#we haven’t gotten one of these in a while

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

New Purpose | Yandere Saja Boys x Reader

“You want me to do what?!”

The call from your awkward and friendly acquaintance in the idol-managing business leaves you in an unreadable ball of confusion. Typically when Bobby did call you it was to brag about his girls or about the latest resort he was gifted by the girls. But this time he needed your help and you weren’t sure if you were going to give it. 

“Please please (Y/n)! You taught me everything I know; if there’s anyone who can handle them it’s you.”

Bobby pleading on his knees doesn’t change your reluctance but the pleading gazes of the boy-band in question made you slow to voice it. It also was harder to refuse when you could see the shining blue shackles on each of their wrists. A marked hand slides onto your shoulder with a stealth you haven’t felt in a long time and instinctively you reach for the holster under your coat, locking eyes with the one you once deemed to be an enemy.

“It can only be you. Mx. (L/n).”

It’s the purple-haired idol who not only was rumored to have once endangered the Honmoon but mended it with strength that surpassed her ancestors. Here she was glowing with her shining demon marks in broad daylight. A part of you still found it wrong.

She took your blatant staring in stride; sending Bobby out of the room,”Mind giving us some space? I think it might land better y’know? Idol to idol?”

“Oh, sure thing Rumi! In fact, I’ll go get the celebratory ramyeun now!”

He dashed as if his life depended on it, leaving you and Rumi with the shackled demon idols. Looking warily at the hunter you slowly pulled your hand away from your holster. The fakely wide smile on her fades into something more concerning. Pressing her purple-painted lips together, it’s time to address the real elephant in the room. 

“Why are they still here?! I thought you killed them all when you made the Honmoon golden.”

She nervously smiles, “I–thought I did too. But it seems that they were sealed in the upper world instead. The only one who….didn’t make it was thanks to Gwi-Ma.” She steps away from you, putting her hand out as if to pet the “baby Saja boy.” Previously he looked as though he was dead; standing with a face that epitomized boredom. That all changed when Rumi came close. His eyes glowed that sinister yellow and his fangs were bared as he chomped at the air her hand used to be. The blue chains clink with golden chains that shine in a ripple like the Honmoon itself. 

“You must mean the leader. Jin.”

You were playing with fire. For all the shipping edits that the idol leaders were put through, anyone could’ve guessed that they were close. While you don’t have eyes and ears close to her domain, it still got back to you just how close she’d gotten with him. During Huntrix's report of the event, Jin’s returned soul was what gave the trio the power to completely exorcise Gwi-Ma. A feat that was impossible even for the first hunters to exist.

“Yes…Jin,” she spoke his name with a heavy resonance. A respect that hadn’t dulled at all because it still felt raw.

”He saved me by showing me how to accept this part of myself rather than hide.”

She held her hands in front of her playing with the light against her marks, “Still he’s showing me there’s more to this side of myself I never really understood before.”

You watched her close her hands into fists and turn to you with a fierceness in those brown eyes you’ve never seen in person,” Which is why I think we should try helping them before we kill them.”

Stopping your laughter you finally spoke, “We?”

“We. Huntrix can’t do this on our own. You’ve been handling the otherside of the hemisphere well and now that both sides are sealed all that’s left is to care for the demons that slipped through.”

“Then why not just kill them?” The one with abs tries to jab at her which she skillfully dodges,” They clearly aren’t fond of you.”

Pausing she looks at them and then at you. 

“I have to try…if Jin saw something worth using maybe…maybe there's more to them that I haven’t seen yet. That no one’s seen. I’m hoping you can do that.”

“I’m retired. I don’t think I can do much of anything now.”

Rumi gives you a look. That glare of determination that makes you feel exposed.

“I’ve heard you before. You can do this.”

You turn, prepared to refuse but she grabs your hands.

“Please (Y/n).To protect our reign of peace….please.”

______________________________________________________________

“Alright, Saja boys. Listen up you live and breathe to be the idol group I demand you be, you hear me?!” 

The collective groans of the demon boy band, the sound makes you smirk. In an instant, you begin to hum an old song you used to sing unsheathing your whip from its holster. Romance is the one who perks up, the only one who seems to catch on that you are about to obliterate them.

“AcK!”

“OW that burns!”

“Please don’t!”

“Okay okay, we’re all listening p-please contine.”

It’s over in seconds. Everything but their faces is covered in disgusting blue welts. 

“As I was saying. I expect my perfect idol boy band to be smiley, friendly, and to say 'yes (Y/n)' whenever I ask you questions. Is that clear?”

“Yes (Y/n)!”

“That’s good now have a good show just like we practiced!”

It’s been interesting taking on the Saja boys. Their image that had Jin be their cool and calm collected leader was very much the truth. Without you breathing down their necks you found they were quite awful to all around them.

“Abby did you or did you not hit that PA with a button of yours, on purpose?”

“I mean they were looking too hard anyway it’s not my fault.”

“It is your fault that they went to the hospital thanks to your stupid little stunt.”

“It’s whatever they got a souvenir they’ll never forget!”

CRACK!

“Not the whip please, I’ll make a public apology! Sorry!”

You’ve dealt with idols that had a kamidere complex or outright narcissism but you haven’t dealt with literal demons who barely grasped that humanity was anything more than a population of overgrown bugs. 

“Alright, Bae Bee what’s going to be the right response if someone asks how you feel about the subject of turtles?”

“Goo Goo Gaga?”

“No. Try using real words please.”

“It’s…whatever?”

“I did that whole slide show and you didn’t gather anything from that?!”

“....”

FWHIP!

“Their…mid?!”

CRACK!

“Wahhh!”

But you wouldn’t continue with this farce if you didn’t realize there was a learning curve to be had. The first time it dawned on you was when Romance came to you in the dead of night, clutching the book you’d gifted them your second day: How to be a Human for Dummies. You were lounging on the large couch watching your shows when he walked in. He stood awkwardly by the door like a child who’d come to woefully inform his parents he’d wet the bed. You pretended not to know he was there; gauging if he’d actually ask for help like you offered.

“Why should we try?”

You muted the TV. Giving the pink-haired demon your full attention, you turned as he stood at the opposite end of the couch.

“Because you’ll die if you don’t.”

His nails dug into the paper cover,” no I mean why do we have to…I’ve already tried doing that before. I don’t want to go through that again.”

His marks flashed and you couldn’t see his face clearly; his hair making a curtain you so desperately wanted to peek past. 

Sighing you stood, “Follow me.”

Doing as he was told he followed you over rooftops, skillfully swinging through the concrete jungle to end it bumping into your back. He opened his mouth to insult you, to whine about how you couldn’t just answer the question to following your gaze. Down below in a window that flashed with all matter of colors, was a girl surrounded by friends singing terribly into the microphone as they cheered her on.

“You see her” The girl with the red bow in her hair?”

“...yeah.”

“She used to wonder that too. She used to walk home every day from school to her room. Locking herself away because she once listened to the same voices you do. Frankly, if she had continued listening she would have ended up just like you.”

“Then why isn’t she…like me that is?”

“Because she kept trying. Worked hard to find those she could care about; though it was hard she found them. Only because she tried.”

“So what?! I try and everything will be fixed?”

“I didn’t say that but no matter what you’ve done. Trying to make amends. Trying to be better is what makes it, you, worth it in the end.”

“Even if it took 300 years?”

“Even if it took 300 years.”

They certainly had their moments and that was enough to not exorcise them when their third month existing in the idol world rolled around. Much to your displeasure, you had no choice but to inform Rumi you’d continue to manage the Saja boys. If only to help them reconcile with themselves. To instead use their talent and influence to strengthen the Honmoon and continue to keep the positive energy that the fans permeated alive and well. 

If you worked hard, you could save the remaining Saja boys.

____________________________________________________________

“I hate this.”

Mystery was the first to voice this opinion. Finally left alone and unsupervised the Saja Boys were able to speak without the threat of being whipped, stabbed, or otherwise ground into a pulp on the shining golden Honmoon. Backstage just before another performance.

“Yeah, this just such a bummer. It was more fun when we worked for Gwi Ma!” Abs spoke leaning against the walls of the hidden stage. 

“Was it actually fun or were we just happy not to be reminded of who we are?” 

Romance turned still maintaining the front position of the band just as they’d been instructed, looking into the golden eyes of his fellow demons. Looking for the same confusion he’d been saddled with since they started this.

“I don’t really care, I just don’t like feeling…like this.” 

“Like what, Myst?! What exactly do you feel?” 

Abandoning his position, he closed in. Holding the quiet demon by the neck and slamming him into the wall. The infrastructure of the stage shook and dented but Romance was careful. He wasn’t certain why he cared so much to know his answer. He’d been asking the same thing of himself for all this time.

Mystery pursed his quivering lips. Romance growled and threw the demon to the ground, rolling into Abs’ feet. The muscular demon deflated when Romance turned to him expecting an answer, his eyes darting around as if the moving walls would have it scrawled somewhere. 

The lack of response only made the pink-haired demon angrier. Fangs beared and marks on full display he charged narrowly scratching at Abs’ face. Mystery got up to intervene, fully prepared to bite the neck of the completely wild Romance. Until his voice broke the silence.

“Purposeless. That is what we are feeling.”

His real voice was much deeper than his human one which is why when the late Jin led the group he was specially instructed to keep it hidden. But they had no leader. They have no Gwi-Ma. All they have in this hidden stage is each other. 

Romance retracts his claws, the marks still glowing bright, and he pulls at his locks.

“He’s right. W-we have nothing anymore! All we have is ourselves and that’s worse than nothing. W-w-we can’t even go back!”

His shaky declaration makes everyone unsettled. Placing a name to their fear—to their reality made it far too true. Their marks all begin to glow with an anxious throbbing. Mystery retreats into himself huddling into the corner. Abs freezes, willing his body to move and failing miserably. Even Baby lets the cap he’s wearing cover his face as he slowly slides to the floor.

“What’s the use of trying to change if I don’t even know why I’m here?! You’ve seen these humans!? They don’t know so what am I supposed to do?!”

The Honmoon throbs at his cry. 

“How can I try when I don’t want to face who I am?!”

Demon marks flaring in tandem with the flickering gold.

“What good can come from someone as far gone as I?!”

The Honmoon dangerously touches the color pink. 

“What am I supposed to do with myself!? Without any voice what am I supposed to do!?”

Multiple tears of the barrier are forming and joining at the seams around each of the separate Saja boys. Each one is influenced by their pain and about to damage the sanctity of the Honmoon.

~kzzt~

Like a heaven-sent. The comms in their ears buzzed to life.

~kzz~He~kzztz~

The pink fades and the healing blue returns to the barrier.

~kz~Hey can you guys hear me in this thing? It’s me (Y/n).kzztz~

It’s your voice. Their guardian. Their manager.

“As expected these walkies are crap. Anyway, I expect you boys to give me your best because I know you can do it. Can you do that for me Saja?”

The voice in their ears answered the only remaining questions.

“Yes, (Y/n).” “Yes, (Y/n).” “Yes, (Y/n).” “Yes, (Y/n).”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now wow that crowd and no soul stealing.”

The silence of the stage was lighter. More defined. The long turned-off comms burned into their ears. All of them replaying the echo of their manager’s voice—soothing, uplifting, commanding.

“It is them. That will be our purpose.”

Baby’s voice spoken with clarity confirmed what they all decided. As the stage begins to rise and the cheers of their fans increase even more. The Saja Boys are in position, prepared to perform just as their manager demands it. 

______________________________________________________________

“So how’s it gone, managing them?”

All of Huntrix was over for the day, enjoying some bubble tea as they looked at the golden-covered city. The barrier glowed strong with a healthy pulse fully powered by their fans.

You were glad that you’d convinced the boys to attend their shoot solo. Otherwise, you would’ve risked having this conversation with them around. Which wouldn’t have been a good idea considering how close they’ve gotten.

“It’s going great. They haven’t had another incident since I last called.”

The girls shared a look. 

Mira sneered at the promotional material for the group scattered on the table, picking it up like it was dirty laundry. 

“By great do you mean, like the Honmoons not broken great or that there's an uptick in murders in the last month—all where you guys were going on tour–great?”

Zoey chuckled anxiously, “We don’t want to accuse but the numbers don’t look great.”

Shooting a look at Rumi, you settled in your chair. Looking out at the city below carefully putting pressure on the plastic cup in your hands.

“Look I wish I could definitively say it’s just a coincidence but I looked into those cases myself and most of them seem airtight. But I’m not entirely sure there wasn’t some demonic influence.” Zoey and Mira shared a look before turning back to you with a grimace.

“I’m saying there’s just no way to tell for sure if it was them and without evidence I can't exactly ‘convict’ anyone.”

“So you're saying there’s no way not one of those boys slipped through your grasp?”

“Yeah (Y/n)...we know you’re technically retired and there’s five demons and one of you…it can’t be easy.”

Rumi finally looked ready to speak and you had a feeling you weren’t going to like it. 

“We were thinking maybe you should take a break!” She didn’t look entirely convinced, looking between Mira and Zoey. “We’re going on a break for a little while so maybe we can look after them for you.”

“I’d love that,” you studied their faces for some kind of joke,” but I don’t know if you can handle the boys any more than I could.”

The girls confidently laughed.

“Are you kidding?”

“We nearly killed them the last time we met!”

“Yes, Huntrix has got this in the bag!”

The girls cheered with pride as they whooped and hollered at one another. You admired their spunk, something you felt came far too less now that you’ve outgrown the group you used to hunt with. 

“Alright then girls, I’ll take you up on your offer–”

“Yes!” “The-Best-B-ab-y Sitters in the wooorldd!” “Yeah, this is going to be a piece of cake!”

“---a word of caution girls.”

Your words had them stopping in their tracks, their triumphant smiles only softening to acknowledge you. The only one it completely faded from was Rumi, who almost looked afraid to see you step on the elevator.

“The Saja Boys are a lot more determined than you’d think. Try not to be an obstacle for them.”

With that, the metal doors slid closed, and for once in a long time you were alone. Now came the hard part—telling them. 

______________________________________________________________

“You have got to be kidding me!?”

It was Bae Bee taking his usual spot at your back, his fanged sneer hissing into the side of your head he was previously nuzzling against. His nails had gotten longer penetrating the T-shirt you were wearing, a single flick to his wrist had him retract his claws but not loosen his grip.

Speaking of claws you could feel the demon on your lap allowing his to emerge and grip at your jeans all the tighter. The practiced action of oncoming tears soaking through the denim told you, Mystery was having a similar reaction. Across the room were Romance and Abby both dressed in their custom robes were drying with their respective blow dryers after using the dressing room’s shower. Both appliances were crushed and melted onto the floor within seconds of your announcement. The demons-responsible, flashing their marks and fangs at you. Romance immediately straightens up, adjusting his hair and robe before glaring down at you.

“I thought we had a deal.”

“YEAH A PROMISE! WE’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BREAK THOSE.”

Abby was worse for wear marks and teeth on full display; you mentally noted to pay the venue for the damage he’d cause. Already a partition was torn through, a wall successfully punched into, and a microwave was effectively torn apart. If you didn’t ease his worries the staff would be next.

“I’m not leaving you guys. The deal was that if you all made an effort to change, I’d never leave.”

“Which is what you’re trying to do,” Mystery muffled protests had everyone nodding.

Romance stepped forward again, arms crossed and amber eyes glowing deviously down at you. 

“Then that would mean our deal is off!”

“No, it’s not! We never said anything about time off or leaving and coming back.”

“Didn’t have to,” Bae whispers into your ear with a smirk on his face, ” You are the one who agreed.”

It’s then you feel the need to reach for your whip, reaching for your beloved weapon underneath your coat. Searching for your saving grace next to your waist you only to find its empty holster. Looking over to Abby who’s suddenly stopped his violent tirade to pull at the much sought after weapon. 

“Then if you go that means we don’t have to abide by the rules anymore.” He looks at you like a puppy, one who’s done something awful and hopes you understand. The boisterous Abby was no longer there, a serious look on his face. 

You want to soothe him. To deny it. But the truth of the matter was just that, you had to leave and at this point,t it wouldn’t do you any good to demand they accept otherwise. Your whip across the room, your body held in place by a smirking demon, your legs held down by another, and your attention on the one you were sure had made the most progress. 

“We have changed if it helps. We’ve upheld our end of the deal. For you to go against us now…well we’ll just try to preserve our purpose.”

By now you were in no place to make demands.

“So go enjoy your…trip. We’ll be waiting and by then we’ll have changed some more just as you commanded.”

No trip to the Maldives would erase those words from your head.

______________________________________________________________

When you return from any kind of holiday there’s a moment of great depression. A crushing sense of reality from the joy you experienced comes in full force as you unpack and reenter your tiresome schedule. In your case it was no different, for two whole weeks you could ignore the haunting reactions of the demons you guarded to lounge with a poolside cocktail in hand. Of course, your return would be tumultuous. 

In the darkness of the condo you’d begun to call home, was Rumi. Sat crossed-legged in the mess of sliced furniture, just as worse for wear as the decor around her. You called to her, almost unsure it was she until she looked up. Her eyes were swollen, her marks an ugly black and the typically brown and golden eyes were red. 

“I…didn’t think anything would change,” she finally spoke carelessly musing as you tried to nurse her wounds, “that I would still be strong enough to beat them…I just wasn’t ready for them to…change like I did.”

You want to question her. To ask what she meant but the four pairs of golden eyes smiling back at you explained more than anything she could have said.

“A deal’s a deal.”

Out of the darkness limp bodies clattered to the floor. Battered and bruised it was Zoey and Mira. Unconscious and scarily still you watched Rumi struggle to carry them both, limping to the elevator. She spared you a single glance; eyes filled with too many apologies to ever speak.

“I…can’t be an obstacle to you anymore. Goodbye (Y/n).”

With the broken jingle of the elevator, you were left with your boys once again. Gripping the handle of your whip, you wait for them to reveal themselves to you…fully. Without a word, they emerge in their original forms circling around you with smiles on their marked and purple faces.

“So what are we doing now that I’ve returned?”

Their distorted chuckles don’t settle your unease.

“You said you changed do you plan to show me?”

“Of course, (Y/n).” Abby’s voice was the loudest and when you turned prepared to strike, your arm was held in place by the demon. 

“Whatever you demand of us.”

You dropped the whip catching it with your opposite hand, rearing to strike again only for your other hand to be caught and pried open. Your whip forcefully fell into the hands of Bae who smiles cruelly as he snaps your beautiful weapon in half with a ripple of magenta smoke. Of course, you struggle but the hands holding you in place are firm, warping your struggles so that you fall to your knees. Your chin is being held so gently by the new lead of the Saja Boys.

“We are always at your command, (Y/n). Because you are our purpose.”

You open your mouth to speak, to finally give a proper command since they demand it of you. Only for your lips to be covered in Dutch tape, which is played with as Romance comes even closer. The dark blue blush on his face shows just how much he relishes the glare you have for him.

“Since you broke your deal with us, we are free to change. To finally be free to serve our purpose however we see fit.”

It’s then you feel something monstrous intertwine itself with the barrier of the Honmoon pink and orange demon hands replacing the idol demons’ hands. Allowing them to look down on you as well all of them casually caressing your sealed lips.

“You right (Y/n), we have changed.”

There were hands in your hair.

“We’ve grown stronger and it’s all because you gave us a chance. Because you taught us to care.”

There were hands on your back.

“Encouraged us to try.”

Somehow they were in your brain.

“Even if it takes 300 years.”

You sleep in the arms of the Saja Boys—Your boys because you’re all they work for. All they try for. All they’d think to change for. 

You are their purpose and they’ll do anything you they demand.

Totally forgot some of these guys died on screen Whoopsie!

Kofi → Here Masterlist → Here Commissions → Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤

[ogwintersmind]

Current boyfriend — Katsuki.

Katsuki hated TikTok with a passion. He had the app on his phone of course- only because you insisted he follow you and he needed to keep up with the trends or whatever. Still, he never really used it.

BUT ever since the two of you had gotten together he'd fallen victim to every trend you decided to participate in—so when the 'current boyfriend' trend started making its rounds, you already knew you had to do it. Katsuki was sitting at the table, eating after a long work day and a shower, minding his own business. But of course - any amount of quietness he had absolutely required his wife to come and "ruin" it by bothering him.

"Kats," you approached him with that innocent expression and that sweet sweet voice - it's all an act of course, and he knew it. "I wanna make a nighttime routine video for my TikTok. With you in it, okay? Please?" He rolled his eyes and let out a long huff, the kind that always came right before he gave in to your whims.

"You're always putting me in these dumb videos," he grumbled, his eyes never leaving his food. Then he spoke again, "yeah, we can film it. Just let me finish eating and we can start.”

Pertect. He'd fallen right into your trap. Like he always does.

You grabbed your phone and turned on the camera. "Okay! I'm gonna film the intro now though."

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered. Still not looking up from his plate (fatty).

The camera focused on Katsuki's side profile as he ate, and you started the video. Putting on that innocent act of just filming. "Hey guys! A lot of you have been asking me for a nighttime routine, so l'm gonna do one tonight. Oh, I'm also gonna have my current boyfriend in the video too."

You barely finished speaking when Katsuki froze mid-bite. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you. "Current? What the fuck? Delete that."

The two of you locked eyes for a long moment. Neither of you is saying anything. You were already trying not to laugh.

"It's just a saying," you shrug. "It's not that serious." Katsuki's expression was one of disbelief. "Just a saying? First of all, never have I ever been so fucking offended." He set his chopsticks down with purpose. "Second, make sure you're listening to this very carefully— I am your husband. Your literal fucking husband, and not only are you reducing me to your BOYFRIEND when we've been married for a year, but you're reducing me to your current boyfriend at that. What, are you gonna have a new one tomorrow?" He was genuinely so pissed off at you right now.

"Turn the damn camera off and try again. I'm actually not joking, Reader." You shut the camera off and give him a small chuckle. "It's just a joke, crybaby. It's a TikTok trend." Of course it was.God, he was so tired of you doing these stupid trends on him. " Yeah, whatever, get out of my face. You're so annoying." He continued eating with a slight smile on his face, knowing that later, you and your supporters would be making fun of him and his reaction in your comments.

Thanks for reading!

I know I haven’t posted in a while 😅 I’ve been very busy (lazy) .

I was gonna do multiple characters but I got too lazy so if you want that then let me know !

see you in the next one friends ♡.

XO- winter ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡.

[cinnamon7girl7]

"WE DON'T BELIEVE YOU, GOJO!!!"

At this point, saying Satoru Gojo was famous on the internet was an understatement. With thirteen million followers on Twitch, a YouTube channel full of viral clips, and a legion of fans who followed him everywhere, he was basically a digital celebrity. No one would’ve imagined that the guy with the “just woke up” face and loud laugh would make it this far—least of all, him.

Gojo had started streaming a couple of years ago, at first as a joke. He uploaded short clips playing with his friends, no cam, just a voice that sounded way too confident for someone constantly losing in Valorant. But everything changed the moment he decided to turn on his camera and show his face—then the internet fell at his feet. There was something about him… that mix of shameless charm, zero embarrassment, and a cocky smile that seemed custom-made to break hearts through the screen.

Now, he streamed four times a week, usually at night, starting around 8 p.m. and sometimes staying on past midnight. Mondays were for “chatting with chat,” as he liked to say—sometimes he didn’t even play, just commented on random stuff, reacted to videos, and laughed at the dumbest comments. Wednesdays were shooter days: Valorant, Overwatch 2, sometimes a little Call of Duty. Fridays were for story-driven games like Detroit: Become Human or Until Dawn, where he screamed like it was the end of the world every time a character died. Sundays were pure chaos: games with followers, silly challenges, and an outrageous amount of bits flying across the screen.

His room was part of the charm. The camera always showed the same angle: Gojo in his white gamer chair, wearing black headphones that contrasted with his messy white hair. Behind him, a wall decorated with blue LED lights, shelves packed with Funkos and little figurines, and a giant plushie of a cat with a suspicious face that always made an appearance at some point during the stream. Sometimes he wore sunglasses, just “for the drama.” Other times he showed up with wet hair, like he’d just gotten out of the shower and couldn’t care less. Always in oversized T-shirts or hoodies, most of them printed with memes or ridiculous quotes like “you won because I let you.”

That Monday night, he was in his usual talking stream. Almost 580,000 people were tuned in.

—Hey, hey, wait, wait —Gojo spoke with a lazy smile, leaning back in his chair—. Why are you saying that if I let my hair grow longer I look like a chaotic elf? Respect!

The chat was going a thousand miles an hour, emojis, conspiracy theories about whether he slept more than three hours a day. Affectionate insults, threats of eternal love, greetings from countries he didn’t even remember visiting. All the usual stuff.

Gojo slowly spun his chair from side to side while finishing adjusting his headset. He wore a gray hoodie with a stretched neck, like he had put it on without looking. His hair, messier than ever, fell disorderly over his forehead, and the dark glasses rested on the tip of his nose, letting his eyes peek over with a mischievous smile.

—Okay, let’s see, what do we have today?

@ILoveYouSoWhat: DO YOU SLEEP OR JUST EXIST?

@LoveRamen: I dreamed about you last night and woke up sad

@GojoEndMe: why are you so handsome today? Stop making me suffer

@SayHiOrIExplode: SAY SOMETHING, SENSEI, SAY SOMETHINGGG

—But I haven’t said anything and you’re all already upset! —he laughed, resting his elbows on the desk while reading the chaos on screen—. Weren’t I unbearable? Weren’t you all over it already?

@ShinyHair: yes, but your existence drags us

@MyPaleKing: you’re too close to the camera. My knees are shaking

@GojoFanClub: speaking for everyone when I say I hate you lovingly

—Wow. Strong statements for a Monday —he replied, raising an eyebrow—. I wake up, turn on the stream, gift you this beauty in 4K and all I get are threats and confused love declarations.

@StopThisMan: I can’t take this man anymore

@VirtualKiss: your existence is emotional violence

Gojo burst out laughing and leaned back, letting his chair squeak dramatically.

—See why I don’t stream every day? I need time to emotionally recover from the bullying you all do to me. Where’s the sincere affection? Where’s the pure love?

@BlindLove: I do love you, even if you’re unbearable

@ProfGojo: sincere affection? You only understand chaos

@BiteMeGojo: you give me love and trauma at the same time

—Love and trauma? What a strong phrase to put on a t-shirt! Wait... I’m going to write that down!

He made the dramatic gesture of writing with an invisible pen, as if he really had a notebook at hand.

—“Love and trauma since 199... well, since a few years ago. With love, Satoru.”

@IWantThatShirt: I’ll buy it RIGHT NOW

@AdorableMenace: stop monetizing our mental health

—But you all come to me! I didn’t even go looking for you. I was calm, playing calmly, and suddenly I wake up with thousands of you yelling “hit me or kiss me,” what am I supposed to do with that?!

@LetUsLoveYou: just kiss us all already

@GimmeStreamGimmeLife: we chose you as our favorite trauma

Gojo snapped his fingers, pointing at the screen as if he could really see them.

—Now I understand why my psychologist always seems so exhausted when I see him. He looks at me like “I don’t get paid enough to listen to what you tell me.”

@SatoruSpillIt: that’s because you didn’t tell him you’re a streamer

@SpicyTeaTime: does your psychologist know you’re a streamer?

—Of course. It was his idea, actually. He told me: “Maybe you should channel that need for attention in a healthier way.” And look at me now! Surrounded by thousands of strangers yelling things at me... total emotional healing.

@SawYouFirst: so it was the psychologist’s idea... we love him

@TherapistOfThePeople: thanks for everything, doc

He stayed silent for a moment, watching the number of viewers keep rising. It was already over 670,000 live. He noticed, but didn’t comment on it. He just smiled.

—Hey… can I ask something?

The chat paused for just a second. Just enough for someone to write:

@AskSensei: obviously, whatever you want

—Do you all watch all my streams? Like, every single one? Or is there someone here who just arrived, like, casually?

@CameFromTikTok: you showed up in an edit and now I can’t escape

@FromApexWithLove: I’ve been here since they were killing you in the lobby

@NoviceInLove: I came for a clip and stayed for your face

@NoEscape: I arrived yesterday and already sold my soul

—Ha! I love you guys. Well, not literally. Imagine if I could say that without legal consequences… “Streamer marries 13 million people.” Can you imagine? My big digital wedding. The first kiss would be delayed.

@IWannaBeTheBrideNumberOne: I want to be bride number one!

@LetThemKiss: can you kiss through the stream?

@ToxicMoon: no, but I can kiss the screen anyway

Gojo brought his hand to his chest with a hurt expression.

—You’re killing me. This is no longer bullying: it’s emotional homicide. And you know what’s worst? I like it. I’m an accomplice.

@ToxicButLoyal: we’re your favorite crime

@LaughButConfess: you laugh a lot but don’t say if you have a girlfriend

The comment went by fast. Almost unnoticed. But he read it.

And he didn’t answer immediately.

He just stared at the screen a little longer than usual, with a half frozen, half amused smile. The silence didn’t last even three seconds, but on the internet that’s eternal.

@I_SAW_IT: he saw it… he read it… and stayed silent

@WE_DONT_BELIEVE_YOU: there it is, the silence gave him away

@MAKE_HIM_CONFESS: don’t run away, bald guy with powers

Gojo squinted. Tilted his head. Then chuckled softly.

—See how you are? One thing is to call me handsome, and another to corner me like this is a live trial. What’s next? Bringing a lawyer to the stream?

@ChatAccuses: Satoru Gojo, accused of hiding love information

@WE_DEMAND_PROOF: Do you have a girlfriend or not?

@NOBODY_BELIEVES_YOU: this man is way too happy to be single

Gojo clicked his tongue, spun in his chair, covered his face with one hand, and murmured:

—And so, ladies and ladies… the war has begun.

The silence barely lasted a second. Maybe two. Then, as if someone had pressed a giant red button, the chat exploded into absolute chaos.

@SugarCookie: Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend.

@DonutKarma: What war? What did you do, Satoru?

@TenderRamen: YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?! WHAT WAR?

@GojoTheories: The one who stays silent… has a girlfriend.

@SadEyes: Is what I’m reading real or am I projecting?

Satoru raised both eyebrows as he read the messages flying across the screen. The monitor’s glow reflected in his eyes, now sparkling with pure amusement. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a dangerous smile on his lips.

—But what does one thing have to do with the other? —he said in a relaxed tone, though not hiding the laugh escaping from the corner of his mouth—. I was talking about the emotional war unleashed in this stream… who mentioned girlfriends?

@EmoPanda: WHAT WAR? THE EMOTIONAL ONE YOU’RE CAUSING ME?!

@LoggingOff: Gojo, DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?

@SpiritualSandal: CONFIRM OR DENY, NOW.

@FuriousPikachu: don’t evade the question, master

He let out a full laugh, with that laugh of his that seemed contagious even if you had no idea what was going on. He turned his chair a bit, moving closer to the microphone, as if he really had something important to confess.

—What if I do? —he asked boldly, raising an eyebrow—. What if I do have one?

@InnocentMe: CRY WITH ME

@DestroyedFan: I don’t know how to deal with this

@RealSandal: Don’t make me throw the sandal, Gojo

@ShockedRabbit: Are you telling me I was THE OTHER without knowing?

He rubbed the back of his neck with a half guilty, half delighted smile. Like he was enjoying every second of this collective reaction.

—Come on, it’s not that big a deal. —He shrugged with a dramatic sigh—. I just said “what if I do?” I haven’t confirmed anything, technically.

@Conspiracy3000: That’s what someone WHO HAS a girlfriend would say

@DramaQueen: the one who doubts, HAS

@DisappointedCake: I’m listening to Taylor Swift while reading this

@NotNormal: You said it. You sold yourself out, Gojo

Satoru rested his elbows on the table, intertwined his fingers, and rested his chin on his hands. He looked at the screen as if the whole world was judging him in an interrogation room. His lips formed a sly, almost tender smile, but in his gaze there was a spark of mischief no one was going to put out.

—Since when is having a partner a federal crime? —he murmured, in a mock victim tone—. I literally just said “what if I do,” and now they want to exile me.

@NoPeaceSinceToday: I just wanted to watch you play. Now I’m in therapy.

@BackgroundNetflix: This is better than any series

@NotAJoke: Say it. Just say it. Do you have a girlfriend or not?

And that’s when he decided.

He closed his eyes for a second, took a breath, and then leaned even closer to the mic, as if about to tell the biggest secret of his life. He spoke with a soft, sincere voice… but without losing the humor.

—Yes.

He dropped it with such dangerous calm it seemed scripted. Then shrugged, as if he hadn’t just destroyed thousands of hearts with a single word.

—Yes, I have a girlfriend. For six years.

The chat froze for a fraction of a second before going into spontaneous combustion.

@AreYouKiddingMe: error 404

@IAlreadyLeft: Nope. It can’t be. It’s not real.

@BrokenFantasy: SIX? SIX YEARS? SIX YEARS.

@MomI’mCrying: don’t talk to me, I’m mourning

@MySoulHurts: I felt like running in the rain

— I know, I know — he said, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture that didn’t help at all —. It all happened very fast… six years ago. I met her, I fell in love, and since then, here we are. And it’s not like I wanted to hide her, okay? It’s just that… you all are intense. Look at you right now.

He laughed alone seeing how fast the chat was moving. The chaos. The suffering. And yet, there was affection behind it all. That was the price of being loved by so many people: even good news hurt.

— She lives with me, puts up with me, makes me laugh… and she cooks better than anyone. I adore her. A lot. And no, I didn’t make her up. This is not a marketing plan or a strategy for a movie. It’s real.

@CollectivePanic: I’m dizzy.

@CollectivePanic: I’m sweating.

@CollectivePanic: I fell off the couch.

@ShockedCat: What do you mean SHE LIVES WITH YOU?

@BrokenHeart: I lost the light in my eyes

@I’mLeaving: This is my last stream, it was an honor

— What did you expect? That I would live alone and eat instant ramen my whole life?

He put a hand on his chest as if he really felt hurt.

— You don’t believe me! Do you really not believe me? After everything we’ve shared?

@DoubleStandard: I can’t be happy for you if I’m not the one

@IDon’tBelieveYouGojo: LIAR. I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.

@That’sFake: Gojo, you don’t know what true love is

@HaterButLoyal: This is a phase. Tomorrow he’ll deny it.

He laughed, the kind of laugh he only let out when everything seemed like an eternal joke.

— Want an official announcement? A blood-signed document? A romantic stream by candlelight?

@YourExInSilence: YES

@GiveItToMeNOW: Let her come. Let her confirm it. NOW!

@DeluxeBetrayal: Proof, Satoru. We want proof.

He leaned back, settling into that expression like he had everything under control. Like he’d been waiting all night for this moment.

— No, not yet — he said, winking —. You haven’t begged me enough.

@FuriousAndUnited: WE BEG ON OUR KNEES, DADDY

@FuryKiss: LET US MEET THE QUEEN

@ShockedHeart: I don’t know whether to cry or applaud

— That’s why I never tell you anything — he murmured, shaking his head with a charming smile —. They literally put me on trial the moment I open my mouth. This is an emotional court with no neutral jury.

@YouAskedForIt: Guilty. No way out.

@InnocenceIsOver: This is my last stream

— Well, now you know. I have a girlfriend. Six years. It’s real. She’s beautiful. She’s mine. And I’m not going to show her. Not yet. — He leaned toward the camera, winking cheekily —. And the best part is… this is just the beginning.

The chat kept roaring like an endless storm. Hearts were broken, fingers typed as if trying to pierce through the screen, and Satoru… he simply enjoyed it. You could tell. That playful sparkle in his eyes was like a mischievous child nobody could stop.

@DetectiveFan: OK. LET’S START THE INVESTIGATION

@BestFriendWhoDoesn’tSuspect: IS SHE BLONDE?

@BetrayedButLoyal: GOJO, IS SHE PRETTY?

@EyesLikeTheSky: tell me if she has light eyes or I’ll die

Satoru let out a mischievous giggle and tilted his head, resting his cheek against the back of his hand while watching the messages flood the screen.

—Hmm… —he made a thoughtful sound, as if truly evaluating something important—. Want to know about her?

@Everyone: YES!!

@NowRightNow: TELL US EVERYTHING

@ConfessNow: GOJO, I BEG YOU

He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, pretending to be indecisive.

—Okay. But let’s play. If you guess her hair color… I’ll say something about her. Only one thing per correct guess, okay?

@PinkHair: PINK!

@BlackLikeMySoul: BLACK

@SilverLikeYou: SILVER LIKE YOURS

@RedheadPlease: REDHEAD!

@SurelyBlonde: She’s blonde, my soul tells me

@FantasticRainbow: She’s bald

Satoru watched each message pass with a raised eyebrow, as if silently judging. He smiled with clenched teeth and shook his head.

—No, no, no. Everyone is pretty far off… Although that one from “@FantasticRainbow” made me laugh —he shrugged—. Anything else? Anyone else want to try?

@IneverFail: DARK REDHEAD

@MyIdealMotherInLaw: BLACK WITH BLUE HIGHLIGHTS

@DetectiveChestnut: BROWN

And there, he said it. He heard it. Well, he read it. He paused. His eyes opened a little wider, that subtle way he has only when caught. A laugh escaped him before he could control it, soft and playful.

—Aha… —he whispered to the microphone—. We have a winner.

@NOOOO: WHAT? WHO? WHICH ONE WAS IT?

@REPEATIT: I DIDN’T SEE! I DIDN’T SEE!

@STOPEVERYTHING: SOMEONE GOT IT RIGHT!

Satoru let out a louder laugh, dropped his head back for a second, then looked directly at the camera again.

—Yes. Brown. Bingo.

@IMDEAD: I’M SAYING GOODBYE TO THE WORLD

@IWANTTHATINFO: TELL THE TRUTH, YOU PROMISED

@GOSSIPWITHPRIZE: GOJO, SPILL IT

Satoru rested his elbows on the desk, laced his fingers, and looked at the camera with a smile that melts hearts.

—Okay. One truth about her… Every time I get sick, doesn’t matter if it’s a silly cold, or I just sneeze three times a day… she makes me soup. A special one. It has ginger, onion, carrot, sometimes rice. And she knows exactly how long to boil it to heal me. It never fails. Never.

@SOULHEALER: I want to die of love

@IWANTTHATSOUPE: Do you have the recipe?

@SHE’SMYIDOLNOW: MAKE HER A SAINT!

—Another round, want it? —he said in a lower, playful voice, as if he knew the chat had no escape—. What if now you guess… her eye color?

@BlueLikeMyHeart: BLUE!

@SorceressGreen: GREEN!

@BlackLikeMyShadow: BLACK

@RedLikeMyEnvy: I DON’T KNOW BUT I WANT THEM TO BE RED

@Violet: VIOLET, obviously

@SweetCoffee: Brown

Another pause. A slow smile formed on Satoru’s lips, who barely bit his lower lip.

—Look at that! Again… someone got it right.

@WHOWASIT: SAY IT!

@IDIDNTSEE: WHO SAID IT?

—Brown. —The word came out soft, with sincere affection—. A brown that changes with the light. Sometimes it looks like honey, sometimes like wet earth. They’re… pretty —he admitted quietly, lowering his gaze only a second before regaining composure—. Another truth, then.

He stretched in his chair, as if thinking a bit.

—She doesn’t let me leave without breakfast. Never. And when I try, she crosses her arms at the door and won’t let me pass. She says, “You won’t last five minutes like that.” And she’s right. Always right.

@I'MCHILLING: HOW DO I BECOME HER?

@IWANTTOBEBREAKFAST: I DON'T EVEN CARE THAT MUCH ABOUT MYSELF

@MARRIAGEIN4MONTHS: I MARRY THEM

And suddenly, BOOM! The screen exploded with violet lights and digital fireworks.

@IDONTBELIEVEYOU just dropped the bomb: 💥 20,000 bits 💥 The message came with pure venom: @IDONTBELIEVEYOU: I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY. I. DO. NOT. BELIEVE. YOU. I won't believe it until she comes and says it with her VOICE. WE WANT TO HEAR HER! CALL HER NOW, GOJO!

The chat collapsed as if someone had kicked a beehive.

@OHMYGOD: AAAAAAAA

@THISISASECT: THIS GOT SERIOUS

@BIGDONATION: YOU DON'T PLAY WITH 20K BITS

@MYSOULSCREAMED: THE VOICE! THE VOICE!

Satoru opened his eyes as if he'd been challenged to the world gossip finals. He leaned back in his chair, making a face like "Are you seriously doing this to me?"... then he smiled.

— Well, well... — he said, looking at the camera like he was talking to an accomplice.

Someone wants audio proof.

The chat went on fire.

@CALLCALLNOW: I'M NERVOUS AND I'M NOT EVEN HER

@WEARECRAZY: WHAT IF HE ANSWERS SWEETLY?

@IWILLDIEHAPPY: WHAT IF HE SAYS "LOVE"?

Satoru was already pulling out his phone. With one hand he unlocked it, swiped to your contacts, and there was your name, with a bow emoji and a pink heart.

He typed. He called. Speakerphone.

— If you don't answer... they're going to burn me alive — he murmured, amused.

A couple of rings, and then:

— Hi? — your voice, unprepared, so natural, so you.

Satoru straightened up a bit, a smile already fixed and a mischievous look.

— Love, where are you?

— At Zara — you said, unaware you were being listened to by thousands of lost souls.

I'm between two dresses, one makes my legs look beautiful, the other is very short. What are you doing?

Silence. TOTAL silence.

Satoru looked straight at the camera. He didn’t explain anything. He just said with a calm smile:

— Nothing. I just wanted to hear you — he replied, with that low, honeyed voice reserved only for you.

And that’s when hell broke loose.

@NOOOOOOOOOOO: HE SAID LOVE LIVE ON AIR!

@IGOTOUTOFTHISWORLD: THAT VOICE. THAT VOICE. THAT VOICE.

@INEEDAIR: SHE'S AT ZARA AND HE CALLS HER. WHY IS THIS SO REAL?

@ICRYFORTHEM: SHE SAID “WHAT ARE YOU DOING” AND HE ANSWERED “NOTHING.” THEY’RE DESTROYING ME

@20KBITSWELLSPENT: IT WAS WORTH EVERY BIT. EVERY SINGLE ONE.

@SHOPPINGQUEEN: SHE’S SHOPPING AND HE CALLS TO HEAR HER VOICE? SHUT UP, I’M CRYING IN PUBLIC!

@IMBREAKING: WHO SAYS “I JUST WANTED TO HEAR YOU”? WHO DOES THAT AND SURVIVES?

@HAPPYLIVES: THAT’S IT. THIS IS A DRAMA. THIS IS NOT REAL.

@LOVEONLOUDSPEAKER: I NEED TO BE LOVED LIKE THIS. HOW DO YOU DO IT?

@THISISNOTADRILL: GOJO, STOP. YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HALF THE FANDOM

@OFFICIALLYDECLARE: HER VOICE IS SOFT. HE LISTENS LIKE IT’S A PRIVILEGE

— Are you busy? — you asked, not knowing your voice had just been archived by thousands of people in their brains and hearts forever.

— For you, never — he said with a little smile, resting his elbow on the table like this was an intimate video call... and not a stream watched by over a hundred thousand people.

@IMDEAD: HE SAID “FOR YOU, NEVER.” FOR YOU, NEVER!!!!!

@BREATHEFORGOD: LIVE FLIRTING. PUBLIC FLIRTING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

@HEROESOFMYHEART: I THOUGHT I WAS IN GOJO’S STREAM, NOT IN A LOVE STORY

— I’m just... at Zara. I saw something I thought you’d like — you kept saying, while the world melted in real time.

— What?

— A white shirt, one of those you like.

@SHEKNOWSWHATSHELIKES: SHE KNOWS WHAT SHIRTS HE LIKES!!!

@STOPEVERYTHING: WHO AUTHORIZED HER TO BE THIS PERFECT?

@GOJOSWIFECONFIRMED: NO DOUBT LEFT. THIS WOMAN EXISTS AND HAS HIM IN LOVE

— Send me a photo — he said, completely shameless, ignoring that the entire world was listening to every word with teary eyes.

— Okay, but don’t ignore me, okay? — you whispered sweetly.

— Never — and the monitor in front of him reflected for a second that silly, in-love smile.

@IMSOFEDUP: ENOUGH!!!! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE

@LOVEEXISTS: IF THEY EXIST, LOVE DOES TOO

@BREATHETOGETHER: SERIOUSLY, STOP. I’M CRYING IN THE WORK BATHROOM

— Did you buy anything yet or are you still doubting as always? — he joked, leaning further back in the chair.

— I’m looking... there’s a pretty dress too, but I don’t know which of the three to pick — you answered with a little laugh.

— Everything you wear looks spectacular. Literally. Everything — he replied without thinking twice.

@IMSCREAMING: HOW CAN I GET SOMETHING LIKE THAT?

@BREATHEWITHME: I’M. H-Y-P-E-R-V-E-N-T-I-L-A-T-I-N-G.

@EVERYTHINGCONFIRMED: THEY CALL, THEY FLIRT, THEY KNOW EACH OTHER’S CLOTHES… THEY’RE MARRIED, END

— How dramatic — you replied, though he could already imagine your smile, and that was enough for him.

— Dramatic, but sincere.

@StopThis: THE TONE. THE TONE. HOW DO YOU TALK TO SOMEONE LIKE THAT AND STILL BE ALIVE?

@NowEverythingMakesSense: THAT’S WHY THEY CURE WITH YOUR SOUP. BECAUSE YOU TALK LIKE THAT

— Do you want me to buy you something? — you asked, switching to sweet mode like nothing happened.

— Yes. But only if you send me a photo of you trying it on.

@ImBurningUp: OH PLEASE! HOW EMBARRASSING, GOJO!

@I’mShaking: THIS IS PRIVATE NOW. WE’RE IN HIS LIVING ROOM WITHOUT PERMISSION

@GojoNoFilter: HE’S ON STREAM, HE FORGOT!

— Satoru… — your voice sounded between amused and exasperated — Now that I remember, weren’t you doing something?

There was a brief silence.

Then he burst out laughing.

— Ah, right — he said between laughs — I was on stream.

@NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO: THEY TOLD HIM!!! SHE DIDN’T KNOW!!!!

@DeadlyGojo: SATORU!!! YOU CALLED HER LIVE AND SHE DIDN’T KNOW???

@That’sWhyIt’sReal: IT’S SO REAL SHE DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER SHE HAD AN AUDIENCE

@100KWitnesses: WE WERE HERE. WITNESSES TO THIS ROMANTIC MOVIE

— WHAT? YOU’RE ON STREAM!? — you asked, stopping dead.

— Yup — he answered, totally shameless — Six hundred eighty thousand people just fell in love with you, just so you know.

@Confirmed: OFFICIAL. WE ALL FELL IN LOVE

@SheOwnsEverything: THE VOICE. THE WAY HE TALKS TO HER. THE SWEETNESS. IT SWEPT ME AWAY

@NowWeGetHer: AND WE WERE CRITICIZING. YOU DESERVE GOJO, QUEEN

— Oh, Satoru… how embarrassing. — Your voice was soft, nervous, but sweet.

— Embarrassed? Everyone’s dead in love with you. They just asked me to propose to you live.

@IAlreadySaidIt: CONFIRMED, HE PROPOSES ON THE NEXT STREAM

@SatoruAndHer: I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANY OTHER COUPLE NOW

— Hang up already, dummy — you whispered laughing, and he nodded with a soft smile.

— See you at home, love. I love you.

— Me too.

And he hung up.

For a moment, he said nothing. He just stared at the screen with a silly smile on his lips, while the chat kept exploding.

@ThatWasTooMuch: I’M GOING TO LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR

@StreamOfTheDecade: THIS STREAM SHOULD WIN AN AWARD

@GonnaMuteMyself: I NEED TO PROCESS ALL THIS

— Well… — Satoru finally broke the silence with a mischievous tone — I think that was enough emotional trauma for today, right?

@INeedMore: NO, DON’T CLOSE. MORE, MORE, MORE

@NoHealingYet: WE NEED GROUP THERAPY RIGHT NOW

— See you on the next stream, chat. I don’t know if we’ll get over this… but we’ll try.

And with one last smile, he ended the broadcast.

Black screen. Chat crashing. Hearts exploding.

And somewhere in the world, you smiled unaware you had left half the planet in love with you.

[andy-15-07]

hi not sure if you’ve done this before but id LOVE a fic with pedro pascal helping reader through a depressive episode! completely understandable if you wouldn’t feel comfortable tho. maybe pedro gets home to find reader still in bed/sleeping on the couch and he already knows that she hasn’t taken care of herself all day but he asks her anyway (stuff like have you eaten, have you been out, when was the last time you showered). and then just description of him helping her do these things whilst reader is kind of fighting the help a little bit? like she doesn’t want to be a burden but deep down knows she needs the help. loads of praise and hurt/comfort and fluff!!!!! you are such a great writer im in love with all your fics ☺️☺️

Even If You Can’t Move, I’ll Be Here

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 939| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist II

The key turned softly in the lock.

Pedro pushed the door open with one shoulder, balancing a paper bag of groceries in one hand and your favorite takeout in the other. He wasn’t expecting a grand greeting , he hadn’t gotten one in days , but the quiet stillness in the apartment hit him like a sigh.

You weren’t on the bed.

You were curled up on the couch again. Same oversized hoodie. Same blanket from the night before. Curtains still drawn, the faint smell of stale coffee lingering in the air. Pedro’s heart clenched.

He set the bags down gently, not wanting to startle you, though he wasn’t sure you’d even notice.

You did.

Barely.

A flutter of your eyes, then a quick glance away. No smile. Just the sinking guilt in your chest and the shame you couldn’t explain. Your throat felt tight before he even said anything.

Pedro crouched beside you, hand brushing your arm. “Hi, cariño.”

You swallowed hard. “Hi.”

He tilted his head. “Did you eat today?”

A pause.

“Not really.”

“Get outside at all?”

You shook your head.

He hesitated before asking gently, “When was the last time you showered?”

You almost wanted to laugh , not because it was funny, but because it made you feel even more disgusting. The tears started building before you could stop them.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Pedro sat down beside you, arms opening before you could even blink. You fell into them like you always did , like gravity , and he held you close without a word.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re just… tired. And that’s okay.”

“I feel gross.”

“You’re not.”

“I haven’t done anything today.”

“You’re still mine. And I still love you.”

Your face crumpled against his shoulder.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to take care of yourself. It was that every little task , getting up, brushing your teeth, opening a window , felt like climbing a mountain barefoot in the snow.

Pedro didn’t rush you. Just let you cry quietly for a while, his hand running slowly up and down your back. When your sobs faded into shaky silence, he pulled back to look at you.

“Okay,” he said softly. “We’re gonna do a few little things together, alright?”

You started to protest, but he kissed your forehead.

“Not all of them. Just a few. I’ll help.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered.

Pedro’s eyes softened.

“You could never be. You’re the person I love most in this world. And I want to take care of you, even when it’s hard. Especially then.”

You looked down at your hands. “I don’t think I can do everything.”

“Then we’ll do the smallest version of everything.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means… we start with one thing. Like brushing our teeth. Together. I’ll even let you pick my toothpaste like a little gremlin.”

That got a soft, tired laugh from you.

“Then we can try something else. Maybe a shower. And then food. Doesn’t have to be fancy. Just something. You can wear one of my shirts after, if that helps.”

You nodded slowly, still unsure, still hollow , but his voice felt like a lighthouse in the dark.

Pedro stood and reached for your hands. “C’mon. Let’s start with the bathroom.”

You followed, moving slowly, socked feet shuffling along the hardwood. It felt weird to be upright. But it also felt a little like relief.

In the bathroom, Pedro handed you your toothbrush with a small smile and squeezed toothpaste onto it.

“There. Hard part’s over.”

You managed to copy him, brushing in slow, lazy circles. He stood beside you, doing the same, humming something off-key under his breath. It made you snort a little, and he beamed at the sound.

“See?” he said, rinsing. “You’re killin’ it already.”

You rolled your eyes. “Barely.”

“But you are,” he said firmly. “And I’m proud of you.”

The words settled in your chest like warmth. Like maybe they were enough to anchor you here, in this body, in this space where someone loved you even at your lowest.

Next was the shower.

Pedro didn’t rush you. He handed you clean towels and a fresh T-shirt (one of his) and sat on the edge of the bed while you stood under the warm water, letting it wash over the weight clinging to your bones.

You cried a little again , not because you were sad, exactly. Just… tired. Just overwhelmed.

And when you stepped out, eyes red, Pedro wrapped you in a towel like it was armor and kissed your cheek.

“You did it,” he said, grinning. “I’m so proud.”

You curled up next to him in bed afterward while he brought the food , your favorite noodles, not too hot, with broth on the side. You only ate a few bites, but he didn’t push. Just smiled and kissed your temple.

“This isn’t forever,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms as you laid back down. “I know your brain’s lying to you right now. But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You buried your face in his chest.

“I don’t feel like myself.”

“That’s okay. I’ll hold the pieces until you do.”

Tears pricked your eyes again , but this time, they weren’t so sharp. More like a release.

Pedro pulled the blanket up around you both and whispered again, “I love you. Every version of you. Even this one.”

And for the first time in days, you believed it might be true.

[twilightsumu]

for our eyes only?

connection: r. sukuna x fem!reader

synopsis: your only fans is thriving, especially when your boyfriend films himself filling you up.

content warning: modern au, non curse au, nsfw, mdni, smut, only fans (might have gotten somethings incorrect), established relationship between reader and sukuna, rough sex, hair pulling, biting, spitting, oral (fem receiving), smacking, dirty talk, crude language, name calling (slut, whore), p in v, unprotected, creampie, cum play, consensual recording.

(1) notification: this was actually supposed to be gojo’s one shot! while editing, i felt like sukuna was more suited. i could not be happier with it!

wc: 2.8K (finally learned to stfu!)

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“What’s winning at the moment?” 

“Anal.” 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

Sitting on the couch in front of you, your pink haired boyfriend (slash manager — he sees red when you leave that out) responds with a gruff. One of those scoffs he pretends is a laugh. 

His crimson colored eyes locked on the laptop on his thick thighs. Shirtless — the hazy light coming from the kitchen behind you gleaming on his tattoos. His grey sweats hanging loosely on his hips. A lazy dominance weighing heavy in the stilled room. 

“Just fucking with you,” he drawls out, finally lifting his eyes to look at you. “It’s actually creampie and cum play.” 

You circle the coffee table to stand in front of him, your knee brushing his as you lightly lean into him. Your hands planting themselves on his shoulders. His huge hand not hovering over the small mousepad, instantly grabbing your waist. The hold is rough and tense, just like him. 

“I could do with that.” You smile down at him. He rolls his eyes, his thumb tapping on the mouse pad to keep the screen lit. 

“What if I rig it?” He asks almost innocently. But, nothing about Sukuna is innocent. You could only squeeze his shoulder and let out a breathy laugh. 

“Why the hell do you want to do it in my ass so badly?” 

“I fucked every other hole. Might as well finish the set.” 

“You haven’t fucked my ear,” you snort.  

“Can you shut the fuck up?” His hand on your waist is now rubbing down his tired face. You press your lips together to keep your laughter at bay. 

“Cosplaying and a foot job are also options. We have three minutes till the poll is up and creampie and cum play is at,” he stops and looks back at the laptop. “Sixty eight percent.” He deadpans. 

You tilt your head as you look down at him. His lips in its usual snarl, his eyes narrowed at the screen. You could almost hear him counting down the seconds. 

“You don’t wanna cum in me or something?” 

“I always do,” he shrugs, your hand shifting along with his shoulders. “But, you built this little dystopian world where men choose where I cum.” 

“They do pay our bills.” One of your hands creep up the nape of his thick neck. Your fingers slightly running along his undercut. He slightly leans in, his head pushing into your hand. You have to bite your lip to force your comment about affection down. 

He looks up at you, his hand coming up to shut the laptop. Boredom evident in his stare. 

“And ask you to role play as a tree,” he nudges your hip, making you step back as he stands up from the couch. Your arms falling to your sides. “So maybe we shouldn’t fucking trust them with our financial endeavors.” 

“So you won’t fuck me if I was a tree?” You hum as you shiver at the feel of heat coming off of his chest. 

“If this is another if I was a worm question, I’m  going to fucking lose it.” You hear the dry chuckle that wants to escape.

“What if I was a real sexy willow tree or something?” 

“And what would my cum be?” He stares at you. His nose scrunches, eyebrows pulling together, as if he’s really thinking this through. “Fertilizer?” 

“Well, technically… yes.” His lips curl, and you can’t help but throw your head back from laughter. One of your hands reaching to grab onto his solid chest. 

You barely have time to yelp before you’re hoisted  like you weigh nothing. Your chest pressed to his back, view upside down, his hand coming down hard on your ass. A smack full of irritation and affection, typical. 

“I’m choosing what we’re filming next. And no god damn tree shit.”

Sukuna’s rough hand is sliding up your spine, palm flat and warm until it finds the back of your neck. You’re on all fours — your knees pushing into the bedding below you, your palms laid flat on either side of you. 

“Stay just like that,” he mutters — his grip is firm, familiar, and heavy with intention. 

From the corner of your eye, the red light blinks steady on the camera. This was supposed to be for work, content. Bills do not pay themselves. But, the second his breath fans against the back of your thighs, and the cool air brushes your wet cunt everytime he shifts — any idea of perfect angles for the viewers is thrown out the fucking window. 

You don’t have time to even mention anything about it. 

Just his mouth, wet and unrelenting meeting your pussy. His tongue drags through your folds, like he too forgot about the camera. 

You gasp, spine arching on instinct. Your hips pushing back, his mouth opening accepting more. His grip on your neck tightens. You’re not sure if it’s to ground you or acting as a warning. 

The flat of his tongue presses hard, dragging along your folds, meeting your clit. Instantly, he’s groaning, low and hungry — the sound vibrating straight through to your core. 

“Shit,” you breathe out. Your arms are starting to feel weak as you struggle to hold yourself up. 

With nothing more than a grunt, his tongue laps at your clenching hole. His hand starts trail down from your neck, roughy fingertips navigating your spine until it’s on your plush ass. He squeezes once, a rough one that makes you yelp as you try to look over your shoulder. Then he lifts it and brings it back down with a sharp slap you sure the camera picked up on. 

You jolt, a moan ripping through your chest. You’re sure you feel him grin. 

Another slap. And instead of pulling away, you’re pushing back into his mouth. Your ass throbbing under his palm. 

You feel your pussy getting wetter — the heat warming between your thighs. He grunts against you when he feels the gush of slick, his tongue flicking faster, meaner. His nose nudging your hole as he devours you. 

All you could do is try to hold yourself up on wobbly arms, helplessly moan, and throw looks at the camera. You know, for content. 

You feel him pull back and you let out a whimper. Your chin drops to your chest as you let out a gasp. 

“Such a pretty pussy for a fucking whore,” he rasps, his voice low and wrecked. Cocky. “Can’t believe I let other men watch me devour it.” 

You shiver, words stuck on your tongue. A weak mewl is the only thing you could pull out your throat. 

He chuckles, that low, dry one. The one he knows gets you dripping. His hands are still on your ass — now spreading you apart. You could picture his hungry eyes looking you over. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know his tongue is licking over his bottom lip. 

You push back a bit, missing his mouth on you. You feel his face inch closer and before his tongue meets your wet heat — he spits directly onto your cunt. The slick sound of it makes your stomach tighten and nipples harden.

You gasp — hot and loud. And before you could even think, he’s diving back in. Tongue hot, his finger gripping onto your hips. 

All you could hear is your strangled moans, Sukuna’s slurping, and the shakiness of your arms under you. 

His hands spread your wider, wet sound following as he pulls away. 

“Shit, look at you,” he mutters, voice all gravel. Your nipples harden at the tone. “You want me to fuck you like this?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. You turn your head, looking over your shoulder. You’re met with Sukuna’s shit-eating grin, his eyebrows cocked up teasingly. His hands squeeze your ass rougher. 

“Louder. You know they love to hear you begging.” He teases, his voice low. He cocks a thumb towards the camera. Your eyes catch the light again. 

“Do they or is it you?” You start to shift, arms falling below you. You want to tease some more, watch the tick in his jaw as you joke around. 

Slap!

He has you by the hips, your left ass cheek stinging. He’s dragging you back until your thighs are flushed against his. His cock pressing into your thigh. Thick, hard, and unforgiving — you push back 

Your arms are trembling, barely keeping you upright. You’re smiling, giving the camera exactly what it wants. Sukuna would have fun with editing. 

He chuckles — low and heady. A sharp squeeze to your hips, and then the head of this thick cock pressing in your wet entrance. 

You suck in a breath so hard, it burns your chest. Your back arches — ass pushing back involuntary, moving so that you could have him touch exactly where you need him too. You moan, your head dropping forward as your arms barely keep you up. 

“You’re a smartass you know?” Sukuna groans, dragging his hips back slowly. You feel every movement — the twitch in his right thigh, his fingers tapping on your hip, your pussy clinging to his hard cock. “With a cunt that takes me so well.” 

Without warning — he slams back in, bottoming out. The sound of skin slapping harshly snaps through the room. He doesn’t even let you adjust. A brutal pace as his hips meet your ass. 

Your hands are gripping the sheets, trying to keep steady. The sounds of your squelching pussy meeting his cock from each thrust competing with your moans. 

One thrust is so forceful, his tip meeting your cervix — your body jolts forward. Your arms give out on you as your chest meets the bed. 

“Let them see your face,” your back arching as he yanks you by your hair. “Show them who you’re a slut for.”

Teary eyed, mouth agape, your arms shakily holding you up again, drool starting to pool down your chin as he ruts in you deeper. He’s bullying your gummy walls with every rough thrust, the tip of his cock keeps catching that soft, spongey spot inside you. 

The hand not in your hair snakes around your throat. Not yet choking. His fingertips slightly pressing in, reminding you of what he could do. 

You have a comment on the tip of your tongue. You think you do. But his hips driving into yours steals the air from your lungs. And now, you could really only focus on your thighs shaking, your arms completely giving out. You collapse into the sheets, drool soaking the fabric along with your slick between your legs. 

He leans over you, chest brushing your back, his breath heavy as it hits the top of your spine. You feel just how deep he’s in you in this position. You feel his lips leave the lightest kiss on your shoulder blade, your head turning to the side to meet his eyes. Then, he bites into the curve of your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. His hips don’t slow for a second — just keep grinding, brutal and deep.

“Cum in me,” you’re babbling. Moans and desperate mewls as you struggle to keep up with his brutal pace. Your hips barely backing into his before he’s thrusting harshly into your pussy. 

“No shit,” he huffs, his breath still fanning where he just bit you. “Creampie did win. I’m fair.”

His thrusts get sloppier, his heavy ballsack hitting your clit as he continues to fuck into you. His hips are still snapping into yours, but more desperate . Less control, like he’s chasing your high and his. 

He lowly groans your name in your ear. His teeth grazing your ear lobe. 

Then it hits. The room gets all white, Sukuna feels heavier on top of your back. One final thrust that causes a sharp cry out of you and a rough groan from him. You feel him bottom out, his thick cock pulsing inside of you. You feel the warmth as he spills in you, filling you so full, your stomach flutters.

“Fuck,” he grits out. The hand still on your throat slightly squeezing, the other one gripping your hip. Like he’s grounding himself to your limp body on your shared bed. 

You’re both panting, so you don’t register him pulling out until you feel the slow, thick slide of cum leaking from your pussy. A gush of warmth trailing down your thighs. An airy whimper leaving your lips. 

“Turn over,” he mutters, his strong hands already guiding you. 

You whimper, your thighs shaky and soaked. You blink up at him as he ‘softly’ manhandles you, your back meeting the bed with a plop. His eyes are determined. He gets like this whenever he thinks of another shot. 

He reaches back for the camera. His free hand grabbing your thigh as he starts to inch down on the bed. His chest guiding along your body.

Your thighs press together, sticky with his cum and your slick. Twitches and trembles rack your legs, his hand still on your thigh, gripping. You’re a mess, you don’t even have to watch the video back to know that. 

With his face, once again, mere inches away from your pussy. He angles the camera to get the perfect shot of your wrecked pussy. His hand roughly shoving your thigh open, hooking it over his shoulder.

No warning, you feel his fingers. Two of them — his index and middle finger roughing sliding through your folds. No easing them in, just his cum and slick being fucked back into you. 

You watch as his hand not pumping into your pussy grabs the camera so he could move it closer. He shows the camera how perfectly you stretch around him, fingers pumping slow. 

You drop from your elbows, your eyes shutting. A moan escaping your dry lips. The squelching of your pussy is loud and obscene. 

“A whore filled to the brim.” He mutters, his voice low and mean. “You love me stuffing you, huh?” 

You nod, barely thinking, barely hearing him honestly. 

Then, when you’re sure you’re about to cum for the second time. His fingers slip out, a wet noise following their escape. You lift your head — watching him eye his fingers that are covered in his cum and your slick. He moves the camera along to show his fingers. 

His eyes on yours, he brings his fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirling over his fingers. Like he’s licking his favorite ice cream flavor off the spoon. 

He moves up the bed, his movements slow and haunting. His body hovering over yours. The fingers that were just in your cunt are harshly tapping your chin. 

You open your mouth — tongue out, needy, eyes locked on his. 

He smirks, letting everything be lapped up, fall. 

He spits it straight into your mouth — a warm mix of his thick release and your own slick. He watches it pool on your tongue before you swallow, moaning around it. Your eyes never leave the other — even with the camera acting as a barrier between you. 

“Fuck,” he smirks. His voice caught somewhere between wrecked and proud. The camera dropping out of his hands as he leans towards you. “Maybe they made the right decision.” 

One of his hands grabs onto your chin, pulling your face to his. His lips are instantly locking with yours. The kiss is all tongue and teeth, messy and claiming. His teeth nipping into your bottom lip as his other hands grips into your hair, pushing you even closer. 

He pulls away, both of you breathing heavy. Your spit on his lips and his on yours. You don’t miss the way his shit eating grin has became that soft smile he reserved for you. 

“You good baby?” He hums against your lips. You can’t help but smile.

“Mhm,” you hum, your forehead meeting his heaving chest. 

One hand still cradling your face, the other tangled in your hair. You have to remind yourself to get this clip before he edits the video. Just for you. So you could go back to it whenever you want. 

You shift your head so that your eyes could meet his hazed ones. 

“We could do anal next time,” you whisper. His eyebrows shoot up in anticipation. You fight the giggle wanting to escape. “Under one condition.”

“It’s not going to be normal,” he rolls his eyes. His sigh is long and heavy. You can’t help but laugh. Your hand running along his rib cage. 

“I’ll be a sexy tree. Like a super sexy Ginkgo tree.” 

“For fucks sake.” 

Poll Winner!

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Comments:

blueyedemon 😈: I would suck him off just to get a hint of a taste of her 

yn: pass 

maskedfreak: kinda mad she didn’t go tree 

yn : watch National Geographic or something weird fuck

guruonmyknob: ngl I know I could fuck her better

yn: 35.7274457, 139.7337452 

guruonmyknob: ?

guruonmyknob: wait??? 

“Sukuna, did you seriously just reply with someone’s geographical coordinates?” 

skipped the fluff (for now) and went to smut… it’s your turn! @edensrose

© twilightsumu. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or plagiarise my work.

[sunariiiiiiin]

Dirty Little Secret

shameless smut, sneaky link! Hajun, reader as Wooin's lil sis LMAO

sex with you was always good. that much was obvious.

/but fucking in your brother’s kitchen? now that was something else.

you’re perched on the edge of the counter, cold granite digging into your ass, shirt pulled enough to showcase your body to his hazed eyes, knees slung over joker’s tattooed arms as he thrusts up into you with the kind of reckless rhythm that makes your brain go static. the only light in the room spills from the cracked fridge door—painting you both in a sinful glow.

“a-ah, joker—fuck—stop—ngh—stop growling—” you pant, voice catching as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, low, primal sounds vibrating against your skin.

he doesn’t stop. of course he doesn’t.

he only groans louder, lips dragging down your collarbone before he sinks his teeth into the top of your chest—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp, back arching straight into his hands.

his grip shifts—one hand still braced under your thigh, the other sneaking up between your bodies to grab a handful of your tits. you feel dwarfed by him, like you always do when he’s got you like this—huge frame caging you in, wide hands easily covering more of you than they should. he groans again, rough and obscene, like he’s been thinking about this all week.

“fuck, i missed these,” he mutters, mouth trailing messily over the curve of your breast as he thumbs your nipple, watching it pebble under his palm. “you always wear those tight little tops when i’m around, too. like you want me to lose it.”

you whimper, head tipping back as he plays with you—rolling, pinching, sucking, until you’re panting his name through your teeth.

“you’re the one sneaking me in, babe,” he pants, hips still snapping up into you, filthy and fast. “middle of the night, no panties, acting all innocent while your tits bounce in my face—fuck.”

you cover your mouth with one hand, the other clinging to the back of his neck as whatever was behind you creaks against both your weight. he shifts again, letting both hands take your ass now, dragging you closer to the edge so he can drive in deeper, rougher—like he’s trying to leave you ruined for anyone else. the stretch is still unreal, every time—it’s not just the thickness, it’s the way he fills every inch of you, like you were made to take it.

“you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he groans, breath ragged. “keep clenching like that and you’re gonna make me cum right here, next to your brother’s goddamn sink.”

your moans are muffled against your palm, but your body gives you away—tightening, shaking, begging for it. he leans in, biting your lip, tongue tangling with yours, one hand slipping back up to squeeze your tits again like he can’t get enough.

“say it,” he mutters against your mouth, voice wrecked. “say you love it. say you love being my dirty little secret.”

you nod, lips brushing his as you whisper, “i love it. i love it, joker. don’t stop.”

he grins, cocky and wild. worthy of his name.

“then keep quiet, baby—unless you want your brother to walk in and see what a filthy little slut you really are.”

his words make your cunt flutter around him, a high-pitched gasp breaking through your throat before you can stop it. his grin only widens.

“mm, just like that,” he murmurs, fucking you harder now, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the kitchen, masked only by the hum of the fridge and the quiet, desperate whines slipping past your bitten lips.

he pulls back just enough to watch—your tits bouncing with every sharp thrust, your flushed chest heaving, pupils blown wide and glassy. he’s so much bigger than you like this, every movement sending your smaller body jolting back against the counter with no effort at all. his thumb drags up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, catching your bottom lip to smear the spit pooling there.

“look at you,” he pants. “ruined. and we haven’t even gotten to dessert.”

his hand slides between your bodies again, fingers slipping down to your clit, already throbbing and soaked. he rubs tight, filthy circles over it, making your thighs twitch against his ribs.

“you gonna cum for me right here, sweetheart?” he asks, tone smug and low. “you gonna cream on my cock with your brother just down the hall?”

your mouth opens but no words come—just a choked cry as your orgasm hits you hard and fast, clenching around him so tight he curses, forehead dropping to yours.

he doesn’t stop moving—not when you start shaking, not when you sob his name like a prayer, nails digging crescents into his back. he fucks you through it, through the aftershocks, through the tremble in your thighs, until he’s right there with you—his thrusts sloppier, more desperate.

“shit—fuck, baby—where do you want it?” he groans, voice fraying at the edges.

your fingers fist in his hair, tugging him closer as you whisper, “inside. want you to fill me up.”

his eyes roll back as he buries himself to the hilt, growling into your mouth as he spills inside you—hot, thick, possessive.

you both stay there for a second, breathless and trembling, his cum already dripping down your thigh.

then, after a beat, he laughs softly, still pressed to your chest. “next time,” he mutters, kissing your collarbone, “we’re trying the laundry room.”

you snort, weakly smacking the back of his head. “you’re such a menace.”

he grins, still buried deep inside you.

“yeah. but i’m your menace.”

[teamchasezwrites]

MASH

Word Count: 7,991

Characters: Damian Priest/You

Genre: Smut

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex,

Summary: Damian finds a torn piece of paper with a list of men on it in your handwriting. He’s gotta know it’s just part of a silly 90s teen game and not a list of men you want to fuck, right? Right?!

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @eringobragh420 and her upcoming birthday! Surprise! I hope you enjoy this. Happy early birthday!

This is my first time writing from the “you” perspective. I’m not sure I like it. I hope it’s not too bad.

You knew he was mad.

He didn’t tell you. No that wasn’t Damian’s style. It aggravated you to no end but in the three years you’ve been together it just became one of the things you’ve learned to live with. One of his quirks.

A meme you recently saw while doom scrolling Facebook jumped to mind: If he’s angry, show him your boobs.

The idea held merit but you didn’t want just give in. You had no idea the cause of his anger. By the side eye he was giving you it didn’t take a genius to figure out you had to be the cause. You just didn’t know what you did to cause it. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask if it was his time of the month, but you were certain that would definitely cause his anger to increase tenfold. You knew what it would do to you if he asked you the same question but he wasn’t that stupid. He may think it on occasion but he wasn’t a big enough idiot to actually open his mouth and voice the question.

The downside to Damian’s silent anger was it was slowly stoking yours. Usually you were able to ignore him when he got like this, but unfortunately for you – and him – you were slated to start your period in a couple days. At this point in your cycle breathing wrong near you could cause you to combust. If you had sleeves you’d be pushing them up at the moment and taking out your earrings to start a fight. This time you just let your own anger slowly fester with each glance in your direction and with each heavy foot and thud of items being moved or put down.

You had just gotten back from a two week overseas European tour with Damian. Now it was time to unpack the suitcases you may not have overpacked plus souvenirs you picked up in every city. You drug Damian up and down nearly every sidewalk looking for the perfect item. It was getting clothes cycled through the laundry. Toiletry items put away. Replenishing the items in Damian’s travel bag he would be using again in just five short days. Then it was tidying up an already clean apartment. You hated to leave the place a mess before a trip so it was clean but there was a thin layer of dust on the surfaces. While you were doing that, Damian was making a shopping list.

And allowing cupboards to slam shut. Each time the wood hit the jam caused your eye to twitch and your shoulders to ratchet up until your neck nearly disappeared.

“What is your problem!” You roared when the fruit drawer in the fridge shut hard enough you were certain it caused a crack. You slammed the the Pledge canister in your hand down on the counter.

In a move that sent her anger dangerously close to exploding through the top of the capillary tube he looked at you over his shoulder with his eyebrows cocked. “I don’t have a problem.”

The flash in his dark eyes belayed that comment. So did the pursing of his lips into thin lines as his jaw clenched so hard a muscle in his cheek twitched.

Much like your eye.

“Right,” you drew out with a chuckle. “That’s why you slammed the fruit storage drawer so hard it nearly shot out the back. The entire washer nearly collapsed when you shut the lid.”

“It did not.”

The eye roll did it. Like a gun shot in the air from the starter’s hand sending the runners off the line, your anger spilled over. “The fuck it didn’t! You’ve been stomping around here like an ogre from practically the moment we walked through the door. I’m surprised you haven’t fallen through the floor and landed on poor Mrs. Garcia.”

Mrs Garcia was a nice old lady who lived in the apartment below them. You weren’t sure her age but you guessed her to be in her 90s. You were too afraid to ask. Casual conversation with some of the current tenants in the apartment passed from previous ones had them all figuring she came new with the building from the 60s. Rumor was she was 90 back then too.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

The eye roll had you grinding your teeth so hard you were certain your dentist would admonish you on your next visit. If you made it there because right now you had visions of wrapping your hands around Damian’s pretty little neck and cutting off his air supply until it wasn’t anger flashing in those captivating dark pools.

“You’re really going to stand there and tell me you’re not in a mood?”

“Not in a mood.”

Your eyes narrowed watching as Damian turned away from you and actually left the kitchen leaving you standing there alone. You bristled and released the white knuckled grip you held on the microfiber dusting cloth leaving it lay on the counter next to the can of Pledge. You made your way into the bedroom purposefully ignoring Damian who was now sifting through his travel backpack. You knew he was taking stock in the contents. The backpack never truly got unpacked after trips. Items such as chargers stayed tucked inside. It cut down on time and anxiety. With Damian being gone every weekend, it just made sense to have somethings earmarked as travel only.

You pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it into the hamper. Your pants followed. You were reaching behind your back to unclip your bra when Damian spoke.

“I know what you’re doing.”

You could feel his eyes on you. You always could. Your body would tingle and begin to simmer. It was the same when he entered a room no matter how many people were present. There was an awareness of his presence even when you couldn’t physically see him. Your connection had always been strong even before you started dating.

“I’m not doing anything,” you simply stated as you let the bra fall down your arms. Damian’s deep chuckle caused goosebumps on your arms. Your nipples pebbled and you the felt wetness build between your folds. You damned him in your mind for his ability to turn you on with the littlest of things. A laugh of all things and you were ready to forget your anger and jump him.

“I saw that reel too Princesa. I told you I’m not in a mood but if you want to show me your tits, I’m not gonna complain.”

“I am not showing you my tits. I’m going to take a shower and wash off the traveling.” You pushed your underwear down your legs. Satisfaction filled you when you heard the choked groan as you bent to pick the article of clothing off the floor. You deposited it into the hamper and walked to the bathroom ignoring Damian.

“Aren’t we going to the store?”

His voice filled the bathroom indicating he followed you. You shivered but refused to give in. You kept your back to him as you reached into the shower stall. A flick of the wrist brought a cascade of cool water raining down.

“You and your not-in-a-mood can go. I’m too exhausted from the flight to play that game today. You don’t want to tell me what’s wrong? Fine.” You shrugged feeling a splash of hurt join your simmering anger. You just wanted to be trusted enough to receive an answer at the first ask. If he didn’t want to tell you… well you refused to beg.

You reached into the small linen closet, still keeping your back to Damian, and grabbed one of the luxurious fluffy towels neatly folded inside. They were a splurge you didn’t feel guilty about but you also never informed your mother of the price for one. A sharp piercing pain went through you remembering the silly arguments you and Damian got into when you first moved in about the proper way to fold towels. He’d eventually given in and yielded to your supreme ways.

You jolted when a warm hand gripped the back of your neck. Fingers pressed into your skin and you were whirled around. Your back slammed against the linen closet door. Hand still cradling the base of your head. Damian’s hard body pressed against your front. The manhandle move paired with the sensation of his fully clothed body against your naked one had your knees weakened into jelly. It was a struggle to lock them. If not for Damian’s body holding you into place you were pretty certain you’d have melted to the floor. A puddle at his feet.

Damian raised your face with a knuckle beneath your chin. Your blown pupils met his eyes. You could read the anger still in their depths but now they were darkened with something else. Your lips remained parted from your gasp of surprise. He loomed over you; your breaths mixing. Your nipples rubbed against the softness of his plain black t-shirt. The sensation running an obstructed path toward your center. Wetness pooled and you pressed your thighs together. Your fingers pressed against the door behind you. The towel lay forgotten on the floor at your feet.

You stared into Damian’s eyes unable to look away; to break the connection. Your anger slowly morphing into something else and you were afraid your earlier thought was a lie. You were close to begging.

“Are you done?”

Damian’s words brought that anger rushing back. With a quick move, your arm broke the hold he had on you and you shoved him away. He stumbled back a half step. The surprise littering his face would have caused you to laugh if you weren’t so angry.

“I’m not dealing with this.” Your eyes narrowed as you glared at him. It was a funny feeling to be turned on and angry at the same time. Part of you wanted to push him back through the bathroom door until he fell onto the bed. Then unzip his jeans to bare his cock to you and sink down on him. The other part truly did want to hold his head under water. “You have been pissed off since we’ve been home. I can practically feel the anger radiating off you. You won’t tell me what’s wrong. I know it has to do with me with the way you’ve been shooting daggers at me. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out what I did and I can’t think of anything. It’s absolutely exhausting trying to tiptoe around you when you get like this. So please,” you could feel tears starting to well in your eyes. “Tell me what I did to piss you off so I can apologize or double down because you know I’m not just going to roll over for you.”

You feared he wasn’t going to do anything. He stood in front of you; the only movement was the shirt stretching further across his chest with each breath he took. A tear crest your eye lid and rolled down your cheek and he spurred into action. You knew he hated to see you cry and you really didn’t mean to right now but the combination of hurt, anger, and an impending period made for a ripe breeding ground.

You watched as Damian reached into the pocket of his medium wash jeans and pulled out a piece of lined notebook paper. The paper was torn; barely even a quarter of the sheet in a crude triangle shape. It was crumbled and crinkled. You could just make out the black ink of written words but couldn’t focus enough to decipher them. You raised your eyes to his; confusion filing across your features.

“When were you going to tell me I wasn’t your first choice?” The paper nearly disappeared in Damian’s large hand as his fingers curled into a fist. The grip belying his anger. “Hell I wasn’t even your second.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at Damian’s words. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“This!” He thrust the paper toward you and you slowly reached for it.

With hesitation in your movements you slowly lowered your hand to the paper you now held in your hands. You blinked in bewilderment at the writing. It was a list of five names:

Punk

Rollins

Damian

Sabin

Cody

The handwriting was unmistakably yours. There were lines drawn through each of the names crossing them out except Damian’s. His was circled roughly five times. A single continuous loop around his name. There were no other markings on the paper.

You couldn’t help it. You started to laugh. A soft giggle at first before you were cackling loudly with glee. Your eyes began to water. Your stomach cramped. Any of the previous anger you felt disappeared immediately. Raising your tear filled gaze, your eyes met Damian’s. While yours were sparkling with merriment, his had darkened considerably. Anger weighing heavily in them.

It took a lot of effort to choke back your laughter. Even so, your lungs heaved as you tried to draw in a breath. There was a stitch in your side and you made a concentrated effort to not lift a hand to massage it.

“You done?”

You peered at him; staring deep into his eyes. You bit back a curse seeing the masked hurt. It was hidden so deeply and you were so blinded by your own irritation and growing anger you failed to see it. You straighten your body; a soft smile on your lips. “Damian… what do you think this is?”

Damian’s lip curled in disgust. Most times the crookedness of his lips when he spoke caused your brain to go offline and turn to mush. Now was no different. Your fingers twitched wanting to reach out and brush your thumb over his lips until they straightened and relaxed. “Obviously a list of guys you wanted. Did you try Punk and Rollins first before settling on me? If I didn’t work out were you just gonna try Sabin next? Then Cody?” He broke off in Spanish that most definitely did not twist your insides.

‘What a dumb idiot,’ you thought. Your lips curved into a smile again.

“You enjoying this Princesa? How would you like it if you found a list of girls I’d like to fuck?”

You blew out a breath and closed your eyes counting to five. You didn’t point out that the imaginary ‘fuck’ list of his would coincidentally be your kill list. “It’s a game Damian.”

“Having a list of men you’d like to fuck is a game?”

“Yes… I mean no,” you stuttered. The eye twitch from earlier slid to the bridge of your nose and morphed into pressure. “It’s not a list of men I’d like to fuck. Haven’t you ever heard of MASH?”

“The old TV show?” Damian’s voice was laced with confusion.

“No,” you groaned and this time you did pinch the bridge of your nose. “The game from junior high and high school. Maybe even elementary.” At his lost look, she sighed. “Come on… MASH. Mansion. Apartment. Shack. House.”

“What are you talking about and what does that have to do with this?” Damian grabbed your wrist and held your hand up. The paper with your list of men waving with the motion.

“You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“Does it look like I know what you’re talking about?”

The poor man looked just as lost as he was last weekend when Jackie Redmond tried teaching him how to make a heart with his fingers. You fell a little bit more in love with him during that adorable moment. Thankfully the lovable dork could defend you during a zombie apocalypse because he definitely failed at popular trends.

You sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the bedroom. You opened the drawer in the bedside side and grabbed the small composition notebook kept there. Turning the notebook to a blank page you quickly filled out the paper with the categories. MASH across the top. Husband and job with enough spaces to list a handful of picks. Then down the right side of the paper she listed money and car. Down at the bottom she put kids. “Ringing any bells?”

Damian shook his head. “What is it?”

“It’s a silly fortune teller game we used to play as pre teens and teens. We’d fill these out with boys we thought were cute in our class or famous celebrities like Zach Morris from Saved By The Bell or Jordan Knight from New Kids on The Block…” This time you wrote Damian’s name for each of the options under husband. “Fill in the money we wanted to make.” You wrote crazy amounts like you did as a kid. The zillion dollars. A billion. Hundred thousand. The one dollar. “Then the jobs you wanted…” One of those was the obvious marine biologist all girls in the 90s wanted to be. Another a doctor. Then a stripper. “Car you wanted to drive… such as a Porsche or Lamborghini.” You also joking wrote horse drawn carriage and MoPed. Lastly you put down options for the numbers of kids. “Now you draw a spiral until the person you’re playing with tells you to stop and then you count the lines.” She drew a random spiral and counted the lines. “You take this number and start counting through everything you wrote down until you’re left with only one option in each category.” You played a round through the game, counting out six and crossing out each option you landed on. “Get it?”

Damian nodded. “Then what’s this?” He motioned toward the ripped paper.

“Naomi and I were goofing around on the plane. We played this. Made one of those origami fortune tellers…” You could tell he was just as lost as before. You tossed the notebook down on the bed, along with your pen. The torn piece from your earlier fun crumbled in your fist into a tiny ball before you tossed it onto the bed with your notebook. Taking a step toward him, you saw his eyes flare. This time not in anger. Warmth curled deep in your belly.

Your hands rested on either of his hips and you took step closer. With your head tilted back to look up at him, your thumbs brushed back and forth over his shirt. His stomach quivered under your touch. “I am not trying to fuck anyone in that locker room but you.”

Damian’s hands cupped your face. He angled your face up pulling you toward him at the same time. The movement caused your hands to grip his hips tighter as you swayed toward him. Your breasts brushed against his t-shirt. The sensation causing them to harden. “Is that right?”

“Is the way I’m dressed not blatant enough for you?”

Damian’s lips stretched into a smirk. The right side of his upper lip crooking up stealing the very breath you breathed. “I thought you weren’t engaging your underhanded tactics on me?”

“Well I wasn’t then…” You said coyly. Your hands moved over his stomach toward the center before they began their ascent up his chest. You could feel the warmth of his skin through his t-shirt. The tiny twitches of his muscles as your hands ran over his stomach and the hard walls of his chest. “But I am now…”

“Is that right…” Damian drawled. His hands brushed over your back. They were rough from years of working the ropes and working out. You shivered as the callouses caught your smooth skin. His hand skimmed down to the curve of your ass and you pressed back against it, popping your ass out slightly. His fingers dug into your flesh as he moved you to him. His cock hard against your belly.

“Is it working?”

“I’m not exactly thrilled you put those names down… you apparently find them attractive enough to pick.”

You rolled your eyes. Your hands moved down to place teasing touches along the waistband of his jeans. “I am not standing in front of any of them buck ass naked ready to sink to my knees and suck their cock.”

Damian’s eyes darkened at her words. “Get on your knees now.”

You hesitated even though you wanted to sink to your knees immediately. His words caused a flush to stain your skin. Your pussy slicked and clenched. You squirmed slightly in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure. “I’m doing this because I want to, not because you told me too.” The words were sassy and your breath caught when his fingers twisted in your hair pulling you back to his body. Your lips a breath away from his. Your breaths mixed and you grew impossibly wetter at the scene.

“Suck my cock Princesa,” Damian’s voice was low; almost a growl and didn’t that cause another flush of wetness between your thighs. “Prove to me you only want my cock between your thighs.”

You whimpered when his hand tightened in your hair. Not in pain though. Your breathing grew shallower, nearly panting. His face blurred in front of you are your pupils dilated. You were close to begging him to fuck you. Just bend you over the bed and ram into you from behind as you howled in pleasure at the invasion.

“You want my cock Princesa?” Damian’s cock pressed painfully against the zipper of his jeans practically begging to be released. The head leaking as he watched your arousal build. You nodded your head against the hold he still held. He grinned. “Show me… show me how you want my cock.”

Like a string being cut, you sank to your knees the moment his hand released its grip. Your knees dug into the flatweave area rug that softened the ambience of the bedroom. Up on your knees your hands held onto his hips and you leaned forward. You buried your face into his crotch, nuzzling the hard ridge. The denim was rough on your skin. You inhaled his scent, moaning softly as it invaded your senses. A shiver worked through you starting and ending at your pussy. You wanted run your hand down your chest, between your breasts, over your stomach and down between you legs. You wanted to slide your fingers through your wetness, slicking them before pressing two deep inside you.

Instead you drew your head back as your hands moved to the front of his jeans. Looking up through your eyelashes you caught his gaze. Chin tucked to chest as he looked down at you with a heated gaze. With the button of his jeans undone, the zipper easily slid down. Tight black boxer briefs awaited you; stretched across a delicious bulge that had your mouth watering. Leaning forward, you mouthed that bulge breathing in the very essence of Damian. A smooth rich scent assaulted you and you moaned softly. Your hands ran up and down the hard muscles of his thighs. The denim rough against your palms. You opened your lips mouthing at his head. The breathy groan from above caused another shiver.

A tug had his cock bouncing free from its confines. It bobbed in front of you gloriously hard and leaking from the tip. The most mouth watering meal you ever been presented with. Your hand circled around the base. The skin silky smooth and hot. Your tongue peaked from beneath your lips as it trailed along your bottom lip leaving behind a glistening wetness.

“Suck my cock Princesa,” Damian groaned as you squeezed his cock. He reached out to run a thumb across your cheek before burying his fingers in your hair. He held you steady and guided you toward his tip. You gladly followed.

You licked the head of his cock with a flat tongue. A salty taste burst on your tongue from the bead of come gathered on the tip. Your moaned joined his. You swept teasing licks across the tip, your hand slowly stroking up from the base. You sucked gently, tongue still engaging in swirling licks around the tip.

You pulled off and lifted the hard cock in your hand. You licked a strip from his balls to his tip following the vein where you sucked it back into your mouth with another round of swirling teasing licks.

“Fuck… your mouth,” Damian groaned, his eyes falling shut as his head fell back.

You moaned around his cock feeling it pulse in your hand. You licked another path from root to tip and drew him back in your mouth. Your hand tightened around him as you slowly began to draw more of him in your mouth. You sank down on his hard length; your tongue working the underside curling up around it. Soon your lips met your curled fingers and you slowly started lifting off leaving behind a trail of wetness. He pulse in your hold again and you squeezed.

With just the tip in your mouth you glanced up at Damian. He stared down at you; his pupils blown wide. Eyes heavy with desire. His hand still threaded in her hair, cupping the back of your head. He wasn’t guiding your movements. He was just sort of holding on. You sent him a wink and sank down on his cock once more. The glide made easier with your saliva already slickening his hard length.

Your lips stretched wide around his ample girth. The weight of his cock on your tongue made your mouth water. This time when your lips met your hand you simply uncurled your fingers until it was just your thumb and forefinger circling Damian. You moved your hold down as you sank further taking more and more of him in your mouth.

“That’s right. Take it all…” Damian groaned tightening his fingers in your hair. His body hummed in pleasure watching his cock disappearing between your lips. “You look so good on your knees for me.”

You moaned at the feel of his tip probing the back of your throat. Your jaw ached and your nose was pressed against the skin at the base of his cock. He was shaved clean; the skin surrounding his cock smooth. His musky scent surrounded you. Your hands gripped his hips, your fingers digging into the denim still covering him. You inched forward on your knees gagging slightly when he pressed into your throat.

“Dios Mio,” Damian breathed feeling your throat closing around him. When you swallowed around his tip his fingers tightened in you hair, twisting the strands in a piercing grip. A quiver worked over his body. One of those full body trembles that weakened his knees. He pulled his hips back, fighting against the suction of your mouth.

You re-gripped his cock with your hand as you lifted your head. The base slippery in your hold. You worked your hand up and down his length; the glide easy. You continued to jerk him off as you sucked the top. The hollowing of your cheeks created a suction so tight it tugged at your lips and caused a groan to fall from Damian’s lips.

You ran your tongue over his head gathering up the pre come. Your eyes fell shut at the flavor. You sank down once more on his full length pressing deeper causing your throat muscles to protest and tears to leak from your eyes. You pulled off completely with a gasping breath as your hand continued to work him. Your free hand moved up his body dipping beneath the t-shirt he still wore. His stomach quivered beneath your touch. His skin warm. You scrapped your nails over his belly as they moved downward to grip his thigh once more.

Holding his cock still, you rubbed the tip over your lips tracing each one like you were applying chapstick. Pre come smeared over your lips and your tongue chased the taste licking it all up until you swallowed him again. Movements picked up as you bobbed your head faster; tongue working the underside as your hand moved up and down at the base meeting your lips and parting only to meet again on the up stroke. Lips and hand working in tandem to draw breathy moans and curses from his lips. You almost dropped your hand between your thighs where your pussy begged to be filled. Folds saturated with your excitement. Clit swollen with arousal.

Instead you grazed your fingertips over his balls. The motion caused a litany of Spanish curses to fall from his lips. He jerked in your mouth and the fingers twisted in your hair was nearing the point of painful. You continued the teasing little tickles as it caused his cock to leak into your mouth. You willingly accepted the offering and deep throated him twice more in quick succession.

You were ripped from his cock with the hand in your hair and pulled to your feet. The dark look in Damian’s eyes was almost enough to make you come. Your lips crashed together and you felt your breath leave your body with a whoosh. Your hands fought for purchased gripping and twisting in the offending t-shirt that kept you from being pressed against his skin. A wave of heat coursed through you at the image you must make. Damian completely clothed in jeans and a shirt. You naked as the day you were born. You wiggled your body against his feeling a sticky wetness trail across your belly from his weeping cock.

You sank into his demanding kiss as his hands moved down your back leaving a trail of fire on your skin from his touch. His hands cupped your ass and his fingers dug into the meaty flesh. With a slight pressure you were lifted in his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist with your ankles crossing at his back locking you to him. Your hands dug into into his shoulders before brushing across to his neck and up where you settled them on his cheeks. His well manicured beard scratched at the skin on the palm of your hands. The sensation creating a firestorm inside your body.

His licked at your lips and you opened on a sigh welcoming him in. His tongue dueled with yours. You whimpered into the kiss as your body heated. Your body flooded with a swirling sensation that caused your core to tighten. You wrapped your arms around his massive shoulders pressing yourself closer to him as he moved deepening the kiss. Softness met your back as he lowered you to the mattress.

The kiss broke with a gasp. Yours. Your heavy desire ridden gaze met his. “Please,” you begged raising your hips up, rubbing shamelessly against him. Your chest heaved causing your breasts to bounce drawing his gaze. A flush swept across your skin igniting your already on fire skin.

“Please what Princesa?” Damian ran his hands up your body, his hands cupping your breasts. His fingers dug into the fleshy globes as he squeezed gently. He pressed his hips into yours and you arched your back into his touch.

“Fuck me Damian,” you moaned. “Please.” He drew another moan from your body when his fingers tweaked your nipples. The buds drawn into hard pebbles. Each tweak… each pinch felt like a straight jolt directly to your clit. You shamelessly rubbed against him. “I need you…”

“You look so gorgeous spread out for me like this…. Beggin for my cock….” Damian grabbed his cock in his hand. He tugged at the hard length a couple times. He hissed at the touch, his eyes nearly closing. Pressing down he ran his cock through your folds. The tip pressing against your sensitive clit.

A low moan fell from your lips at the feeling. The searing heat of his cock against you. You rocked up into him. Your folds soaking his length. Your hands moved across the blanket; fingers gripping and un-gripping the soft cotton. Your hips moved against him as he teased you. “Damian…” his name fell from your lips like a prayer. You would fall to your knees and pray to any deity if it would get his cock inside you.

“Beg Princesa… beg for my cock…”

“Oh God… please Damian….” Your breath stuttered as the head of his cock nudged your clit and your brain seemingly short circuited. Your thighs tightened around his waist urging him forward with a press of your heels into his denim clad ass. “Give me your cock… it’s just you I need… not them… you…” you gasped as his cock speared your folds pushing inside of you slowly so you could feel every inch invading your body. You clamped down on him as he pulled back out in a desperate attempt to keep him inside you.

“This pussy was made for me,” Damian’s voice was strained alerting you to the considerable amount of effort it was taking him to move slowly. He watched his cock slip from your body covered in your creamy essence. He pushed back in, his movements just as slow and restrained as the first. Pussy lips gripping him trying to pull him deeper.

A whine left your lips when you felt him retreat once more. You lifted your hips to push back on his cock. “Damian please… I need it… I need you…” Your body trembled when he pulled completely free to run his cock through your pussy lips again. His heated head nudging your clit with every up stroke. “God Damian…” your hands gripped the comforter again. You unlocked your legs from his waist and caught your heels on the bed frame. You used it as leverage to press your hips up searching for his cock.

His cock was gone but before you could whine in protest, you felt his warm hands at your thighs. Those calloused hands tracing up and down the sensitive soft skin of your inner thighs. You blinked your eyes opened, staring down at him. Your vision blurry from being clenched shut. He dropped to his knees the same time his hands pushed your thighs apart baring you to him.

“Yeeeessss,” you hissed. He wrapped his strong arms around your thighs and pulled you dangerously close to the edge. You felt off balance liked you’d slip right to the floor, but then you felt his hot breath on your pussy and all thought flew from your head.

Your legs trembled in his hold as his breath blew across your dampened folds. Your clit was swollen with need. Each wave of air caused your hips to jerk and your opening to clench. Your breath caught in your throat when he dragged his tongue through your folds licking you from your opening to your clit with a flat tongue. He gathered up every bit of your spilled offering. Your body tense, frozen as Damian nudged your clit with devoted strikes. The pressure in your chest built and suddenly you were gasping for breath, sucking oxygen into your depleted lungs. “Fuck…” the curse fell from your lips as Damian pressed his face deeper into your center. His hardened tongue spearing your folds entering into your body searching for more of your sweet slick.

Your body was on fire. Your hand ran over your stomach and up where you rolled your nipple between your thumb and forefinger. A pinch to the sensitive nub sent a jolt of pleasure right to your center. A gush of liquid Damian lapped up with a moan. Your hand then travelled down your body brushing over his cheek and ear. You cupped the back of his head pressing him closer still. His hair was freshly shaven only the day before and the long strands from the top were pulled back in his ever present bun. With a couple tugs and flicks from your fingers, the elastic band gave way and his hair tumbled down hiding the shaved parts. The strands tickled your inner thighs and you immediately twisted you fingers in it using it as leverage as you held him against your body. Your hips moving against his face.

A finger soon replaced his tongue. The thick digit slipping easily inside of you. You moaned at the invasion wishing it was something bigger… thicker. Nonetheless your pussy clenched just the same. Milking it the same way you would his cock. You raised your hips hoping to send it deeper.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” Damian’s voice vibrated against you sending another round of shock waves through you. “You clenching around me so tightly…” he wrapped his free hand around his cock. The tip leaking, dribbling down his shaft. He rubbed his come into the smooth skin of his shaft with each stroke. His breath coming out in stuttered gasps.

“Damian,” you lifted yourself up onto your elbows to get a view. You couldn’t see his cock, but you knew what his was doing by the way his arm moved. The biceps rippling with each tug causing the black in on his arms to dance. “Please…” Desperation filled your voice. His finger left you only to be replaced once again by his tongue as he dove back in. His hand still worked his cock.

You fell back onto the bed as his tongue stopped teasing. The strokes became more intense flickering over your clit. Pleasure wound and built deep in your belly. Your hand clutched at his head pressing him deeper into your clit. You jerked your hips moving your pussy against his face. The room filled with a mixture of his muted moans against your folds, the soft fap of his hand stroking his cock, and your growing moans.

“Fuck Damian please… I need you in me. God I want your cock so deep inside me I can taste it…”

“Come on my tongue first. Let me taste you,” Damian squeezed the base of his cock. A groan fell from his lips as he warded off his impending orgasm. He forced himself to remove his hand and wrapped it around your thigh. Underneath and over your hip where his fingers parted your folds. Your swollen clit stood out like a beacon in the night. Like a sailor transfixed by the song of the siren, Damian’s tongue torpedoed in; assaulting your clit with precision strikes.

You writhed on the blankets. A fine sheen of sweat covering your body. Your left hand twisted into the blankets; your nails digging into the cotton. Your right still twisted in his black strands. Fisted so tightly you knew it had to hurt but you couldn’t bring yourself to loosen the hold and Damian didn’t complain. You bucked against his face and pleasure swirled and grew. Your body produced more slick covering his chin and beard; dripping down the curve of her cheeks. Your moans grew louder and more frenzied. Your well timed movements lost their rhythm.

Damian rode each jerk, each thrust. He held your hips tighter and continued his work. His cock was weeping. His come falling to the carpeted rug. He feared he might lose control of his own body. His eyes flickered up your body. The quivering stomach muscles as you fought for your own control; a useless attempt to keep your orgasm at bay. Your heaving chest as you desperately tried to keep oxygen inside your lungs but your gasping breaths weren’t filling enough.

You could hear his licks through your soaked folds. Could hear his own grunts and moans as he gained just as much pleasure from pleasuring you. You looked down at meet his eyes. Completely black pools and you bit your lip. Little whimpers broke through and his gaze trapped you. “Oh…” you moaned as the tension tightened. Damian’s efforts doubled and you came with a loud moan. Your body jerked in Damian’s hold as you sank back on the bed. Your body releasing a flood which Damian happily licked up.

Damian stood, a feeling of pride filling him. A virile masculinity puffing his chest as he watched your body twitching as you slowly fell back to earth. He wiped a hand down his beard coming away wet with your juices. He reached for the hem of his shirt to pull it off when your voice stopped him.

“Leave it on…” your body hummed post orgasm. Tiny little tremors working their way through leaving small twitches in their wake as your senses fought to come back online. You wanted to sink right into the mattress in euphoric bliss but you caught sight of Damian’s cock protruding from his jeans. Hard and leaking from the tip. The open fly of his jeans framing the magnificent cock. A wave of pleasure shot through you at the vulnerability you exuded. “Just like this.”

Damian hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you back to the edge of the bed. He stepped closer between the v of your thighs and reached for his cock. He teased your opening sliding through your sopping folds coating his cock. His tip nudged at your overly sensitive clit causing you to jerk. His hands held you in place.

You released a low moan when he finally pushed into you. There were no teasing strokes this time. He sank all the way in; his hips resting against yours.

Damian’s body shook as a tremor worked through. You were tight and warm around him. Clenching him so hard. His heads dropped back as he breathed through his nose, jaw clenched tight as he fought to not come immediately. He wanted to. He wanted to flood your channel with his come until it was dripping out of you.

“Please Damian… I need you…” You begged him as you rocked up against him. He filled you so wonderfully. Slotted against you like he was meant to be.

“I got you Princesa.”

And he did. Damian pulled you back to him, your ass cheeks against the denim of his thighs. He held your legs open as he pulled out and slammed back into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling. Clenching tighter around him. You fought with your body wanting to keep him locked inside and wanting to feel the pull of him sliding out of you only to push right back in.

Your legs were moved to rest on his shoulders. One arm wrapped around them to keep them in place. His other hand gripped your hip as he pulled you into him every time he impaled you on his cock. His hips started thrusting with fervor. Like a piston in a car engine, he slammed his cock into you at a quick pace. His thighs slapping against your ass. The sound muted because of his jeans.

Small whimpers and moans were coaxed from your body. Your toes curled and your hands once again fisted in the blankets. Your head tilted back as your eyes drifted closed allowing the feeling of pleasure to wash over you. Your breasts bounced with each snap of his hips. You braced your ankles on his shoulders and lifted your ass a little sending him deeper. You nearly howled when he hit the hidden spot inside you.

A fuse lit inside of you and you weren’t sure how long you had before the bomb exploded. You chanted Damian’s name and reached for him needed to feel him all over you. Feel his weight pressing you down on the bed. He leaned forward nearly rolling you in half. Your leg slipped from his shoulder and you wrapped it around his waist. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded. Your hand clutched at his shoulder gripping his t-shirt in a tight hold that had the fabric stretching across his chest.

“Never stopping,” Damian grunted as he kept up his torrid pace. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His heart pounded against his rib cage. His muscles strained with exertion. “Proving… you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you cried. Your hand drifted to the back of his head tangling in his hair again. “I’m yours Damian… always…”

“Fuck,” Damian’s hand hit the mattress next to her head. She was folded beneath him allowing him to go deeper. His shins hit the frame of the bed with every thrust but he couldn’t stop. The position caused her to cry out and he faltered.

“No no. Don’t… please…” You could barely move your hips in this position relying on Damian to bring you home. He hit that rough patch inside you and your body hummed. A continuous vibration. Your fingers tingled and you felt a muscle in your hip lock but you were too far gone. Damian’s efforts renewed with vigor. Both gasping for breath. Little grunts and groans mixing.

“I’m gonna come…” Damian‘s hips snapped to yours. He was at the edge of the cliff waiting to be thrust over. He slammed into you again and again. You pussy lips clenching like a vice. Your channel feeling like a Heaven he never wanted to leave.

“Keep going… fuck don’t stop,” you pleaded with him feeling pleasure building. Your heart hammered frantically in your chest. You clenched his cock trying to milk the come from his balls. You could feel it pulsing inside you. Lightning flooded your core. Tension coiled in your belly.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Damian chanted. A moan from fell from his lips – harsh and guttural. He slammed into you and his orgasm exploded. He came with a deep roar. His cock pulsed wildly inside of you as he shot ropes and ropes of thick white hot come all over your walls. Each clench of your pussy caused his body to jerk. He panted heavily. Tiny whines escaping on each exhale.

The feeling of Damian’s come painting your walls sent you careening into your own orgasm. Your wail mixed with his. Your body jerking as you tried to rock on his cock. Your pussy fluttered around him desperately trying to milk all the come from him; greedily pulling it into your body. You withered and arched beneath Damian. Your muscles tensing and locking as white hot pleasure burst through you. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes.

“Fuck,” Damian released a full body quiver as he let go of the hold on your legs. They fell to the bed; the muscles feeling like jelly. The new position caused her eyes to widen and she searched for purchase as her weight tried to pull her from the bed. You rested precariously on the edge. You moaned feeling Damian’s hips press into yours holding you in place. He slumped over resting his head against your heaving chest.

You managed to somehow get your muscles to work and you wrapped your arms around him, cradling him to your breast. His back expanding with his own heavy breathing and you hummed softly. Your muscles twitched as the tension slowly released. Your hands gently caressed Damian’s back. You untucked your arms from his so you could cup his face. From there you pulled his lips to yours. The kiss was soft. Lips moving together in a lazy manner. Your lips parted and your tongues met. Slow strokes stoking the embers of their lovemaking.

The kiss broke as slowly as it began. His forehead rested against yours. You blinked your eyes open staring into his. The earlier anger was gone. His brown eyes sparkling with a warm gentleness. You traced a finger down his cheek.

“Why third?”

Your brow furrowed in confusion at his words. The confusion must have shown because Damian explained without prompt.

“Why was I listed as third in your list?”

“Oh…” Laughter bubbled up. Soft chuckles releasing. She placed a kiss on the tip of his nose and then another on the right side of his mouth; right where that lip bent in a crooked manner when he spoke.

“It has the best probability of being selected.”

[froggtogs]

quick(ish) kristen cooldown! I get to go see the upcoming live show so the bad kids have been on my mind a lot lately :)

[deus-ex-mona]

the nghy sendoff scene is super cute!!

from hiyori’s confident smile and “just you wait! i’ll definitely report back with good news (about the track meet)!” and nagisa’s “yeah, i’m looking forward to it.”, showing his support and faith in her running abilities…

to their promise to keep in contact…

just… the contrast between nagisa’s slightly lonely look as he tells her “…keep in touch, ‘kay?” and hiyori’s bright smile as she agrees with a “yup! see ya!”…

and it seems like hiyori’s going to leave just like that, but t h e n

…she abruptly turns around to give nagisa an especially adorable angelic smile and wave and!!!!!!!!!

nghy are just so precious guys… they deserve all the happiness in the world…

live laugh love nghy!!!

[cas---2y5]

feeling every emotion rn and i might just explode

[lagunaseca2013]

🧃, 🕯️, and 🍓 if you feel like answering any or all of them!

hiiii echo <3 thanks for the ask!! truths/dares here!

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

oh my god. the answer to this is so embarrassing but also kind of classic, i think? i started out on wattpad around age ten or eleven maybe?? i was reading mostly one direction/5sos/O2L (please lmao) het oc fic or like actual self insert and i……..started having all these ideas, yanno? i also liked having a made up name and life (i vividly remember pretending to be 22 which is fuckjng wild bc hello. that’s how old i am RIGHT NOW) and making friends etc. my most successful wattpad fic was a luke hemmings x oc multchaptered fic w like….idk 15k reads?? idk if wattpad still works like that it’s been a loooong time. i’m pretty sure it’s still up tho lmaoo

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

i hate editing and i’m soooo bad at it lmao. like a 3 maybe?? i’m more of an edit as i go kind of person or like. well to tell u the truth my writing process is kind of insane and makes no sense like a lot of the time ideas come to me as literal fully formed sentences. idk if that makes sense but it’s my truth….editing usually is for like typos and if i switched tenses etc. i very rarely change content

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

i, like many others, dated the worst person possibly ever when i was 19, and made the mistake of integrating them fully into my friend group at the time. we had a messy break up and went no contact even tho i desperately wanted to stay friends. i kept sort of breaking no contact bc they kept POSTING ABOUT ME ON SOCIAL MEDIA. until it finally escalated when they tweeted something that was clearly about me and i thought it was HILARIOUS so i liked and retweeted! they immediately sent me a cease and desist paragraph which i responded to w my own list of grievances (including. i have to laugh. the fact that they had been MISGENDERING ME to everyone we knew). they apologized and then asked to meet up to talk it out. we sort of talked it out which means they told me about all the people they were hooking up w and i got my feelings hurt. then we both vaguely alluded to waiting for each other?? as in like, we would someday get back together (never do this) and went our separate ways. fast forward two years later, they had dated this girl for like a year and a half but had broken up w her a few months back. i hadn’t dated anyone but had hit an unfortunate slutty phase. i bumped into them at a coffee shop on valentine’s day. they asked me to talk. we went to the same spot we had had our previous conversation years before and they proceeded to tell me that they were still in love with me, they thought about me everyday since we broke up (again, they dated a girl for a year and half in the interim) and they wanted to get back together. with the clarity of mind that i did not have at 19, i did not in fact say yes. in a turn of events that was completely random and also kind of awesome, i ended up going to a party w his ex girlfriend that same night. here’s the punchline: we only dated for five months. lmao.

[roserefrain]

sighing so heavily like a dog that is sitting on the couch. might have to turn off anon for this blog ! if I do. sowwy

[daydreamerdrew]

The Hulk! (1978) #27

[gumy-shark]

the tsa is baffled by her licenseless swag

[xylo-phone]

32?

32. August by flipturn

We thought love was something

We weren't meant to find

But now you're a stranger

And I'm still July

But don't you remember

August, honey, you were mine

[taweretsdagger]

also want to add that you can wear masks when you’re NOT sick/symptomatic too! a lot of people don’t realize that communicable illnesses can be spread asymptomatically/pre-symptomatically, and that wearing a mask can prevent you from getting sick in the first place. (any mask will offer some level of prevention, but respirator masks like KN95 and N95s will work best since those fit your face more snugly.)

it’s a really good and community oriented hygiene practice to mask up as much as you can in public, especially in any spaces where you HAVE to be like public transit, grocery stores, and medical offices.

I know I'm preaching to the choir but like. You know you can wear masks for other sicknesses. Not just covid. If you have the flu or a cold or a stomach bug you can still wear a mask to help prevent the spread of it to others if you insist on going out! I just think it's the polite thing to do