as his jaw was tight. “you okay?”

you swallowed hard and nodded.

but your hands were shaking.

gojo turned back toward sukuna, something deadly in his voice now.

“don’t look at her. don’t talk about her. you don’t even think about her.”

sukuna rolled his eyes. “she’s not yours, dick head.”

“she’s not yours either,” gojo snapped. “and she never fucking will be.”

sukuna’s gaze darkened. “so this is the game now, huh? you’re playing boyfriend?"

gojo’s voice dropped an octave. “no. i’m being a decent person. and if you don’t walk out of here right now, i won’t stop toji from knocking your ass into next semester, regulations be damned.”

the tension was a wire about to snap.

sukuna looked around the room, at toji, suguru, the other frat boys who were closing in, all watching him like a lit fuse. he smiled.

sukuna’s eyes flicked from gojo to you.

that smirk didn’t fade, it sharpened.

“cute,” he sneered. “she’s hiding behind you now. bet you think you’re special.”

toji’s laugh was cold as he stepped into sukuna’s line of sight to obscure his vision of you. “nah, but i know you’re still a pathetic little bitch.”

the room snapped like a tensioned wire.

sukuna’s gaze shifted, deadly now, locking onto toji like a predator who’d just spotted something worth hunting.

“funny,” he said, stepping forward. “you still mad i fucked your girl, or should i say ex?”

toji didn’t respond. he just moved.

in a blur, he grabbed sukuna by the collar and slammed him into the wall. the entire party jolted as the drywall cracked.

“watch your mouth.”

“make me.”

the first punch landed with a crunch, toji’s fist slamming into sukuna’s jaw, hard enough to echo. sukuna staggered, then retaliated, kneeing toji in the ribs before throwing a savage right hook. the force sent toji stumbling into the snack table, knocking red cups and bowls everywhere.

and then it was on.

chaos detonated.

a beta tau brother lunged toward toji from the side, but suguru intercepted, grabbing the guy mid-charge and flipping him over the arm of the couch with a loud thud. another tried to tackle suguru from behind, but choso clotheslined him mid-run, beer bottle still in his other hand like a trophy. (🫦🫦🫦)

gojo’s head snapped around, eyes narrowing as the entire alpha phi living room turned into a war zone.

sukuna and toji were trading blows in the center like heavyweight fighters, each punch drawing blood or bruises. toji’s nose was bleeding now, and sukuna’s mouth was split, but neither was backing down. they circled like rabid dogs.

suguru shoved off another attacker, ducking a wild punch from a tattooed beta tau called shiu. “you guys came here to start shit?” he barked. “seriously? didn’t you get wrecked enough last semester?”

“you talk a lot for a guy who got benched half the season,” shiu hissed, lunging.

suguru cracked him across the cheek with a swift elbow, then ducked to avoid a flailing swing. “still scored higher than your gpa.”

in the corner, nanami had joined the dismay, elegant but deadly, blocking two punches like he’d done this before. “please refrain from bleeding on the rug,” he muttered, landing a clean, punishing jab to someone’s gut. “it’s antique.”

somewhere behind you, you heard glass shatter.

choso yelled something about the tv.

someone screamed “yo! get the baseball bat!—”

you flinched, ducking behind a tipped-over armchair. the room was spinning with bodies, noise, fists, and swearing.

you spotted itadori trying to pull guys apart. “dude, chill—CHILL!” he shouted, physically yanking a beta tau and alpha phi apart. “this is so not frat regulation!”

“frat regulation?” todo huffed, bear pawing someone across the chest. “those fuckers threw that out the window the second they stepped foot in here!”

meanwhile, gojo’s eyes stayed locked on sukuna.

he didn’t even flinch as someone swung at him, he ducked effortlessly, then shoved the guy aside, cutting through the disarray like gravity bent around him.

toji was on the defensive now, blood dripping from his temple. sukuna laughed, manic, high off adrenaline. “thought you were tough,” he goaded, grabbing toji by the hair and trying to knee him in the face.

gojo saw red. toji was his brother, and sukuna was playing dirty.

he moved.

sukuna didn’t even see him coming.

gojo grabbed him by the shoulder and ripped him away from toji, slamming him into the nearest wall so hard a picture frame fell.

“you want someone to fight?” gojo said, voice ice. “try me.”

sukuna spat blood. “finally.”

he lunged.

the two of them crashed into the coffee table, splinters and glass flying as gojo ducked the first blow and returned a brutal one to sukuna’s ribs. they rolled across the floor, fists slamming into flesh, grunts and swears flying.

gojo was everywhere, dodging, striking, blocking with clean precision. sukuna was wilder, bloodier, all rage and ego.

gojo’s knuckles were split. his lip was bleeding.

but he didn’t stop.

“dont even think about laying a hand on her you fucker,” he snarled, slamming sukuna’s head against the floorboards.

sukuna wheezed, grinning through the pain. “so that’s what this is? you fighting for your little toy? mad i fucked her first?”

gojo punched him in the gut.

“she’s not a toy,” he growled. “she’s a fucking person. and you treated her like fucking trash.”

sukuna tried to twist out of his grip, but gojo was faster. he pinned him down again, forearm to his throat.

“look at her,” he hissed. “go ahead. look at what you did.”

sukuna’s eyes flicked toward you.

you were crouched behind the chair still, shaking, pale, your eyes wide and glassy. you weren’t the same girl he’d dragged around like an accessory. you were trembling now, but not in the way he remembered. there was fear, yes.

but there was also disgust.

that finally did it.

sukuna’s grin cracked.

gojo leaned in close. “you don’t scare her anymore. you sicken her.”

the beta tau boys were pulling back now, dragging sukuna off gojo, yelling things about lawsuits and retaliation, but none of them had the stomach for a second round. their leader looked worse than he ever had, bloody, bruised, humiliated on the floor of a rival frat house.

and as gojo stood, breath ragged, fists still curled.

everyone saw the shift.

this wasn’t just a frat brawl anymore.

this was a line being drawn in blood.

suguru was the first to break the silence, glaring at sukuna and his lackies.

“come into our frat uninvited again and you’re getting put on a shirt.”

the beta tau boys scrambled out like rats, half-carrying sukuna, who kept swearing and spitting blood between gasps. one of them shouted something about calling their president. no one cared.

the front door slammed shut behind them.

silence fell like a dropped curtain.

a beer pong ball rolled slowly across the floor and bumped against someone’s shoe.

toji wiped his nose with the back of his hand, blood smearing across his cheek. he was breathing hard, leaning on the wall, chest heaving. suguru stood next to him, knuckles raw, eyes still hard. nanami had already pulled a tie from somewhere and was cinching it around someone’s arm like a tourniquet. choso was picking glass out of his palm and mumbling about his jacket.

“well,” todo grunted, brushing off his shirt. “that escalated.”

gojo didn’t move at first.

he stood in the center of the room, shoulders tense, hands still curled into fists. his lip was bleeding, and one eye was already starting to bruise. he looked like he was barely holding himself together.

until he saw you.

you were still crouched behind the armchair, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes wet.

gojo’s expression cracked.

he crossed the room in three long strides, dropping to his knees in front of you. “hey,” he said softly, voice rough from screaming at sukuna. “sweet girl, you okay?”

you nodded before you even thought about it, but your eyes were trembling.

“look at me.” his hand cupped your face, gentle even though his fingers were scraped raw. “you’re safe. he’s gone. he’s not gonna come close to you ever again.”

you nodded again. but the tears had already started.

he pulled you into his arms.

you went willingly.

the moment you were against his chest, it all broke loose,sobs wracking through you like a wave crashing into shore. you clutched his shirt, buried your face in his neck, and cried like your body had been holding it in for too long.

he didn’t say anything. he just held you. nothing else mattered anymore. not the bet, not sukuna, not anyone. only you.

arms wrapped around you tight, one hand cradling your head, the other stroking slow circles on your back.

“i’m sorry,” you choked. “i didn’t mean to—”

“don’t,” he said immediately, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. “don’t apologize. none of this is your fault.”

“but if i hadn’t—”

“no.” he kissed your forehead, the gesture becoming common nower days. “don’t. he’s the problem. not you.”

you didn’t have the words.

but he didn’t need them.

across the room, suguru was already barking cleanup orders to the uninjured alpha boys. toji was still glaring at the door like he might chase sukuna down the block. nanami was helping itadori corral people who hadn’t left yet.

and in the middle of it all, gojo stayed with you.

sure he was the president, supposed to be helping out, but you were more important to him right now.

his voice was quiet now, just for you. “i’ve got you. okay? nothing’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

you believed him.

for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, you really, truly believed someone would fight for you.

and he had.

bloody knuckles. bruised lip. rage in his voice.

gojo satoru hadn’t just fought for you.

he’d drawn a line.

and he was standing on your side.

the house was quieter now.

not silent, too many people still muttering, too many footsteps creaking on stairs, but the chaos had passed. the storm was over.

gojo didn’t say much as he led you upstairs.

his hand held yours the whole time, warm and steady. a grounding anchor. he opened the door to his room with a wince,his shoulder was already stiff from the fight, but he still managed to flash you a small smile.

you were no stranger to his room by now.

he helped you sit down at the edge of the bed.

“stay right there.”

you watched as he disappeared into his closet and came back with a hoodie, one of his favorites, oversized and navy blue, worn soft from too many washes.

“here.” he held it out. “you’re probably cold.”

you took it with a quiet thank you and tugged it over your head. it smelled like him too. familiar and safe.

gojo crouched in front of you again, reaching out gently. “can i?” he asked, nodding toward your face.

you nodded.

his fingertips brushed your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear. “you’re okay,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “you’re okay, you’re okay…”

you caught his hand before he pulled away. “you’re hurt, satoru.”

he blinked, then looked down at his knuckles like he’d forgotten. they were raw and crusted with blood, split open in places. his lip was cracked, too, and a bruise was starting along his cheekbone.

“i’ve had worse,” he said with a shrug. “toji once clocked me so hard i couldn’t chew for three days.”

you didn’t laugh. your fingers tightened around his.

he sobered instantly. “i’m okay. swear. just a little bruised.”

“you didn’t have to do that,” you whispered. “not for me.”

he sat beside you, close enough that your knees touched. “yes, i did.”

“but—”

“he hurt you,” gojo said quietly. “and i saw it. i saw what it did to you. how scared you were.” his jaw clenched. “you’re the strongest person i know, but no one should ever have to be that strong just to survive someone asshole like him.”

your throat tightened.

“i couldn’t stand there and let him scare you again. not after everything.”

he looked down at his lap, hands resting there, flexing absently. “i’ve never wanted to hit someone so bad in my life, and i know the others hate him too, okay? this is not your fault.”

you leaned into him. slowly. carefully. until your head was against his shoulder and his arm curled around you instinctively.

he held you like that, quiet, steady, heart still racing under his ribs.

“thank you,” you said.

“you don’t have to thank me for loving you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

your heart stopped.

had you heard that right?

was he really talking about love?! you weren't even dating!

you looked up.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t backpedal. just looked at you with that same open, raw expression he always gave you when he meant something with his whole chest.

“i know it’s early,” he said, lips quirking into the tiniest smile. “but i don’t really do the whole slow-burn thing. when i feel something, i feel it all the way.”

your breath hitched.

“so yeah,” he continued. “i love you. and if that means punching my way through a room full of assholes to make sure you’re safe, i’ll do it. every time.”

before your eyes could tear up again, you kissed him.

gently.

like you were learning what softness could be again.

he kissed you back, careful and sweet, one hand cupping your cheek like you were something precious.

when you pulled away, he smiled.

“let’s get some ice on that bruise,” you said, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

“yes ma’am,” he grinned. “but only if you stay and watch the lion king with me.”

“deal.”

you curled up in bed together, legs tangled, your head on his chest, a bag of frozen peas balanced on his face, and a disney movie playing low on his laptop.

safe.

finally, finally safe.

the aftermath hit like the hangover no one wanted to have.

by monday morning, the entire campus was buzzing with one thing and one thing only, the alpha phi party that turned into a free for all.

it was in whispered conversations in lecture halls. it was in blurry snap stories that got deleted after campus admin flagged them. it was in the instagram group chats, the anonymous confession pages, and even the comments section of a rogue post on the university subreddit titled “gojo v. sukuna: ultimate frat showdown (ft. toji ‘breaks drywall for fun’ fushiguro).”

everyone had an opinion.

and no one really knew the full story.

but that didn’t matter.

what mattered was the image: blood on the floor, gojo stepping over sukuna like a final boss, and the way you, silent, shaken, but still standing, had stared down the monster everyone thought was untouchable.

you heard the rumours, but your mind was only filled with what gojo had said to you that night. how he held you in his arms after telling you he loved you. and god, that was all you needed. nothing else mattered,

until it did.

the next morning, sukuna didn’t show up to class.

but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scheming.

in the darkened interior of the beta tau house, sukuna sat with an ice pack pressed to his jaw, eyes unfocused.

he could still feel gojo’s fist in his ribs. still taste blood in the back of his throat. he hadn’t been humiliated like that since—well, ever. not publicly. not in front of half the greek system and the girls who used to throw themselves at his feet.

now?

now he was the villain in everyone’s story.

and he hated it.

“yo, you good?” asked jogo, dropping onto the couch with a protein shake in hand.

“no,” sukuna snapped. “fuck off.”

“dude, we tried to tell you, alpha phi doesn’t fuck around.”

sukuna ignored him.

he needed leverage. a way to claw back what was his, not the frat clout, not even the fear. you.

you had looked at him like he was nothing.

and that cut deeper than any punch gojo could throw.

he stood, ice pack hitting the floor. he needed air, or maybe just silence. something to stop the buzzing in his brain. he headed toward the back patio, lit a cigarette he didn’t even want, and stepped into the cold.

that’s when he heard it.

voices, just beyond the hedges by the fire pit.

two guys walking past to the gym situated next to the beta tau house.

toji’s voice, low, unmistakable, smug.

“—i still can’t believe you let that shit get out. gojo bet on her dude. 2000 dollars. now he’s head over heels.”

a scoff. choso.

“i don’t think gojo was thinking straight. he wasn’t supposed to fall for her.”

sukuna froze.

toji again. “yeah, well, now he’s acting like she’s the love of his life. not just some stupid bet.”

sukuna stepped closer, just behind the stone column.

choso grunted. “shit was supposed to be a joke. he was supposed to bag the shy girl, throw her a bone, and dip. i didn’t think he was even interested at first.”

“until she got cute.”

“yeah, or until sukuna started sniffing around.”

toji laughed. “classic gojo. can’t let anything belong to someone else. i like y/n tho, she's cool. got that whole girl next door thing going, didn't mind gettin abit bloodied up over her.”

sukuna’s hand curled around the edge of the wall.

there it was.

the angle.

the weapon.

he didn’t need fists. he didn’t need revenge porn or threats or violence.

he needed truth.

or what sounded close enough to it.

by mid-week, the whispers about the fight had started mutating.

what started as 'gojo beat sukuna’s ass for being a creep' turned into 'gojo’s just territorial' and then warped into 'gojo and sukuna fought over some bet girl.'

sukuna was playing his cards well, whispering things to all the sorority chicks that still hung around him. he knew how they liked to gossip.

'gojo bet on some girl?'

you weren’t even the first to hear it, from yuki. she had sent you a post from a confession page of your university.

'i heard that gojo was only with that girl at the party because he bet $100 on her. that’s rough!'

another one stated.

'i knew gojo didn’t actually turn soft for some quiet wall flower. i mean come on, he’s a slut, that was never a thing.'

you swallowed as you read some more.

'yep, 100% a bet. and he’s winning so far, she seems like a clueless fucking idiot, still walking around with him like some lost puppy.'

you felt suffocated, your world was slowly darkening as your eyes went dull. of course this wasn’t real, he wasn't real. of course.

you shut off your phone, ignoring the sweet messages gojo was sending you. maybe that’s why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, he was never planning on longevity. he told you he loved you to keep you on your toes, and god damnit it worked.

you weren’t going to be strung along any longer. you promised yourself you were going to stop hoping for a change in men, especially ones like satoru. the heart break you were feeling wasn’t anything like when you were sukuna. it was more crushing, more defeating. like you were really just some stupid idiot who got played by the notorious satoru gojo.

one thing you knew for sure, you were done with satoru gojo.

the rumors were like weeds.

and gojo could feel them curling around his ankles.

every hallway he walked down came with a wave of hushed tones. every class, every lunch line, every stop at the rec center. he could see it in the way people glanced at him, more curious than impressed now.

he didn’t care about his reputation. he cared about yours.

and when he caught two girls in the library whispering your name followed by the words 'pity project', he saw red.

he slammed the book in his hands shut, making them jump.

“is there something you want to say to my face?” he asked, calm but dangerous.

they didn’t. of course they didn’t.

but the damage was done.

he needed to find suguru.

suguru was in the alpha phi common room, looking worse for wear, one knuckle taped, a gash on his jaw.

he looked up when gojo stormed in.

“yo.”

gojo didn’t respond right away. he just threw a screenshot down on the coffee table.

it was from an anonymous confessions page.

'the only reason gojo’s simping over her is cause of some bet. sucks she thought it was legit. pretty brutal.'

suguru stared.

then sighed. “fuck.”

“yeah,” gojo snapped. “fuck.”

“i didn’t say anything. i swear. neither did nanami or choso. i—I don’t even think toji would’ve. not to sukuna.”

gojo’s jaw ticked. “someone did.”

suguru was silent.

“do you know how this looks?” gojo hissed. “she was scared, suguru. she saw that bastard’s face and shut down. and now she’s the one being dragged for it?”

“i know.”

“she’s not even talking to me.”

suguru blinked. “what?”

gojo dropped onto the couch, ran a hand through his hair. “she won’t answer. i’ve been texting her since sunday. she's left me on read.”

“shit.”

gojo stared at the floor.

“i never really thought about that bet,” he muttered. “i never even thought about her like that at first. i didn’t even want to be part of that stupid shit.”

“i know you didn’t.”

“i thought if i just stayed quiet, it wouldn’t touch her. but i was already in too deep.”

suguru nodded slowly. “and now sukuna’s using it.”

“yeah.”

silence.

then suguru stood. “we’ll fix it.”

gojo looked up.

“you’re not the same guy you were when you shook on it. she knows that. she’s just… scared. and not just of him. she’s scared of being played again. of being humiliated.”

“i would never—”

“i know. but she doesn’t. not completely. not yet.”

gojo swallowed. “so what do i do?”

“tell her everything. the whole story. before that bastard sukuna does.”

sukuna didn’t go for a direct attack.

no.

he started planting seeds.

a stray comment at a mixer: “gojo really did that, huh?”

a post on his burner account: “it’s crazy how guys can fake a personality just long enough to win a bet.”

and then the cherry on top: a note slipped under your dorm door.

no name. no return address.

just a single sentence:

ask him if you’re worth $2000.

you read it twenty times, hands trembling.

you didn’t know what it meant in this context, but you knew who “him” was.

and suddenly, the rumours, the whispers, the edge in toji’s voice the night of the party, it all clicked into place.

you’d been a bet.

a checklist item.

you had guessed as much, but this note seemed to really put things into perspective…

you had never felt so humiliated, so torn.

about two weeks had passed.

the weight of it hit him hardest in the quiet moments, when his phone buzzed and it wasn’t you. when he passed your building and saw your window dark when he'd go on walks at night around campus, when his own reflection in the mirror stared back hollow-eyed and bruised, with no one to hold his jaw and tell him to sit still while they pressed frozen peas to his face.

gojo had never been afraid of much. not pain, not humiliation, not even losing. but the thought of losing you? of you thinking even for a second that he’d played you, used you, humiliated you? that fucking petrified him.

he sat at the edge of his bed now, elbows on his knees, fingers laced and red from stress. the party lights, the noise, the crowd’s laughter, they were all static now. all he could think about was how soft your voice had sounded when you said he didn’t have to fight for you. and how wrong you were.

he had to fight. because he’d failed you once already, the moment he’d let a stupid, careless bet ruin the bond you two shared.

the more he learned about you, the less he could stomach the bet. you made him want to be better. softer. real. you didn’t give a shit about clout, didn’t care about who he was to everyone else, you looked at him like he was just a guy. and for the first time in his life, that was all he wanted to be.

just your guy.

but now you were gone. and he didn’t blame you, how could he?

what he’d said the night of the fight wasn’t a performance. it wasn’t just adrenaline. he meant every word. he loved you. loved the way you spoke when you finally let your voice rise. loved the way you always folded your hands in your lap when you were nervous. loved how fiercely you loved, even when you were afraid to.

now he had to prove it.

step one: own it. no dodging. no half-truths. if he wanted to make things right, he had to be honest, about the bet, about how it started, about when it stopped being a bet.

he started with a letter.

not a text, not a dm. handwritten. honest. the kind of vulnerability he used to flinch from.

he didn’t overthink it. he just wrote.

' hey,

i don’t even know how to start this. i’ve written and rewritten this stupid thing a dozen times... every version sounded either too rehearsed or too pathetic. but i guess when you screw up as bad as i did, there’s no pretty way to say it.

you deserve the truth. the real one. not the half-story people are whispering about. not the twisted version sukuna is spreading. and definitely not the one where you end up painted as a joke.

so here it is.

when i first asked for your number, that wasn't the first time i had seen you. it was actually a few days before and you were sitting alone under an oak tree at the cafe we had our first hang out at. you looked so fucking breathtaking y/n. never in my damn life had i looked at someone and felt that captured by them. you just existed in your own quiet world, and somehow that made me want to crash into it.

but i didn’t. not right away.

because i didn’t know how to approach someone like you. someone real. someone who looked as fragile and beautiful as you. so i just ignored it, ignored you. it was easier than being the guy who gets too attached, who feels too much. the guy who ends up caring more than he should. and god, i thought about you all day, and my friends were starting to notice.

then came the bet.

it was stupid. it started as a joke between suguru and choso. something like, “gojo is thinking too heavy about this girl he hasn't even made a move on yet, how comical.” i laughed it off. i always do with them. but then it became a thing. they threw money down, $500. said i couldn’t get you to sleep with me.

and i should’ve shut it down. right then. i should’ve said no, sweetheart. i should of said no.

but i didn’t.

i quadrupled it. because i felt my whole take a hit. it's so fuckijg stupid, i know. i said 2 grand says i can sleep with her by the end of may, and me and suguru shook on it.

i did it because part of me was curious. not about winning, about you. the bet was just a personal excuse to get myself to actually work up the nerve to speak to you.

so yeah. that’s the ugly truth.

it started with a bet.

but that’s not where it stayed.

because from the moment i actually talked to you, really talked to you, i felt like an idiot. you weren’t some game or conquest. you were funny in this adorable, shy way that made me want to cradle you and keep you in my arms forever. you said what you meant, in the most sincere and honestly cute way. you made me want to be quiet just to hear what you’d say next.

and somewhere in there, i forgot about the bet.

it wasn’t important anymore. it wasn’t even a thing in my head. not when you smiled at me for the first time. not when you let me walk you home. not when you touched my hand like it meant something, when we spent all this nights curled up on my bed watching movies together.

i never told you about it because i was ashamed. because i didn’t want that to be the lens you saw me through. and maybe that was selfish. maybe i should’ve come clean earlier. but i kept thinking 'i’ll tell her tomorrow. i’ll tell her when she knows me better. when she knows i’d rather bleed on a frat house floor than see her scared again.'

but then, somehow sukuna found out.

and i knew it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.

he got his ego stomped on when the fight broke out and he weaponised what he heard to the max. spreading the rumour like wild fire.

that note he left you? yeah, i knew the second you got it. yuki called me and screamed at me for hurting you so bad. you didn’t answer my texts for two days after, and i felt like i couldn’t breathe. i know that sounds dramatic. but you don’t understand, you were my air. the first thing i thought about when i woke up, the last before i crashed at night. every time you touched me, i wanted to ask if i was dreaming.

and now? i’ve lost the right to even text you without a response.

so here it is. all of it.

i didn’t kiss you because of a bet. i kissed you because i was falling. hard. i told you i loved you that night because i meant it. i would’ve said it again the next morning. and the one after that.

i didn’t ask you to be mine yet because i was scared. i know, me, satoru gojo, scared. but i was. you made me want things i never thought i could have. a quiet morning. a bond full of love and trust instead of a fling full of lust. a life that didn’t revolve around proving anything to anyone.

and i thought maybe i had time. time to earn your trust. to show you i wasn’t just another frat guy who got lucky with a pretty girl.

but i don’t have time anymore, do i?

because now you think i lied to you. played you. used you like some kind of trophy.

and maybe i deserve that, because it's true, and i know how fucked uo what i did was.

maybe i’ll never be able to wipe that stain from us.

but i needed you to know it was real. you are real. every second i spent with you, every laugh, every night we talked until your eyes drifted closed against my chest, that was mine. that was ours.

i love you.

not because you’re the kind of girl a guy wins bets over, but because you’re the kind of girl a guy loses them for.

and i would lose that bet a hundred times over if it meant i got to hold you once more.

if you never want to see me again, i get it. i do.

but if there’s any part of you that still believes in me,still believes in us, then come to me.

even if you don’t show, i’ll sit and wait. for as long as it takes.

—satoru '

he folded it carefully, wrote your name on the outside, and dropped it at your dorm with the gentlest knock he could manage.

he went to yuki. he apologised for the way this all dragged you through the mud. asked her, quietly, if she’d let you know his letter was waiting. not to pressure you, just so you knew.

then he called in a favor from shoko, who ran the school’s unofficial gossip-stopper group chat. a screenshot from her burner account landed on every platform within hours.

'bet or not, gojo’s been yearning for this girl for weeks, defending her name even after everything came out. maybe ask why sukuna’s the one pushing the narrative so much? is he jealous? vengeful after his beat down the other night?.'

it didn’t make the problem go away, but it made people pause from the constant gossip.

gojo knew it wouldn’t be a single moment of redemption. no one cheers for a frat boy with a redemption arc. and that was fine. this wasn’t about them.

he still brought you a cup of your favorite coffee the next morning. left it outside your door with a napkin under it.

he wrote: 'still here. still yours. —s.g.'

he still paused outside your classes, just to make sure you were getting in okay.

he still left you space.

because he knew this was going to be on your terms now.

he had made damn sure of that.

and if you never opened the letter, never texted back, never looked at him again, then he’d carry that.

because the only thing worse than losing you was knowing he’d made you feel small. made you feel like a bet when you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

but if you did open that letter… if there was even a chance you’d let him say it all to your face, he’d be waiting. always.

because loving you wasn’t a game, it was the end of one.

and the start of everything else.

you read the letter once.

then twice.

by the third time, your tears were soaking into the ink.

your chest hurt, tight and aching, like it might collapse in on itself. because this—this—felt more honest than anything you’d ever been given before. raw and bleeding. scared and unfiltered.

the silence in your dorm room was thick.

you reached for your phone with a trembling hand.

it had lit up earlier with his name, his sweet messages, each one ignored in your panic and heartbreak. you hadn’t even read the last few.

now, you scrolled through them with a new lens.

gojo: hey. i miss you.

gojo: please just let me explain.

gojo: i didn’t mean to hurt you. i swear.

gojo: you’re not some bet. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

your heart cracked.

you grabbed the note again, fingers brushing the last line: even if you don’t show, i’ll sit and wait.

it was nearly 9:30pm, you didn’t even think, you just moved.

sweatpants. hoodie. the jacket he once draped over your shoulders without asking.

you left your dorm and ran, not because you forgave him. not yet. but because something deep inside you, some aching, lonely, tender part, wanted to believe that love could still be real, even after it started wrong. and maybe, just maybe, gojo satoru was brave enough to prove it.

you didn’t knock.

you couldn’t.

your hands were trembling too hard. your thoughts were a storm, your pulse a drumbeat in your throat. you stood outside the alpha phi frat for longer than you cared to admit, the cold biting at your fingers, that letter clenched tight in your hand like it might vanish if you let go.

you didn’t know what you were expecting.

fireworks? rain? a crowd?

maybe you thought he wouldn’t be here.

but when you opened the door (it was always unlocked), quiet, slow, he was right there.

sitting on the steps inside the house, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed like he’d been carved from stillness.

like he’d been waiting.

you didn’t say anything at first.

just stood in the entryway, frozen, every breath in your lungs trying to claw its way out.

he looked up.

his eyes met yours.

and your whole world stopped.

his lips parted, like he wasn’t sure you were real.

like he’d imagined this moment too many times, and now that it was happening, he was scared to believe it.

“hey, y/n,” he said, voice low, soft.

barely a whisper. barely air.

your throat closed up.

you should’ve had something prepared. something biting, something powerful, something that would make him feel everything you’d felt, betrayal, grief, confusion. but all of it collapsed in on itself the second he looked at you like that. like you were everything.

you swallowed.

“satoru... can we? talk?” you whispered.

his eyes burned.

“anytime,” he said. “always.”

he stood, slow, like he didn’t want to spook you. like one wrong move might send you running again. he gave you space. didn’t step too close. didn’t reach for you, even though you could see the tremor in his hands, he wanted to.

he just didn’t think he was allowed.

you looked around. the common room was empty, the TV still glowing with some paused menu screen. papers were scattered on the table. a water bottle. someone’s hoodie.

so normal. so stupidly normal.

your gaze snapped back to him.

his face looked worse up close. the bruise on his cheek was fading yellow now, and there was a scratch just beneath his jaw that looked like it hadn’t healed right.

he didn’t say anything. just watched you, waiting.

you lifted the letter. “i read it.”

he nodded once, slow. “okay.”

you searched for words.

but your chest was full of thunder and broken glass, and everything that wanted to come out was a sob or a scream.

“was it true?” you asked, finally.

his eyes didn’t leave yours. “every word.”

you clutched the paper tighter.

“you bet on me,” you said. “you made me into some stupid game.”

his breath caught.

“i didn’t know you then,” he said. “i didn’t—i didn’t even want to be part of that shit. i just—i was trying to keep things easy. and then you walked into my life and everything stopped being easy.”

you blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears building behind your eyes. “so you just… forgot to tell me?”

he flinched like you’d slapped him.

“i was scared,” he admitted, voice breaking. “i didn’t want to lose you. i thought if i never brought it up, if i just showed you how much i cared, then maybe it wouldn’t matter.”

“but it does matter,” you said, finally letting your voice crack. “it matters so much, satoru. i trusted you. you were one of the only people i could actually talk to without getting choked up and nervous..."

he nodded. once. hard.

“i know.”

“i let you in. i—I believed you when you said you loved me.”

“i meant it,” he said, desperate. “i still mean it. i love you. i didn’t even know it was love until it was too late and i was already in too deep and—”

you stepped forward. “you don’t get to say that just to fix it.”

he stopped.

you were close enough to touch now. your fingers ached to reach for him, but your heart couldn’t move.

not yet.

“you don’t get to write me a beautiful letter and stand here and wait and think that’s enough.”

he swallowed, throat bobbing.

“it’s not enough,” he said. “i know that.”

you looked at him, really looked at him.

the boy with the cocky grin and stupidly beautiful eyes. the boy who wore his heart like armor until he ripped it open for you. the boy who bled for you. fought for you. lied to protect a truth he didn’t know how to tell.

“i thought you were different,” you whispered.

“i am,” he said. “because of you.”

you shook your head, blinking back tears. “you hurt me.”

he stepped forward this time. just one pace. close, but not too close.

“then let me fix it.”

your bottom lip trembled.

he reached out, slow, trembling, and took your hand, folding it gently into his.

“please,” he said. “i know i don’t deserve a second chance. i know i fucked this up. but if there’s even one part of you that still believes in what we had—”

“have,” you said quietly. “not had.”

his breath caught.

your voice was shaking. “i don’t want to stop feeling this. i don’t want to pretend you don’t mean something to me. i just, I need to know it’s real. that i wasn’t some project. some stupid fucking conquest for your frat friends to laugh at.”

he stepped in.

this time you let him.

his hands cupped your face so gently it almost undid you his soft fingers cascading over your delicate cheeks.

“you are everything to me,” he whispered, forehead leaning into yours. “this isn’t a game. it never was. not after i met you, sweetheart.”

your breath hitched.

“you made me want to be better,” he said. “and i know that’s such a tired fucking line, but it’s true. you... you saw something in me no one else ever tried to. and i want to spend the rest of my life earning that.”

you closed your eyes.

and the tears slipped out anyway.

he kissed them away, feather-light, mouth trembling against your cheek.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed. “for the bet. for the silence. for letting someone like sukuna get in your head. i should’ve protected you better. told you sooner. i should’ve told the world you were mine and never let them question it.”

“i’m not yours,” you whispered.

he froze.

but you lifted your hand and pressed it to his chest.

“not yet,” you said. “but i want to be.”

his breath left him like he’d been shot.

and then he kissed you.

not with hunger, not with fire—but with devotion.

soft and slow, like a promise being made with lips instead of words.

you kissed him back, fingers curling into his hoodie, anchoring yourself in the only thing that felt steady.

him.

when you broke apart, he pressed his forehead to yours again, both of you breathing like you’d just run a marathon through hell.

“so,” you said, voice wobbling, “this is the part where you ask me to be your girlfriend y'know..."

he laughed, breathless, eyes wet. “fuck, no. i’m way past that.”

your brows rose as you looked up at him through your pretty lashes.

“i’m asking you to let me start over,” he said. “properly. no bets. no lies. just… me. loving you. no matter how long it takes for you to trust me again.”

you stared at him for a long moment.

then: “okay.”

his breath caught.

“okay?”

“yeah,” you said, smiling, watery but real. “okay. one slow start.”

he laughed again, and it broke open something beautiful in your chest.

and when he hugged you, arms around your waist, your face buried in his neck, you held on like maybe, just maybe, this time love was something worth holding onto.

later that night, you sat curled into him on his bed, still in your hoodie and sweats, with a bag of chips between you and the Lion King playing very quietly in the back.

he had one arm around you, the other lazily twirling your hair.

“i was going to show up outside your dorm like a rom-com loser,” he mumbled.

“you kinda are a rom-com loser,” you teased, leaning into him.

he grinned, that stupid, perfect, heart-cracking grin. “yeah, but i’m your rom-com loser now.”

you rolled your eyes, but didn’t deny it.

because yeah.

he was.

your eyes softened as you curbed into his touch.

"i missed you, toru."

he let out a soft laugh. "toru, huh? only suguru calls me that. it's cute coming from your pretty little mouth."

you giggled and kissed his cheek.

'god, this is bliss.' he thought.

he finnaly had you. all to himself. no stupid bet hanging over his head, no sukuna swimming around in the shadows waiting to pounce, and no expectations.

just you, and him.

you don’t know when the laughter fades.

you’re still curled into him, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. the ice cream’s melted, the movie’s long since ended, but neither of you moved, not really. just soft touches, occasional whispers 'i love you', the silence warm instead of heavy.

his fingers trace lazy shapes against your back.

your hand plays with the hem of his shirt.

and somewhere between a breath and a heartbeat, everything shifts.

his touch lingers a second longer. your fingers slip beneath the fabric, barely there, but enough to make his breath catch.

he tilts his head, just enough to look down at you.

you meet his gaze.

and the air between you thickens.

your lips part, but you don’t say anything. don’t need to. not when his eyes are already dropping to your mouth, like he’s waiting for permission.

you give it without a word.

his kiss this time is different.

not soft. not slow.

hungry.

like the dam finally cracked and all the restraint he’s been holding back with both hands floods loose.

your hands slip up his shirt, palms skating over warm skin and muscle, and he groans against your mouth, low and wrecked, like he’s been dreaming of this.

he pulls back, just enough to search your face.

“are you sure?”

your heart stutters.

you nod. “i want you, toru.”

his expression twists, like that means more to him than it should.

“you have me,” he says, voice rough, reverent. “every part.”

he kisses you again, and this time he lays you back, gentle but firm, like he’s terrified you’ll vanish if he isn’t careful.

and when his mouth trails down your neck, hands slipping beneath the hem of your hoodie, he looks up one last time,

waiting.

you nod again.

this time, he doesn’t stop.

his nips became focused, pulling adorably pornographic moans from your sweet mouth, groaning himself at the sounds.

he made his way down your neck and whispered the softest, sweetest words you'd ever heard during intimate moments like these.

'god, y/n you're perfect sweet heart...' 'you look so pretty baby girl.' 'so sweet for me'

he gently lifted up your hoodie, removing your clothes like he was worshipping a goddess. he feathered his fingers over your skin, taking in your half naked body with hungry yet appreciating eyes. you stared at him as if you were waiting for him to hurry up and tear your underwear and bra off, but he didn't. he traced his fingers up and down your sides.

"are you comfortable taking these off baby? we can leave them on if it makes you feel better."

your eyes almost welled over with tears. almost.

because it wasn’t the question itself, it was the way he asked it. like it mattered. like you mattered. like your comfort was just as important as his desire.

you nodded slowly, shyly, a little embarrassed by how much that question meant to you.

“yeah,” you whispered, barely audible. “i want you to see all of me.”

his eyes searched yours for a beat longer, just to be sure. then he leaned down and kissed your temple so gently it made your chest ache.

“thank you,” he murmured, brushing your hair back. “for trusting me.”

you couldn’t look at him when you slid your underwear off. not at first. heat burned at the tips of your ears, your throat going tight as you lay back against the pillows, arms twitching with the instinct to cover yourself.

but then you felt his hand slip into yours.

“hey,” he said softly, coaxing your gaze back to his. “you don’t have to hide. you’re… god, you’re beautiful.”

you swallowed hard. the raw way he looked at you made you feel fragile, but not in a bad way. in a held way. like he wasn’t going to break you. like he’d never even try.

“it’s okay,” he added, brushing the backs of his fingers along your cheek. “i know it’s different. i know he—” his jaw twitched, but he caught himself. “you don’t have to be scared of being touched anymore. not like that.

you blinked up at him, breathing shaky.

“it wasn’t always rough with him,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “at first, he made me feel wanted. and then… he started pulling away. touching me when i didn’t want it. saying it was my fault if i wasn’t in the mood.”

gojo’s expression darkened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“he said i was cold,” you added, eyes fluttering shut. “and selfish. that if i really cared, i’d let him—” your voice cracked. “so i started pretending to want it. just to make him happy.”

you waited for disgust. for pity. for him to recoil.

but all you got was a fierce, aching tenderness.

he kissed the center of your chest, right over your heartbeat, and stayed there for a long moment.

“you never deserved that,” he said finally, voice thick with emotion. “none of it. you weren’t selfish, you were scared. and he used that. twisted it.”

his hands cupped your sides, warm and steady.

“i’m not him, y/n. and this isn’t about proving anything. it’s just us. just this moment. and if you ever want to stop—if you even flinch—i’ll hold you and we’ll watch cartoons instead. deal?”

you laughed, choked and watery, but a real laugh all the same.

“deal,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his messy white hair.

he kissed you again, slow and sweet and grounding.

and as his lips moved back down your body, there was no rush. no pressure. just love, in every brush of his fingertips, in every kiss he pressed to your bare skin, in every gentle whisper that reminded you this time was different.

because this time, you were safe.

this time, you were wanted, not as an obligation, or a trophy, or a conquest.

but as you.

and god, gojo satoru was going to make sure you never forgot it.

he too took off his clothes, peeling back his shirt along with his sweat pants. your eyes blew out at just how gorgeous he was. he was smooth, pale, clean. like his body was sculpted up in the heavens by an old greek-man. he was a stark difference to sukuna. he was leaner, prettier. no tattoos to hide a fragile ego behind, no flashy clothing. just him, and the delicate silver chain he always wore that seemed to perfectly reflect his persona.

you found yourself running your hand over his chest. he smiled and cupped your cheek. with the both of you now naked, satoru had you pulled right against his body as he kissed every naked inch. he made his way down to your adorably perky nipple, taking one into his mouth, and rolling it on his tounge, earning a long drawn out whine from you. he could feel his cock ache with each little moan, every little twitch of your body.

he trained his tongue down your torso slowly until he was down by your heat. he looked up at you, smiling softly as he slowly prayed your legs open, holding your lower calf and kissing the inside of your ankle.

'you're perfect.'

you were starting to get embarrassed at how sensual he was being, but god did it feel good. you couldn't help the groan that escaped your mouth when he started massaging the plush skin of your bare thigh, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy.

"awhh baby, you're so wet for me. didn't know something as cute as you could get so messy." he teased, moving his hands higher and higher up your thighs until his long finger tips were brushing over the skin of your labia. his fingers were like electricity. he hadn't even gotten to the sweet part yet but you could feel a tight coil tightening in your stomach. he was going tantalisingly slow, licking his lips as he ran his fingers over everywhere but your clit.

you looked up at him with shy eyes, like you wanted, needed to ask him to keep going.

he just smirked, looking down at you with eyes full of a bubbly kind of lust, he was high on the moment.

"what is it baby girl? you need me to do something?"

you covered your mouth out of habit, nodding shyly as you fought the urge to just grab his hand and place the pads of his fingers over your clit yourself.

''oh yeah? what is it sweetheart? you seem a bit hot and bothered. want me to touch... here?" as soon as the words left his mouth his middle finger pressed down hard on your clit, finally letting you release the choked up moan you were holding in. he smirked even wider as he started rolling the sensitive bud under his finger. "you look so fucking cute... squirming around just from a little pressure? wonder what you'll do when i actually slam my cock into this pretty little hole..."

you almost choked at how vulgar he suddenly got, nothing like the soft satoru you were used to but god, it was hot. all sense of slowness disappeared after that moment, and satoru, without warning, slammed two of his long thick fingered up into your tight little hole.

"f-fuck! t-toru oh my-"

you couldn't finnish, strangled moans was all that came out of your mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out with precision and skill. "gonna make you feel so good honey. so fucking good."

he curled his fingers, hitting that spongy spot deep inside your cunt making you gasp and grab at his navy bed sheets. he moved his head down and begun to suck on your clit with his long tongue rolling it backwards and forth. you were shaking from the pleasure, right coils about to burst inside your stomach were becoming harder to ignore as you moaned louder and louder, the shy girl everyone knew was long gone as your silky voice became wracked with pretty moans. satoru lied into your pussy as he felt you start to get closer and closer, he missed your clit and picked up the pace with his fingers, making you groan and cry out. 'toru- you're hah amazing... holy shit you're so- fuck- good!"

his eyes rolled back at the sound of your voice, slamming his fingers deeper inside, finger fucking you so good. "s-shit toru! i'm gonna- i'm gonna!"

he didn't let you finnish, he sucked harder on your clit and fucked his fingers impossibly deeper, finally, you came undone all over his chin.

he looked very pleased, still staring at your cunt with heart eyes.

he was quick to lap up every drop, sucking your entrance with a satisfied groan.

"shit- y/n... your pussy is so perfect baby. you're so fucking perfect. need to fuck you honey- so bad."

as you caught your breath, body slightly shaking beneath him, you watched as he sat up, pulling off his boxers to reveal the most perfect cock you had ever seen... it was long, with a red angry tip already covered in translucent pre. he smiled as he watched you stare with wide eyes.

"think you can handle it sweet thing? if it's too much we can always-"

"no! no. i want you toru. i want you so bad, please fuck me."

the look of disbelief on satoru's face was priceless. never in a million years did he expect such a blunt statement from the shy girl he grew to knew, but holy fuck, was his cock 10x harder now.

"as you wish, precious."

he took his position back inbetween your legs, hovering over you. he placed one hand beside your head, the other on his aching cock.

"i'll go slow baby. just relax for me sweet girl, i'll make you feel so good."

he was honest, he slipped the tip in slowly, you let out small moans as it stretches you out, he kissed your temple as he whispered reassurance in your ear.

'you can take it baby.' 'you can do it y/n'

he slid the rest of his length in, bottoming out with a deep groan.

"so fucking tight."

you could only manage hiss through clenched teeth, you felt so deliciously full. he looked into your eyes for permission to move, and the look of pure lust he got in return was all he needed before he started to slowing thrust on and out of your perfectly tight heat.

your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he pushed his hips down further and further into you, pinning you down in a mating press. you could form no words as he picked up his pace, the only noise coming from your mouth was strings of moans, 'nnnghh- toru!' 'f-fuck- so good- i-'

he held your hips as he pounded deeper and deeper, holding you still as he abused your g-spot. your velvety walls clenched around his long cock, making him grunt with each thrust. "holy fucking shit y/n hah, so good for me, so fucking good for me baby. holy fuckkk you're so goddamn tight- hah!."

he slammed into you at a feverish pace, you could feel your world dizzying as his movements fucked into you in all the right places. he was so dominant, yet so gentle. his pace was controlled, his hands didn't grip you crushingly, and he peppered small kisses over your forehead as he thrusted in and out. it was perfect.

"baby- fuck- you're so pretty like this honey. so cute looking so fucked out for me- hah-"

you bit your lip as you tried to respond, but your climax was coming too quick, you couldn't even think. a hand flew to his shoulder as you squeezed tightly. satoru could feel your walls closing in harder on his cock, and he smiled knowing you were close. he rutted his hips deeper, faster, chasing your high like it was the only thing that mattered, because to him? it did. your pleasure was the only thing concerning him.

he looked into your eyes and saw them dilate, you were right on the edge.

"cmon baby. you can do it sweetheart- cum for me- cum for toru baby. you can do it-"

his words sent a shiver down your spine as you let out a loud and very sexy moan, your high crashing over you like a tidal wave. satorus came not long after, he pulled out quickly and stroked his length, coming undone onto your lower belly.

you were too fucked out to notice, you had just revived the best dicking down of your damn life.

before he had a chance to calm down, satoru was already grabbing for wet wipe beside his bed to clean you up. he wiped the cum off of your body and kissed your forehead softly.

"sorry for not cumming in a tissue baby, i just-"

"shh toru. it's fine, it's fine, i'm on birth control you could of just finished inside."

you smiled up at him as his sorrowful expression faded. he chukled and kissed your cheek. "i'll keep that in mind sweetheart."

he rushed off to grab a hot cloth and came back, tenderly washing off your body as he whispered sweet words into your ear.

'you were so perfect baby.' 'that was so perfect.'

your head was tucked under his chin, your body still humming from the moment you’d just shared. the room was dim, washed in gold from the lamp on his desk. the covers were tangled around your legs, your skin still warm where his hands had touched you like you were something breakable. something precious.

you were quiet, heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to break free, like it didn’t quite believe it was safe yet.

gojo’s fingers traced idle patterns along your back, slow and feather-light, like he didn’t want to disturb the silence but still needed to be connected to you somehow. his other hand was curled around yours where it rested between your chests, your fingers interlocked like the spaces between them had been made just for this.

“you okay?” he asked softly, breath warm against your hair.

you nodded.

then, after a moment, you whispered, “i didn’t know it could be like that.”

his hand paused, then resumed its path over your skin. “like what?”

“gentle.”

your voice was so small, so fragile, he almost missed it.

gojo’s chest rose and fell in a slow, steady breath. “was it too much?”

“no,” you said quickly. “no, it was… it was perfect.”

you pressed your face into his chest, ashamed of the tears building in your eyes. you weren’t supposed to be crying right now, not after something like that. but you couldn’t help it. your body was still trying to reconcile softness with safety. intimacy with kindness.

his arms tightened around you instantly.

“talk to me,” he murmured.

you hesitated. “with sukuna… it was never like this.”

gojo didn’t speak, just waited, patient and still.

“it was always rough. like he didn’t care if it hurt. like he wanted it to.” you swallowed hard. “he used to tell me i was lucky he even wanted me. like i should be grateful.”

gojo’s jaw clenched under your cheek, but his touch never changed. he didn’t pull away. didn’t interrupt.

“he didn’t see me,” you whispered. “not really. not like you do.”

gojo kissed the top of your head, long and slow. “i see you,” he said quietly. “i see everything. and i want all of it.”

your throat tightened.

“you’re not something to be tolerated, or controlled, or used,” he said. “you’re not here to make someone feel bigger by making yourself smaller. not anymore. not with me.”

you clutched his hand a little tighter.

“you don’t have to thank me for being kind to you,” he added after a moment. “that should’ve been your bare minimum. and i hate that it wasn’t.”

his voice cracked at the edges, like he was holding something in.

you looked up slowly.

his eyes were red-rimmed, glassy with unshed tears. “i hate that he made you feel like you were hard to love.”

your chest broke open.

“you’re not,” he said. “you’re easy to love. so easy, i don’t even know when it happened. it just… did.”

your lip trembled. “i was so scared to want this. to want you.”

“i know,” he said softly. “but you’re safe now. i promise.”

he kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose—each one slower than the last, like he was memorizing you piece by piece.

“you can be quiet,” he murmured. “you can be shy. you can be soft, and unsure, and afraid. i’ll still be here.”

you let the tears fall then. not because you were broken, but because you were healing. and healing always hurt a little.

he wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs, then pulled you even closer, if that was possible.

“do you want to talk about him?” gojo asked gently. “or anything else?”

you were quiet for a long time. then, your voice barely audible:

“there was this one night… i said i was too tired. it was finals week and i hadn’t slept in two days. i could barely keep my eyes open, and he just... he laughed. said, ‘too tired? who the hell do you think you are?’ and then he grabbed my arm.”

gojo didn’t speak, didn’t even breathe too loud.

“he didn’t hit me,” you said quickly. “not that night. but he left bruises on my wrist from how tight he held me. and after… he made me apologize. said i was being dramatic. that i needed to learn my place.”

a sound tore from gojo’s throat then, low and wrecked.

your breath hitched, embarrassed suddenly, but he leaned in, touched his forehead to yours.

“you never had to earn love,” he said fiercely. “and you never deserved that. not ever.”

you looked at him, eyes shimmering.

“you’re not dramatic. you’re not wrong for needing rest. or comfort. or boundaries.” he touched your hand where it rested on his chest. “you don’t ever have to explain why something hurt. if it hurt, that’s enough. that’s valid.”

your lips parted, stunned by how simple he made it sound. how obvious.

“i’m so sorry you went through that,” he whispered. “but you’re not alone anymore.”

you nodded, voice thick. “i know.”

“you can tell me every memory, every scar. i’ll hold them all.”

you curled in tighter to him, face pressed to the curve of his neck. “i think that was the worst part. not the bruises, not the yelling. it was how small he made me feel. like i was disposable.”

gojo’s voice was hoarse. “you’re the most irreplaceable thing in my life.”

you blinked up at him, heart cracking wide open.

“i love you,” he whispered. “so much it hurts.”

your breath caught.

“but i’ll wait until you’re ready to say it back. no pressure. no expectations.”

you squeezed his hand.

and for the first time in a long time, you believed it, fully, wholly, in your bones.

you were safe.

you were seen.

you were loved.

and for the first time, you weren’t afraid to be soft.

"i love you too, satoru. so much."

m.list !!

RAHHHH CHAT MY FIRST LONG FIC DONE WAS THAT GAS?!🫦🫦🫦

seeing the sweet comments literally made me giggle and kick my feet i love you ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

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steelestallion · 10 months ago

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💪Ryder Steele’s Muscle Gain Instruction Manual. 💪

A surface-level yet comprehensive beginner’s guide to working out/body building/gaining muscle written by a tboy with a degree in human physiology, with tboys in mind. Speed training, toning, and cardio/lung health training will not be explored.

(Part 1) Diet. Talking about food, their molecules and how the body responds.

An aspect of bodybuilding/exercizing that is just as important as the weights and workouts themselves. Generally, the more a human does, the more nutrition they need in every sense.

Protein is needed to survive as a human, 0.8 grams per kilogram of weight MINIMUM. (source) To gain muscle you need to consume more protein than that. 1 gram per pound of body is a good goal.

There are additional ingredients, Amino Acids, you can ingest to give your body more of what it needs to build muscle. The most common is creatine, and it can be found naturally in foods or bought alone. 14mg per pound is a good dose, (source) but you could do as low as you like.

Carbohydrates, fats, vitamins, minerals, and water are other things essential to keep you running, but aren’t the building block of muscle.

For vitamins, minerals, and water be sure to get the daily recommended dose. It’s worth considering a little more than recommend water, potassium, magnesium, and sodium in your diet for adequate muscle usage before and during working out. Also, a bit more calcium in general for muscle movement and the strength your bones must gain to support stronger muscles and weight loads.

For carbohydrates and fats, it’s important to have adequate levels of these. The body uses carbohydrates for energy first and mainly, then uses fats, then proteins. How much? Well it depends on how much you care about the image of your body, and what your goals are.

The Bulk is for people who want to gain muscle and mass a bit quicker. There is clean bulking and dirty bulking. Dirty bulking is eating a lot without much regard to amounts. Clean bulking is to gain muscle mass while keeping your body fat percentage at relatively the same level.

The Cut is for people who want to reduce their body fat percentage. Eating at a slight/moderate deficit to force the body to consume fat cells as energy. High protein is still consumed.

Before working out, you should consume something 30-40 minutes before starting. Preworkout, a caffeinated substance, or complex carbohydrates to give you the energy needed to begin and not crash.

After working out, you should consume a good portion of your daily proteins 30 minutes to four hours later.

(Part 2)Working out. Utilizing and ripping the telomeres of your muscles and forming neural pathways.

To build muscle, you need to utilize the muscles. To get bigger muscles, your body needs to move with more resistance than what it normally does. Weight acts as the resistance.

Warming up is an important first step to working out, as you need to prime your body’s systems and cells. Heart rate is the primary thing to warm up, because using muscles requires your heart pump harder and faster. 5-10 minutes of warmup minimum of cardio is best. The intensity of this cardio is your choice. Dancing, fast walking, jogging/running, jump rope, cycling, etc. are good. Stretching is also a good precursor to the warmup as the warmup uses your muscles also. It’s a process, but its important to warm up properly to avoid tightness, cramps, or even things snapping.

The weightlifting a complicated and highly discussed thing. There are hundreds of motions across gym machines, tools, and muscles for you to chose from. Which ones you do depend on what is available, and the muscles you want to work. Write stuff down if you must. Here is an exercise dictionary.

Muscle names are good to know to decide which motions to do. Look at this diagram to learn, and build your own encyclopedia and routine.

Frequency of working out is important. If your body does not use muscles, they deteriorate. You can work certain muscles more frequently than others. Just keep adequate rest. You may see things like push/pull day, arm day. This is the type of motions and muscles focused. Dedicating a workout session/day to one muscle group helps keep track of avoiding overuse. See Rest for more. Once a week at minimum you should work a muscle group to keep it from deteriorating. Here’s an example: Sunday rest. Monday arms&core. Tuesday whole back. Wednesday rest. Thursday whole arms. Friday rest. Saturday whole legs.

Duration of working the muscle during a session/day impacts its growth. A rep is one time going through a motion. Sets is how many times you do a group of reps. 3x15 pushups is I’m doing 15 pushups. Rest. 15 more. Rest. 15 more. Three sets of fifteen. To build endourance, lower weight at higher reps. To build mass and strength, higher weight at lower reps.

Finally, the weight heaviness. You should slightly push your muscles to start, then base your weight patterns off of what is a good amount of strain for you. The more you challenge/strain yourself, the more it will hurt and build muscle mass. Also, the faster you increase the weight your muscles fight against, the higher the risk of injury. However, if you stick to a weight that is not challenging, your muscles will not grow. There must always be some element of challenge your muscles must always be chasing to keep up with. Thats what growing is. For example: I’ve been bicep curling single dumbbells of 10 pounds for months. 12 pounds is a comfortable challenge, and I can do 15 also but not the whole set. So, I may warm up with 1 set of 10lbs. Two sets of 12lbs, then finish with one set of 15 at lower reps. The number of reps per set could be 15,12,10,6. Decreasing reps while increasing weight to prep the body, but not injure too much.

(Part 3) Rest. Your body building new muscle, and preparing to work again.

In between sets of exercise, you need to rest your muscles for enough time for them to become reloaded with their energy, ATP. ~1 minute for heavily lifting. Ensure you’re breathing well also to give your blood oxygen. Deeper, healthy breaths during rest is good.

After training it’s recommended to give a muscle group ~48 hours of rest to rebuild the fibers. Rest means not training it, but of course if you need to use them, use them. Additionally, you can still be active and rest, doing a thing called active rest. Doing nothing at all, which has its benefits, is called passive rest.

Sleep is your body’s way of storing information and taking out the cerebral trash. During sleep your body produces growth hormone, your brain works to retain all of the information you and your body learned during the day, and generally refreshes itself. Napping can be beneficial also if it doesn't interfere with getting the minimum 8-10 hours depending on your age group.

Thank you for reading! If you have any questions, would like help creating workout plans, or would like a bit of praise or encouragement feel free to reach out. Also if there are any errors. Now go have fun!

#androphilia #autoandrophilia #forcemasc #forced masculinization #weightlifting #body building #finally here!

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suigenerisisadiva · 1 month ago

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IF THE BATFAM HAD A REALITY SHOW: EPISODE 2 !COSTCO EXCLUSIVE! - FEAT BATSIS!READER

Pairings: Batfam x Batsis, batboys x batsis Content: Swearing, crude humour, Damian is a warning in himself lets bfr, classist jokes, reader calls Bruce "Daddy" in a platonic way, because that's what I call my father, the internet has sexualised that word too much imo

A/N: This was so fun you guys, if you want more pls tell me Huzzlings I tag: @ilona2nerrie, @softieekayy, @inejinn, @watchmakerhippo

🖤The Wayne Family: Trauma, Trust Funds & Tiaras🖤 – Episode 2: ‘The Costco Incident’

[OPENING SCENE: Theme Song Over Slow-Mo Glam Shots]

Flashing paparazzi. Designer heels on marble floors. One (1) feral sibling wrestling someone off-camera. Cut to black SUVS, Steph falls into pool. Tim is asleep in the confessional booth. The screen reads:

They have money. They have issues. And now they have a camera crew.

NARRATOR:

“Previously on Trauma, Trust Funds, and Tiaras—Stephanie discovered her incompetencies in the kitchen, Richard had a catastrophic breakdown leading up to the family dinner and Y/N had her banana milk stolen and never found out about the offender, this week on Trauma, Trust Funds & Tiaras, the Wayne take a trip to Costco, in attempts for "middle class immersion" in the words of Mr.Wayne.

CONFESSIONAL CAM - Y/N

[Y/N]: Daddy said we needed to learn how to ‘live like the commoners.’ So he rented out a Costco. Because obviously the most grounded way to experience the working class is by clearing out a warehouse that sells peri peri sauce by the bucket. I came for the free samples and banana milk.... and to watch Tim horde coffee beans and red bulls like a fucking dumbass

SCENE: INT. COSTCO – DAY

Dick, with wonder in his eyes: I love Costco it's like Target but on creatine.

Jason: (Already holding three rotisserie chickens) I'm not leaving without the giant teddy bear. I need it. For my—emotional support.

Tim: Why is everything in packs of 600?

Damian: (pushing the cart as though it is a war chariot) WHY ARE THERE THREE KILOS OF GRATED CHEESE IN THE CART?

Y/N: (holding a 1.5kg jar of Nutella and appears to be bench pressing a 72 pack of banana milk) “You bitches are asking the wrong questions. Where are the food samples?”

CONFESSIONAL CAM: TIM

Tim: Y/N took one of those free samples and looked the poor woman dead in the eye and said, ‘I’m going to need a whole pie for testing purposes.’ And somehow she GOT IT.

SCENE: HOUSEHOLD SUPPLIES AISLE

Bruce: (reading label) Darling, do we need a pack of 48 bath towels?

Y/N: We didn’t need a 70-room mansion either did we daddy, but here we are.

Jason: Are we talking about regrets? Because I found a kayak. I want the kayak.

Dick: Jason, we don’t have a lake????

Jason: Didn’t say I’d use it on water Dickwad

CONFESSIONAL CAM – DAMIAN

Damian, (arms crossed, fully serious): I tackled someone for the last tub of hummus. I have no regrets. They were 76. Survival of the fittest.

SCENE: CHECKOUT

Employee: (terrified) That’ll be $9,873.42.

Y/N: (hands over another party-sized bag of doritos, walks over to buy hotdog ) Dad, blink once if you’re judging me.

Bruce: (does not blink)

Tim: We bought 120 rolls of toilet paper.

Y/N: “You say that like you don’t have trust fund anxiety.”

Jason: “I bought a tent even though don’t camp, I just wanna to sit in it when I hate all of you

CONFESSIONAL CAM – DICK

Dick: We lost Damian for a few minutes and when we found him he was in the mega camping tent on display

CONFESSIONAL CAM – BRUCE

Bruce: I wanted to teach them humility. Instead, Y/N asked if she could buy a forklift ‘just because it looks like fun.’

CONFESSIONAL CAM – Y/N

Y/N: I did donuts in the Costco parking lot with my Urus, I made Tim film it.Jason joined in with his motor bike, and Dick stole the dirt bike Dad bought Damian, I literally love this family.”

ENDING SCENE: THE LOADING DOCK

Bruce stares at a mountain of bulk items.

Jason and Dick are sword fighting with baguettes.

Tim is checking if they got enough cold brew to last the week (they didn’t).

Y/N is trying to fit a 2m teddy bear into The Range Rover because her Urus' boot is full

Damian is attempting to indoctrinate a goose that wandered in from outside into crime fighting.

Narrator:

“Next week on Trauma, Trust Funds, and Tiaras — - the Waynes throw a charity gala, Y/N mistakes it for a themed rave. - Tim overdoses on espresso, needing a chamomile tea IV Drip, - Jason wears the giant teddy bear as a disguise. “Tune in for more wealth, whiplash, and whatever the hell Damian’s doing in the koi pond.”

LMFAO I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS!!!!!

Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources !-

Blue lines - @cursed-carmine

Bat dividers - @sister-lucifer

Batfam Header - Pinterest (Robin #6)

This post is property of suigenerisisadiva.

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lexosaurus · 5 months ago

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listen it's absolutely ESSENTIAL to the gym bro au that we all understand the difference between preworkout, protein, and creatine

preworkout: literally caffeinated powder. half the time it looks like cocaine. on friday one of my students said he took two scoops of preworkout "just cuz" and when i was like "wtf are you insane" he just shrugged and was like "ya but i was so locked in i had the best workout of my life" honestly idk how he's alive. i hc that this is the only thing danny likes about the gym and gym culture

protein: what muscles are made of!! gym bro ppl usually consume 0.7g per pound of bodyweight for optimal muscle growth. irl the most popular brand of whey protein powder on the market rn is no joke called ghost. danny thinks this is very funny.

creatine: 3 essential amino acids for supplying energy to the muscles and is used for recovery and muscle growth. supplements can be taken in either pill or powder form. dash always offers danny some creatine right after their workouts together and danny always turns him down because it's just one step too far down the gym bro rabbit hole and he's not mentally and emotionally ready for that yet. also kid barely passed biology with a D he doesn't know what the hell an amino acid is.

#danny phantom #gym bro au

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hypnobeauty · 6 months ago

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A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 5)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, slowburn, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! bigger chapter for you guys! some more background on our girl and other people in her life. next chapter is the date. i'm currently on a trip with friends, so posting schedule might be crazy. enjoy xx as always, comments are appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 5. nerves and anticipation

hyun-ju’s eyes opened before her alarm buzzed—a habit she hadn’t been able to shake even after leaving the military. twelve years of structure and discipline didn’t disappear in a matter of months. the steady rhythm of her mornings was a comfort, even now.

she swung her legs off the bed, her muscles stiff but familiar with the motion. stretching her arms over her head, she felt the faint pull of her shoulders, then stood to stretch her legs. the sheets were swiftly pulled taut and tucked neatly, her bed transformed with military precision.

padding to the bathroom, hyun-ju caught her reflection in the mirror. she stared for a beat longer than usual, then peeled off her clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before stepping into the shower, turning the knob toward the coldest setting. the icy water shocked her system into wakefulness, a ritual born of her time in the military. in those days, mornings had started early—often before the sun had risen. as a sergeant first class, she had been responsible for overseeing her unit’s readiness and welfare. she would lead them in grueling physical training sessions at dawn, barking commands through frosted air as their breaths formed clouds.

by midmorning, her time would be consumed by inspections, briefings, and tactical drills. she had thrived on the structure, finding solace in the rhythm of endless tasks. between training her soldiers and mentoring junior officers, she had carved out time to pursue a degree in business administration at the korea military academy. the balance was precarious, but hyun-ju had been proud of the way she managed it all, even if the exhaustion had been bone-deep.

but it wasn’t all discipline and grit. she’d been a mentor, too—a steady presence for her team. her soldiers had come to her with everything from strategic questions to personal fears. she’d thrived on the structure and camaraderie, even as it tested her limits. now, the rigor of those days was a memory, but her mornings remained sacred.

after drying off and wrapping herself in a towel, she began her skincare routine, methodically layering products while her mind wandered. teeth brushed, hair brushed, oiled and tied, she returned to her bedroom to pull on her favorite sports bra, loose joggers, and an oversized shirt. she was sitting to put on her socks when the alarm on her phone buzzed.

6:30 a.m., right on schedule.

in the kitchen, she boiled water for black coffee and set out her pills for the day—vitamins, hormone supplements, phytoestrogens, collagen. beside them were her gym staples: creatine and bcaa powder. after swallowing the pills with a gulp of water and sipping her coffee, hyun-ju laced up her sneakers, grabbed her phone and headphones, and headed out.

the faint hum of seoul awakening surrounded her—bakers pulling down shutters, early commuters shuffling to the bus stop. she greeted mr. soo, the building janitor, with a polite nod before breaking into a light jog. her pace quickened as her muscles warmed, the steady rhythm of her feet striking the pavement grounding her in the present. by the time she reached the gym, she was ready for the burn of leg day. the familiar ache in her quads and calves was like an old friend, a reminder of what her body could endure.

after her session, hyun-ju walked home, stopping by a fruit vendor to grab an apple. she peeled the sticker off absentmindedly as she walked, biting into the crisp sweetness and savoring the small indulgence. back in her apartment, she showered again, made a quick breakfast, and settled at her desk with her laptop.

job hunting had become a necessary part of her routine, though not one she enjoyed. she scrolled through listings, tailoring her résumé to each one. she wasn’t applying for anything lofty—assistant positions, entry-level management roles—but the rejection emails piled up all the same.

it wasn’t her qualifications. she knew that. her degree spoke for itself. her twelve years in the military had taught her leadership, logistics, and discipline. she could oversee teams, conduct training, handle logistics, and more. but none of that seemed to matter.

hyun-ju suspected why. the truth was, being trans made her an easy target for rejection. employers didn’t say it outright, but she saw it in their hesitation, the way their smiles faltered when they met her in person.

the thought stung, but she pushed it aside. she had other things to focus on today.

the rest of her morning passed in small, familiar rhythms: emails, light cleaning, and a quick lunch. by early afternoon, she was heading out again for her endocrinologist appointment. the check-in on her hormone levels was routine but reassuring—a reminder that her body was aligning more closely with her sense of self.

from there, she walked to her therapist’s office, the quiet space a sanctuary from the noise of her thoughts.

“i still feel stuck,” she admitted, her hands gripping her knees. “like i’m not moving fast enough. not doing enough.”

her therapist’s voice was calm and measured. “you’re doing what you can, hyun-ju. progress isn’t about speed—it’s about showing up for yourself, day by day.”

the words echoed in her mind as she left, the late afternoon sunlight painting long shadows on the pavement.

with time to spare before her evening support group, hyun-ju headed to her favorite café. the scent of roasted coffee beans and the low murmur of voices welcomed her as she settled into a corner seat with her laptop.

she had planned to work on budgeting for her next surgery, but your laugh caught her attention first, light and easy as you chatted with the barista. when your eyes met, her pulse quickened.

the conversation that followed was natural, though hyun-ju felt a mix of relief and guilt. you’d teased her gently about her unread messages, and she’d explained, hesitantly, how much she had overthought replying.

by the time you left, her heart felt lighter. the warmth of your presence stayed with her, your parting words—“see you tomorrow”—echoing in her mind.

hyun-ju lingered at the café long after you had left, her laptop open in front of her but forgotten. the noise of the café—the soft murmur of conversations, the occasional hiss of the espresso machine—faded into the background as her thoughts took over. she had tried to focus on her spreadsheet, crunching numbers for her next surgery, but her mind kept drifting back to you.

you had been kind, patient even after weeks of her silence. your teasing had been gentle, and your warmth felt genuine. it was disarming. hyun-ju wasn’t used to people like you—people who stayed, even when she gave them every reason to walk away.

she closed her laptop and stared out the window. the evening light stretched shadows across the pavement, and she wondered if she was finally ready to let someone into her carefully constructed world.

her thoughts drifted to the support group and the friends who had helped her get this far. she hadn’t been looking for a support group when she found it, but it had become a cornerstone of her routine, every thursday evening. the meetings were an anchor, a place where she could exhale and be herself without fear of judgment.

hyuk, one of the first friends she’d made there, was impossible to miss. his energy filled every room he entered, his sharp humor often breaking the tension during heavy discussions. hyuk was a dj—loud, lively, and unapologetically himself. he had once shown her a gallery on his phone of all the noise complaints he’d received from neighbors.

“what can i say?” he’d joked. “some people just can’t handle the bass.”

his girlfriend, mina, was his opposite in many ways—soft-spoken, with a melancholic air that balanced hyuk’s boldness. she attended the group occasionally, offering her perspective as the partner of a trans man. mina’s kindness was unassuming, but her insights often stayed with hyun-ju long after the meetings ended.

hyun-ju had other friends there, too. autumn, an american, and jaidee, a thai woman whose stories of her homeland painted vivid pictures in hyun-ju’s mind. through jaidee, hyun-ju had learned about the strides thailand had made in lgbtq+ acceptance. she dreamed of visiting one day, maybe even moving there to find the kind of freedom she longed for.

the group was a patchwork of stories and identities, each person carrying their own struggles and triumphs. for hyun-ju, it was a reminder that she wasn’t alone—that there were people who understood, even if the rest of the world didn’t.

a week ago, after a meeting, hyuk and mina had pulled her aside. the support group meeting had just wrapped up, and hyun-ju lingered by the snack table, fiddling with the edge of a biscuit. across the room, mina caught hyun-ju’s eye and waved. hyuk followed her gaze and grinned.

“you’re not sneaking out without talking to me, are you?” hyuk called as they approached.

“i wasn’t sneaking,” hyun-ju said, though her tone lacked conviction.

“you absolutely were,” hyuk teased, gesturing to a pair of empty chairs in the corner. “c’mon. spill it.”

mina offered her a cup of tea. “peppermint. figured you’d like it.”

“thanks,” hyun-ju said, cupping the warm drink and trying not to meet hyuk’s expectant gaze.

hyun-ju hesitated but followed them, sinking into one of the chairs as mina sat on hyuk’s lap, her legs crossed neatly.

“so, what’s got you looking like you’re carrying the weight of the world?” hyuk asked, leaning back with his typical grin.

mina gave hyun-ju a kind smile, her soft brown eyes full of curiosity. “if he’s being too pushy, just tell me. i’ll rein him in.”

“no, it’s fine,” hyun-ju said quickly, her fingers tightening around her tea. “i just… i think i messed something up.”

hyuk tilted his head, his grin fading slightly. “with who?”

hyun-ju hesitated, glancing between them. “there’s this girl. she helped me after my surgery—got me home and everything. she gave me her number, but… i haven’t replied to her messages. it’s been weeks.”

mina leaned forward slightly. “that’s really sweet of her. why haven’t you replied?”

“i don’t know what to say,” hyun-ju admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “and what if i say the wrong thing? or what if she doesn’t actually like me that way, and i’m just reading into things?”

hyuk blinked at her. “how many messages?”

hyun-ju pulled out her phone and reluctantly handed it over. hyuk’s eyes widened as he scrolled through the unread texts. “hyun-ju, this is brutal. she’s practically writing you a novel.”

mina peeked over his shoulder, wincing. “oof. yeah, this isn’t great.”

hyuk grinned, holding the phone up like it was evidence in a trial. “you’re leaving her hanging like this? no wonder you’re fidgety. the guilt must be eating you alive.”

“it is,” hyun-ju admitted, burying her face in her hands.

mina reached out, patting her arm. “it’s okay. you can fix this.”

hyuk let out a soft snort. “you’re overthinking this. she wouldn’t have given you her number or sent all those messages if she didn’t care. you think she’s texting you for fun?”

“hyuk,” mina said gently, placing a hand on his arm before turning to hyun-ju. “what he means is, she sounds like someone who genuinely wanted to connect with you. what’s stopping you from reaching out?”

hyun-ju shrugged, staring at her tea. “i don’t think i’m ready.”

mina tilted her head. “ready for what? a relationship? a conversation? something more?”

hyun-ju opened her mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words. “i don’t know,” she said finally. “sometimes it feels like… like i’m not enough yet. like i need to be further along before anyone would really want me.”

hyuk let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “hyun-ju, listen to me. i have been there before, okay? you’re enough right now. not next year, not after your next surgery, not when you feel like you’ve checked all the boxes. right now.” he frowned and sighed before continuing.

“sorry, but that’s crap, and you know it. you’re enough right now. you don’t have to hit some magical milestone to deserve to be happy.”

“oh, absolutely,” mina said dryly, rolling her eyes. “but seriously, hyun-ju, the right person isn’t going to care about where you are in your journey. they’ll care about you.”

hyun-ju blinked, her eyes stinging. “but what if i ruin it? what if i say the wrong thing, and she decides i’m not worth it?”

hyuk gave her a pointed look. “and what if you say the right thing, and it turns into something amazing? you’re too busy focusing on the worst-case scenario to see the best one.”

mina reached over, her voice warm. “hyun-ju, it’s okay to be scared. but don’t let that fear make decisions for you. even if she doesn’t feel the same way, at least you’ll know. and if she does… well, isn’t that worth the risk?”

hyun-ju exhaled shakily, the knot in her chest loosening just slightly. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“take your time,” mina said, her smile kind. “but don’t wait so long that you lose the chance.”

hyuk grinned, leaning back in his chair. “and when you do text her, let me know. i want updates.”

hyun-ju laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “thanks, both of you.”

“anytime,” mina said, standing and brushing off her skirt. “now, we’ve got a party to drag you to this weekend, so get ready.” hyun-ju groaned, but the smile lingering on her lips was genuine.

so when hyun-ju walked into her support group later that evening and locked eyes with hyuk smiling, he gave her a grin and a knowing look.

“well?” he asked, crossing his arms.

hyun-ju smiled. “we’re going on a date tomorrow.”

“finally,” he said, clapping her on the back. “now don’t mess it up.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” hyun-ju said dryly, but her smile lingered.

the following night, the weight of the day began to shift. therapy had left hyun-ju with a lot to think about, and the memory of her conversation with you at the café lingered in her mind like a warm ember. the way you’d smiled at her, the light teasing in your tone, the easy way you’d leaned across the table as though the space between you didn’t exist—it had all felt surreal.

now, standing in front of her wardrobe, hyun-ju realized she was nervous.

she wasn’t the type to get flustered easily. growing up, she’d been the one to speak up first, the one who led the charge in games and group projects. even in the military, she’d been confident and self-assured, her voice steady as she commanded her unit. but this—getting ready for a date with you—felt entirely different.

her fingers trailed over the hangers, her eyes scanning the options. most of her wardrobe was practical—clothes meant for comfort or the gym. but tonight wasn’t about practicality. tonight was about showing you a side of herself she rarely let others see.

she settled on a sleek black turtleneck that hugged her figure without feeling too tight and a pair of loose black trousers that tapered neatly at the ankles. simple, understated, but polished.

after laying the outfit on her bed, she turned to the mirror. her hair had grown longer over the past month, the ends now brushing her shoulders. she brushed it carefully, smoothing out any tangles, and debated whether to leave it down or tie it back. after a moment’s hesitation, she decided to leave it loose, the straight strands framing her face.

her makeup routine was straightforward—just enough to enhance her features. a touch of foundation, a hint of blush, a swipe of eyeliner to accentuate her eyes. she paused when she reached for her lipstick, her mind flashing back to the way your gaze had lingered on her lips at the café. she chose a soft, rosy shade, something subtle but noticeable.

by the time she was dressed, her nerves had settled into a quiet hum of anticipation. she checked her reflection one last time, smoothing the fabric of her turtleneck and adjusting her hair.

her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she smiled when she saw your message:

“just finished getting ready. heading out soon. see you at 7!”

hyun-ju’s heart skipped a beat. she typed back quickly:

“can’t wait. i’m on my way now. i’ll share my location with you.”

she grabbed her coat—a long, dark wool one that had been a gift from her mother two winters ago—and wrapped her blue scarf around her neck. the scarf was soft and worn, the kind of item that carried memories with it.

as she stepped out of her apartment, her breath visible in the crisp evening air, she felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. the last time she’d let herself hope for something like this, it hadn’t ended well. but tonight, she wanted to believe.

your apartment was a flurry of activity as you got ready, ha-neul sprawled on your bed, her face stuck in her phone, offering unsolicited advice.

“can i crash over tonight?” ha-neul asked “viktor is going to mine to get his stuff, i don't want to see his fugly face.”

“yes.” you said from your place on the floor in front of the mirror, where you finished your makeup.

“are you really going to wear that?” she teased, pointing at the outfit you’d laid out.

“yes,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “it’s a date, not a fashion show.”

ha-neul sat up, smirking. “but it’s your first date with her. you have to make an impression.”

“i think she’ll survive if i don’t show up looking like i stepped out of a magazine,” you said, though your tone lacked conviction.

ha-neul raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh. and yet, you’ve tried on three different pairs of boots in the last ten minutes.”

you threw a pillow at her, laughing despite yourself. “fine, maybe i’m a little nervous.”

“a little?” ha-neul said, dodging the pillow. “you’ve been talking about her nonstop since the yesterday.”

you paused, your cheeks warming. it was true—you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about hyun-ju. the way she’d apologized for not replying to your messages, the softness in her voice when she said your name, the way her dark eyes seemed to hold a thousand unspoken thoughts.

“she’s… different,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.

ha-neul’s teasing expression softened. “i know. that’s why i’m rooting for you.”

you smiled, turning back to the mirror. your outfit was simple but flattering—a fitted coat over a sweater dress, paired with tights and heeled boots that added just enough height to make you feel confident. you added a pair of earrings, small and understated, and ran a hand through your hair.

when your phone buzzed with hyun-ju’s message, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“can’t wait. i’m on my way now. i’ll share my location with you.”

“she’s on her way,” you said, glancing at ha-neul.

ha-neul let out a dramatic cheer. “look at you, all giddy. go get her, tiger!”

“shut up,” you said, laughing as you grabbed your bag.

as you headed out the door, your phone buzzed again. this time, it was hyun-ju sharing her location. you opened the map, watching the small icon that marked her position move steadily toward the restaurant.

in the backseat of the uber, you snapped a quick selfie, angling the camera to catch your best side. the photo was playful, your lips curved into a soft smile, your eyes bright with anticipation.

“on my way,” you captioned it, hitting send before you could overthink it.

her reply came quickly:

“you look amazing. i’m waiting inside. it’s too cold to stay out.”

you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. hyun-ju’s straightforwardness was one of the things you liked most about her.

when hyun-ju saw your selfie, her heart skipped a beat. you looked radiant, your smile soft and inviting, your confidence practically leaping off the screen. she stared at the photo for a moment longer than necessary before typing her reply.

inside the restaurant, she sat at a corner table, her hands resting lightly on the surface. the room was warm and inviting, the soft hum of conversation and the faint clinking of glasses creating a cozy atmosphere. she glanced toward the door every few minutes, her anticipation building with each passing second.

when you finally walked in, hyun-ju stood, her breath catching as your eyes met. you smiled, your face lighting up in a way that made her chest tighten.

and just like that, the nervousness melted away.

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sac-bestsupplements · 1 year ago

Text

Creatine Side Effects: Is it Safe? The Toxic Effects of Creatine Monohydrate, Powder, HCL and Capsules

Discover our top 10 best creatine supplements ranking: https://super-achiever.com/best-creatine-supplements

Read more on our website: https://super-achiever.com/creatine-side-effects

#creatine #creatinesideeffects #creatinemonohydrate

Hey there, Achiever Fam! 🌟 Today, we're unraveling the mystery behind the side effects of creatine, a staple in gym bags worldwide. Sure, it's known for muscle gains, but there's more to this story. 🏋️‍♂️🤔 If you're curious about the lesser-known effects of creatine and how to balance its benefits with potential risks, you're in the right place! Don't forget to hit that subscribe button for more insightful content. Let's get into it! 💪 Common Side Effects: Bloating: A familiar side effect due to creatine pulling water into muscles. Usually temporary as the body adjusts. 💧🤰 Water Retention: Increases weight slightly, but it's water, not fat. Normal response to creatine. ⚖️💦 Digestive Issues: Ranging from discomfort to cramps and diarrhea, especially at high doses. A sign to reassess your dosage. 🚽🤢 Dosage and Type Matter: Stick to 3-5 grams per day post-loading phase to minimize side effects. The form of creatine you choose (monohydrate, hydrochloride, etc.) can affect your body differently.

🔍💊 Lesser-Known Side Effects: Sleep Disruptions: Creatine might affect your sleep cycle due to increased energy levels. 🌙😴 Mood Changes: Some experience anxiety or irritability. Always monitor mental health changes. 😠🧠 Kidney Function Concerns: Safe for most, but those with kidney issues should be cautious. 🚨👩‍⚕️ Dehydration Risks: Increased muscle water retention might lead to dehydration. Stay hydrated! 🥤💧 Muscle Cramping: Possible due to dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Drink water and eat balanced meals. 🍽️💪 The Balancing Act of Creatine: Dosing is Key: Start low, increase gradually, and find what works for you. Individual factors matter. 📊🧲 Timing Matters: Taking creatine near workouts may enhance benefits. Consistent daily intake is crucial. 🕒🏋️‍♀️ A Balanced Diet: Creatine works best with a healthy diet. Eat a mix of proteins, carbs, fats, and vitamins. 🥗🍲 Supplementation Duration: Consider cycling creatine use – periods of taking it followed by breaks. 🔄⏳ Professional Consultation: Essential for those with health conditions or experiencing severe side effects. 👨‍⚕️👩‍⚕️ When to Seek Professional Advice: Existing Health Conditions: Particularly kidney, liver, or heart issues. Unusual or Severe Side Effects: Persistent digestive issues, cramping, or changes in urination. 🚨👩‍⚕️ There you have it!

Understanding the side effects of creatine is crucial for harnessing its power safely and effectively. 🌟💊💪 If you've used creatine, we'd love to hear your experiences. Drop a comment below, and don't forget to subscribe for more empowering content. Catch you in the next video! 📹👋

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my-hearts-kickdrum-type-beat · 1 day ago

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Hi bestie can I request a kiss cam with theo? tysm love u

Just keep watching

Pairing - Theodore Nott x Gf! reader

Summary - When you see yourself up on the big screen paired with Riddle, you freeze. Loud, yank jeers sound - you want to disappear. Luckily, your boyfriend's right behind you, ready to save the day.

Warnings - None ✿

WC: 0.8K

You had grown up completely quidditch-obsessed. Your room was draped head to toe with Holyhead Harpies merchandise, shelves weighted with frames of your favourite players.

You always told yourself that you'd become one of them - a player for the archives to be admired on and off the pitch.

When you got to Hogwarts everything just clicked; by your third year, you were your house's star chaser - fast, agile, quick-thinking, everything that could be desired.

And your interests in the league had only exacerbated. Now, at seventeen, you had been scouted by your favourite team; a prospect for the Harpies, their newest starting chaser position waiting for when you finally graduate.

You'd been spoiled ever since they signed you. A rotation of brooms, kit, and so much more with the crest splashed across it.

But best of all was the tickets. Whatever match you had a mere half a mind of going to; the admission for your entire party would be owled at a moment's notice.

You took full advantage, and that's how you landed yourself at the Quidditch World Cup semi-final, Britain vs America, in the cosmopolitan stadium that blared the Star-Spangled Banner.

One of the many stereotypes of the American people that was confirmed today was the fact that they're friendly. Like, obnoxiously friendly.

And they also have deafening surround-sound speakers - what's up with that? They tend to use those systems to point out absolutely anyone of substance during breaks in play; god forbid anyone endure boredom.

You were just waiting for half time to end, trying your best to block out the cacophony of accents around you from all of Theo's little friends bickering with the blokes next to them about the match's "sure" outcome.

Your boyfriend had ran away, to be honest. You were fine with it because you knew that a loud, crowded area was the last place he thrived, but you still made his return with a cherry coke part of the freedom negotiations.

You switched the legs you had crossed and fiddled with a strand of your hair, lazily splitting it into three strands and beginning to plait it out of the drawling of the intermission.

The Americans had you in this match, there was no doubt. You wondered what they fed their children, because Merlin, were they all the size of a skyscraper on creatine. You brits couldn't compete with that. Your pasty, average 5'6, selves just didn't compare. You were quick, though. You could put up a fight if you needed to; clearly they just weren't tryin-

"C-c-c-come onnn!"

A disgustingly off key screech that reminded of a muggle cartoon beamed through the stands.

"Hope you remembered your lip balm 'cause it's time for the kiss cam!" The melody made you roll your eyes in annoyance, undoing the small braid in preparation to redo it.

But then you were hit with cheers threatening your ears, and stares all over you. You looked up at the screen in confusion, and then your bored eyes widened in horror.

The thick, southern accent began again. "Bee-utiful young couple for y'all. Go on, give us a smooch."

You...and Riddle on the screen? Ew, ew, ew.

He had already begun shaking his head, trying to convince the onlookers to piss off, probably a few moments away from saying you were his sister.

"Oh, come on!" The speakers screeched again, your reddened cheeks about to pop with overwhelm.

That's when you felt it, the hand on your neck, the thumb pushing on the underside of your chin, forcing your head back to meet your boyfriend's waiting lips.

Theo's mouth claimed yours for a moment - hard and slow - an affirmation to you, and a correction to the audience. You weren't fucking Mattheo's. You were all his.

The explosion of cheers from the entertained crowd began, but you barely heard them.

Your boyfriend pulled away from the kiss, trailing it to the tip of your nose and forehead, then finally finishing his walk along his aisle, descending onto yours and taking his seat between you and Matt.

He wore a prideful smirk and held your cherried drink out to you. You took it silently, sipping it with your eyes locked on his while his thumb cleaned up the marks of your lip gloss that he had tracked across your face.

Riddle threw his arms over his best friend's shoulders from behind, a mocking lilt to his rough voice. "Oh, mwah, mwah, mwah, love you so much, marry me-"

Nott just rolled his eyes and scrunched his cheeks with his hand, muffling Matt's words without even looking at him.

Once satisfied with your clear face, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and eyed the dots of condensation around the can. "Cold enough, cara?" He murmured softly.

You nodded, releasing your straw and smiling, pressing your lips to his tan cheek.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that was a hall of fame-worthy kiss! Make some noise!"

divider from @dollywons <3

Theodore Nott m.list

lowkey hate this

cutesy little ficlet to get your fix, hope i did well, anon! - send any more ideas you may have.

thank u sooo much for reading cutie pie!! ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

#slytherin boys #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott

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frownyalfred · 1 year ago

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Just added two scoops of preworkout and creatine to my protein smoothie where I also blended up the vitamins I missed yesterday, which is very Bruce Wayne core.

But it does make me think — I’ve seen debate on here about how someone with Bruce’s physique could survive on just smoothies/juices, so I’m here to tell you.

-fruits/vegetables for micronutrients and fiber are blended up

-anywhere from 60-100g of protein in each serving (there’s some debate as to how much the body can actually absorb in one sitting)

-two scoops creatine / other supplements (these are a fine powder and disappear into whatever you mix them in)

-multiple scoops of whey based protein powder (optimal type for muscle recovery)

-full fat Greek yogurt for protein and live cultures, and for calories

-liquid or powdered multivitamins

-liquid or powdered greens, other medications, more caffeine powder if needed

Between the massive protein load, caffeine from the preworkout, and nutrients from the other items, you’re looking at a 1) high calorie 2) nutritionally optimized 3) shake/smoothie that can be consumed in one sitting. It might even taste good, too.

I imagine you could make this anywhere from 600-1000 calories, depending on which ingredients you use. So yes, theoretically someone of Bruce’s bulk and activity level could survive on a few of these a day.

#is this helpful for writing/fics?#oh well lol #bruce wayne #batman #dc #my thoughts #nutrition #tw calories

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on-a-lucky-tide · 7 months ago

Text

Price worships Nik's body like he deserves, and treats him to a new experience.

cw: chest worship, rimming, anal sex, bottom Nikolai.

"You ready?"

"I am ready."

Price nodded and took one final glance around the room to ensure all assets were in position. Window open for the breeze, candles secure, lube in place on the bedside table, towels on hand, water with ice in a pint glass. Everything was thoroughly prepared. Right, he was ready to deploy.

Price scratched the back of his neck, glancing up through his eyebrows at the slab of top tier Russian beef currently awaiting him in the middle of the bed. It had been a hard week, Nik was exhausted, but two days into their leave, with the rest of the world shut out, Nik was finally in the right frame of mind for intimacy. Price had to get this bloody right.

And there he lounged, all dark hair, thick muscle and cocky smile. Fucking beautiful.

It had always struck Price how confident Nik was naked. He swaggered around their flat with his massive dick out, hard or soft, and had once almost answered the door in the buff. Would have given Beryl from Number 4 a bloody heart attack as she clutched their Amazon parcel full of creatine.

In all fairness, Price thought as he studied his lover on the bed, he would probably walk around naked too if he looked that bloody good. Nik had one arm tucked behind his head, a knee hitched up the bed, his prick sitting semi-hard in the curve of his hip as he studied Price with those big, inquisitive eyes.

In that one gay werewolf romance novel Price had found in Soap's quarters, the author had talked about hard lines and angles, but outside the sharp edge of his jaw and defined chin, Nik was all firm curves that made Price want to sink his teeth in and hump like a randy bloody dog. His shoulders, his biceps, his plush stomach, just lean enough to see his abdominals when he clenched to sit up, the mouthwatering heft of his balls between muscular thighs.... Fuuuh-kin' 'ell.

"Are you okay?" Nik asked, head tilting to the side.

"Grand," Price said, voice tight in his throat. "Just admirin' the scenery."

Nik smiled at him. It was the goofy little grin he only ever flashed when he was up to mischief, or planning it. Price cocked a brow as he slipped out of his boxers and lobbed them in a ball towards the laundry basket. He wasn’t quite at the 'walk around the house bollock naked' stage of his personal development. Maybe that happened when you turned forty.

Price didn't miss the way Nik's eyes ran down the length of his body as he swaggered up to the foot of the bed, bottom lip rolling between his teeth. Nik rubbed one big hand over the shaft of his cock, giving it a longing little tug as his gaze lingered on Price's lips. "Mm. Are you sure you would not rather do our usual?"

Price knelt on the mattress unsteadily, his own prick filling quickly in anticipation of getting his mouth on Nik's body. He crawled his way up the bed, marking the location of those greedy hands in case he needed to deploy countermeasures to maintain control of the engagement. "Naw. Ya promised. This is what I want."

Nik sighed, flopping his hands onto the bed, palms up. They had negotiated tying them to the headboard, because Nik might be tempted to use them as a distraction to get his own way. Wouldn't be the first time. But Nik had promised to behave. Given his word, in fact. Plus, running his hands over Price was one of the parts he enjoyed the most about sex, and Price was bloody well looking forward to feeling them clutch his back for the finale, anyway.

"Let me, Nik. Wanna make ya feel good," Price said as he sprawled at his lover's side, placing a palm in the centre of Nik's belly. He stroked his thumb through the soft hair trailing down to Nik's groin, jet black streaked with wisps of white and grey, and pressed his lips to Nik's bicep, blue eyes wide and imploring.

"I have never been able to say no to those eyes," Nik said, and leaned in for a kiss. Price let him have it, kissing slowly as he trailed that hand up to Nik's chest. His palm brushed over soft nipples, a fingertip teasing around the areola of one until it pulled tight.

Tonight was about Nik and his pleasure. Not that Nik had been able to fully grasp why Price wanted such an evening. "Because yer just asked a question as stupid as that," Price had said at the time, cutting off the end of his cigar. Nik had still looked nonplussed. It was truly baffling how little Nik considered his own needs and desires.

Price kissed slowly down Nik's jaw, savouring the bristles of stubble against his lips, tracing his nose over his neck to breathe him in. "Always smell so good," Price grumbled, leaning over to press his face into the hollow of Nik's throat for a deeper breath that made his mouth water.

"You have scents you prefer." Nik's hand couldn't stay still for long. It brushed up Price's back, fingertips skating over goosepimpled skin, sliding into his hair from the base of his neck. There was no attempt to guide, only hold, Nik’s thumb circling lazily beneath Price's ear.

"Oh yeah?" Price kissed Nik's clavicle, before working slowly down the centre of Nik's chest. He paid close attention to the curve of one glorious tit while he squeezed the other, rolling it around against his palm. Nik's cock twitched with interest; he liked having his chest played with, pushed into it, in fact.

"Da," Nik's fingers tightened a little as Price kissed across the crest of his pectoral and down the outside where the skin was soft, sensitive. It made Nik shiver, the first crack in his laid-back facade. "You prefer... mm, you prefer..."

"What do I prefer, Nik?" Price's tongue swirled around a nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, stroking the other between finger and thumb. That earned him a soft moan, Nik's head flopping back as he drew in deep breaths through his nose.

"You prefer muskier scents. Ones that, ah, John..."

"Doin' well, Nik," Price whispered, warm breath ghosting over wet skin. He guided Nik's arms up again to kiss into the dip of his armpit. Nik's fingers curled into his palm and he spread his legs, hips twitching up with a swell of arousal, another soft noise of enjoyment rumbling from that thick chest. Price kissed and nosed the underside of his bicep, before kissing deep into the groove again, where the taste and smell of Nik was rich. He lingered there until Nik shuddered out another soft moan, fingers and toes curling as his cock twitched up from his hip with an involuntary flex of his kegel.

“Soundin’ so pretty for me, sweet'eart.”

Nik flushed, self conscious, and Price squeezed the fingers wound through his just above Nik's head before he released them to kiss over Nik's obliques. Nik kept his arm curled up obediently, baring himself for Price's mouth even as his hips squirmed. Every inch of skin deserved to be worshipped, and Nik was enjoying it, his prick hard and leaking thick beads of precum where it rested heavily under its own weight against his belly. "Doin' so well," Price said again.

Price's hand had followed the progress of his mouth on the other side of Nik's body, stroking the contours of his torso down to his hip. Nik's fingers fluttered over the back of his wrist as if to ground himself, finding purchase again as he stroked into Price's hair. He was breathing heavier, fighting his instinct to take the wheel, squirming against the softness of the sheets.

Price glanced up to see Nik's head tilted back, his eyes closed and his damp lips parted, before he continued down his belly to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. It twitched against his lips and Price ran the tip of his nose down the thick vein right to the base, nuzzling into the thick curls of black hair at his groin until he could bury his face against the heft of his sac. Price kneaded at the bedsheets, growling softly, feral, as his beard and face soaked in Nik's scent.

“Are you going to eat me, John?” Nik asked, amused, his voice thick and low as he looked down the slope of his body to John’s face. He'd see wild blue eyes buried among the thick hair around his cock, the side of John's nose brushing gently over the velvet skin of his shaft. John kept his eye contact as he opened his mouth and sucked around the base of Nik's cock, tongue swirling down over his balls. “Ahh, da… John…”

Nik sounded so good like that. Breathless, a slight tremor in his voice as a sigh stuttered over parted lips. John licked and kissed lazily, working his way back up to swirl his tongue over the soft join of skin at the back of Nik’s glans until Nik's thighs were twitching. John sucked over Nik’s leaking tip, moaning wantonly as he licked it clean of precum, tongue swirling through his slit until Nik's stomach clenched. Only then, did he pull away with a swift kiss to his glans, smirking up at Nik's flustered expression.

Nik groaned and flopped a wrist over his face. “John, pochemu ty vse vremya menya draznish?”

Price chuckled, hitching up onto his elbow so he could reach for the lube he had chucked onto the bedside table earlier. When he returned his mouth to Nik's cock, his slick fingers stroked down his taint, heavy balls nestling in the curve of his palm, so warm, so perfect, that Price couldn't help but suck another deep kiss over them. The fact that Nik's thighs spread, his hips lifting to Price's mouth in little needy twitches, made Price damn near purr.

It was rare he got to tease Nik for this long. Nik was usually too impatient to get between Price's legs and Price enjoyed getting drilled too much to put up any resistance. When time was short, they defaulted to the demands of raw need, but with two days of leave behind them and two more ahead, they had time and space to indulge.

Price pressed up just behind Nik's balls, circling the walnut shaped firmness that made Nik's back bow a little from the bed, as he kissed and lapped sloppily up and down his shaft. When Price worked lower, massaging the cluster of nerves around his opening. Nik’s fingers fisted in the sheets, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

Price kissed the soft skin of Nik's inner thigh, lips lingering over his thrumming pulse. “Ty slishkom napryazheny, tebya nuzhno rasslabit'sya…”

Nik glowed, dark eyes soft. “Ha, John… your… that was good…”

“Need ya to relax for me then,” another kiss, fingers still caressing insistently at Nik's fluttering hole, “ty khochesh etogo, da, detka?” Price asked, his voice husky and thick, and it had the desired effect, Nik’s body curled a little with delight.

“Da, ya klyanus…”

“Gluboko dyshat.” Price nuzzled the heft of Nik’s balls again, shouldering his leg a little further away as his tongue followed the slick path of his fingers to Nik's hole. He kissed the flexing muscle as deeply and passionately as if it were Nik’s mouth, tongue swirling around the outer ring before lapping inside.

Nik made the most beautiful noise Price had ever heard; a desperate, broken little whimper that might have started as a Russian curse and ended in a soft plea. A world away from the guttural grunts and moans he usually made during their tumbles. Price earned another when he thrust his tongue in again, followed by his forefinger. He worked them in and out together, the firm press of his fingertip contrasting with the slick writhe of his tongue in a messy glide that made Nik tremble.

“Ahh, haa, John… John… da, yeshcho, ahh, yeshcho,” Nik moaned, pressing his head back into the pillow, his legs shaking as Price’s finger curled to find his prostate and began to circle it. As an older gent, Nik's was a little bigger, easier to locate, and Price was going to take full advantage. Bloody hell, he was so sensitive, every flick and thrust of Price's tongue teasing another tortured pant out of him, thick tits heaving as his plush belly pulled tight.

Price took his time, tugging Nik’s rim down to lap the flat of his tongue over Nik's sloppy hole, enjoying the way it fluttered and clenched greedily, plunging back inside with his mouth wide. When he slipped a second finger in, Nik was relaxed enough to take it easily; Price pressed his fingertips up in a come hither motion that made Nik choke out another whimper.

Nik was so hard, his cockhead wet and glistening, and Price pumped a hand down it, working Nik's foreskin lazily over his glans. “Fuck, yer lovin’ this, aren't ya, sweet'eart? Love me playin’ with your hole.” Price’s jaw ached, his mouth watered at the delicious taste and smell of his lover on his tongue and lips. He closed his eyes to listen to the wet noise of his fingers working into Nik, and the soft, tortured noises his big Russian was panting into the warm comfort of their bedroom.

“Da, please… mm, John, haa, ah.”

“Reckon you could take my dick? Wanna feel ya…”

“Da, da.”

Price withdrew his fingers carefully, and sat up. “On yer front, spread yer legs fer me, love. Show me that pretty hole.”

Nik shifted slowly, his cheeks flushed and red, and rolled onto his hands and knees. Price guided him with gentle, encouraging hands. He placed a bent pillow beneath Nik's hips, urging his spine into a deeper curve and spreading his knees apart. All that heft and power presenting was bloody stunning, dark body hair, plush padding and muscle, Nik was a work of art. Nik's large shoulders and biceps bunched as big hands found an anchor in the blankets, his thick thighs twitching.

“There, fuck, look at’cha.. fuckin’ gorgeous,” Price breathed, thumbs pushing into the cheeks of Nik's arse to spread them open, admiring slick muscle and whirls of jet black bodyhair. He couldn't help it. He needed to taste him once more.

Nik scrambled at the blankets as Price buried his face against him, the soft bristles of his beard a little coarse against his sensitive skin as he was devoured. Price moaned as he ate his fill, saliva dripping down the back of Nik's balls. Nik damn squeaked, overwhelmed. “John, John, ahh…”

Price's cock ached, he was so damn hard, so damn desperate. He knew he was going to come quickly but it sounded like Nik was clinging on by the skin of his teeth too, ruddy cock heavy between his legs. When Price sat up, Nik was quivering, his face buried in the pillow. He placed a palm at the small of Nik's back while the other grasped the base of his cock, lining his tip up with his hole. The sight of Nik spreading open around his cockhead, gaping around his crown, swallowing an inch of his shaft, soft as butter. “Oh, fuck, Nik… takin’ me like a natural.”

Nik wheezed into the cotton pillowcase, bearing down against the intrusion, his hole sucking Price back in when his cock withdrew. Price squared his hips up and sank his fingers into the plush fat and muscle around Nik's hips, growling at the glorious, possessive give of Nik’s body in his grip. He started slowly, rocking in and out, sinking right to the hilt, pressing his balls into the weight of Nik's.

He listened to Nik’s moans, how they rose and fell, became more intense when Price was thrusting deep. The snug, inexperienced clutch of Nik's body was heavenly, the way he fluttered and bore down, hollowing out and relaxing more as the pleasure mounted.

Price draped over Nik's back, grinding and rutting into Nik's eager hole as he licked the sweat off Nik’s back, blissfully delirious. “Yeah, Nik… yeah, so fuckin’ good, fuck, oh, fuck, yeah.”

“Faster, please…”

Price pushed his knuckles into the mattress and lifted into his toes, pounding Nik down into the bed, and forcing increasingly urgent cries that couldn't be muffled by the pillows.

“John, John… vyyebi menya sil'neye, sil'neye!”

“C’mon, Nik, come for me. Lemme hear, fuck, fuck… yeah, c’mon, love, mm, aah.”

“Da, da, da…” Nik pushed back into Price's hips, desperate, needy, and Price slipped a hand beneath them to stroke Nik's cock. It took three firm tugs until Nik was half roaring, half seething through his orgasm, muffled by the pillow he'd shoved into his own mouth to manage the intensity. Price slowed, ekeing out the last few moments of his high, the tingling, heady, breathless peak before he tumbled over.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he snarled into Nik’s back, cock pulsing inside the firm grip of Nik's body. Grey splotches splashed over his vision, and he pressed his nose into the groove of Nik's spine as he wiggled and bumped his hips against Nik’s arse, humping wantonly through his own spend like a horny bloody dog. “Fuckin' ‘ell, yer so fuckin’ hot… what the fuck was that… wot…”

Nik chuckled into the pillow, breathless and limp. “John, your pillow talk is an art form.”

“Not my fault. Yer body makes me stupid. ‘m an actual dumb fuck, I…”

Nik’s soft chortles vibrated under Price's belly, rumbled around his cock still buried to the hilt, and Price grinned into his back. Those chuckles were delirious and fucked out, thoroughly satisfied, and Price felt a surge of masculine pride at his performance. He withdrew slowly, slumping to the side so he could urge Nik down against him. “You good? Nothin’ hurtin’?”

“I think I will be sore, but in a good way, no?”

“Yeah, maybe. Still. ‘m not packin’ your horse cock, so think yerself lucky.”

“You are exaggerating.”

“Nik, the first time ya fucked me, I had to stand up for the whole flight before a HALO…��

“The whole flight?” Nik asked, sounding far too pleased with himself.

“Yeah, yeah, olrigh’. Jus’ sayin’, bit of practice, everythin’ bounces back jus’ fine.”

“Hmm. You expect this to be… regular, then.”

“Got a taste of your arse now, ‘m gonna need regular top ups,” Price said, grabbing a handful of Nik's arse cheek. He leaned up on his elbow and studied Nik's face carefully. “If yer alright with that. Don't wanna be doin’ anyfin’ yer not happy with, love.”

Nik hummed. “It was… intense. I would not be against it.”

“But?”

“Being inside of you is the closest I will ever come to God.”

“Ya jus’... come out with that shit like it's normal.”

“Da,” Nik turned and sat up on his elbow, one large paw of a hand slipping around John's jaw, thumb stroking down his throat. “Mere words are not enough to express my love for you, John. But I try.”

Price swallowed, trying to ignore the fact his eyes definitely wanted to emote far more than was truly necessary. Really. He should pull himself together, damn it. They'd just fucked raw and hard, and now he was being bloody wooed all over again.

“I love you, Nik. You soppy bastard,” he croaked, and then kissed the damn fucker before he could drop anymore purple prose and make actual tears fall.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #prikolai #spicy again #i think nekro asked for this a while ago #maybe pan #eitherway #dumping this like a mangy street cat bringing you a wood pigeon lads

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