roturo

[roturo]

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HAPPY TRAIL

ᝰ.ᐟ you’re trying to hide your thirst for shin asakura from someone who can read minds. spoiler: it’s does not end well. ゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆

ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━ warnings: smut, blowjob, lewd thoughts, semi-public, reader thirsting for shin’s happy trail, whimpering, rough blowjob, shin’s use of his esp (or physic ability), pwp, being heard, not beta read. minors and blank blogs dni. you will be blocked.

reblogs and comments are appreciated .ᐟ >⩊<

ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━ romy’s note: haiii, i’m back after flopping so bad with otaku hot girl pt2… sigh— this time i’m joining sakamoto days fandom since i’ve been thirsting over shin so bad ^^; anyways, enjoy! maybe ill write more for him

shin asakura is the kind of man who has a happy trail and doesn’t seem to understand what it does to you. he’s so casually unaware—like when he’s defending sakamoto and his shirt lifts just enough, or when he stretches to put the ramen away and it slips into view, low and soft, leading somewhere your mind really shouldn’t go.

you always look away before you get caught. at least, you think you do.

but tonight, tending to the wound on his chest, you have no choice but to be close. his shirt is gone, tossed aside. his pants hang low on his hips, dangerously low, and he’s watching you with that unreadable expression while you press a warm cloth against the bruised skin.

your eyes aren’t on the injury. not really. they’re fixed lower, drawn helplessly to the line of hair trailing down his abdomen like it’s guiding you somewhere you shouldn’t be staring.

how you wish you could use your mouth to press just below his belly button and keep going… lower, and lower— kissing every piece of him as you tug his pants down and finally… finally get a view, a taste, of his c—

“you know i can hear that, right?”

your hands freeze. your breath catches. you don’t dare look up.

he doesn’t move, doesn’t press. he just lets the silence sit between you, heavy and warm, like he’s giving you time to come back to yourself.

but now you know he knows. and somehow, that makes it worse. or maybe… better.

you were never that explicit with your thoughts.

you always kept them shut, tucked deep in a place his esp couldn’t reach. almost like naguro—quiet, distant, controlled.

but holy fuck.

with just a glimpse, just a slip of your real thoughts, he felt his cock twitch at the idea of you sucking him off.

let’s be honest. he knows you’re attractive. he’s not blind.

he might even have a small crush on you—maybe.

the kind he doesn’t talk about, the kind that lingers in the way his eyes stay on you a second too long, or how he always seems to know when you’re not okay, even before you do.

he watched you work your ass off. trying to be just as good as sakamoto, maybe better. sharper. colder. a real assassin.

until, well…

you decided it was better to keep your idol alive than become him.

and shin?

he never said anything.

just stood beside you. kept reading your thoughts like they were the only way to understand what you wouldn’t say out loud.

but tonight, it’s different.

because you slipped.

and now he knows.

but then shin speaks again, his voice low… breathy almost.

“unless you’d rather show me?”

your breath catches in your throat as the realization of what he just said hits you. shin doesn't move, doesn't react, but the silence between you grows heavy and charged with a new tension.

your eyes remain fixed on that tantalizing trail of hair disappearing into his low-slung pants, your mind reeling with the forbidden images it's conjuring. you know you should look away, should try to regain some semblance of control, but you can't seem to tear your gaze away from the promise of what lies beneath.

your heart races, your pulse pounding in your ears as you weigh your options.

slowly, almost hesitantly, you let the cloth slip from your fingers, your hand trailing down his chest, over his stomach, until your fingertips brush against the waistband of his pants. shin inhales sharply, his abs tightening beneath your touch, but he doesn't stop you. he just watches, his gaze intense and unwavering, as your hand dips lower, your fingers toying with the button of his pants.

emboldened by his lack of resistance, you hook your fingers into his waistband and tug, slowly, teasingly, until the button pops open and the zipper lowers with a soft hiss. shin's pants slip lower, revealing more of that tantalizing trail of hair, disappearing into the shadowed V of his open fly.

unable to resist any longer, you lean in, your lips brushing against his skin, your tongue darting out to taste him. shin inhales sharply, a soft groan escaping his lips as your mouth explores the flesh you've been craving. making his underwear go wet at the kissing through the fabric, you could smell it— the arousal.

how much he wants this as you do.

your thoughts wouldn’t stop now, not even trying to hide them anymore, it was killing him. he couldn’t take it anymore or he would bust in his boxers, and that would been kinda embarrassing to presence as your first moment like this together.

without warning he pulled your hair with one hand, making you squeak as he took off his underwear with the other, and just like that introduced his hard cock on your mouth.

feeling relief as he felt the warm enveloping him as he thrusted mercilessly, completely becoming a new person as he thrusted into you.

you started to tear up, not knowing if it was from happiness or because of how good a dick could feel in your mouth.

you heard him groan, a beautiful sound coming out from him, a sound you produced him, his thrusts because sloppier as his groans turned into moans… and then into whimpers at the feeling of his high reaching his limit.

“oh, yesyesyes, please, keep sucking”

he could hear all the nasty thoughts of your mind racing, how you felt cockdumb, how you were only in the store’s warehouse and lu and sakamoto were most likely hearing…

but he couldn’t care anymore, not when you’re making him feel this good.

with one specific thrust he come undone, his cum filling your mouth, it was too much that when he pulled out cum also painted your face, it was nasty but he couldn’t understand how you looked so beautiful like that.

he was catching his breath as he looked at you and his cock twitched as he stared how happily you were cleaning yourself up by just licking off the rests of him in your face.

he caressed your face, looking at you lovingly…

“i usually don’t do things like this… but before we continue, if you want… would you like to go on a date with me?”

you nodded as you leaned your face on his palm, before freezing up as you both heard two knocks coming from out the room.

“uh… sakamoto is asking if you guys could help us close up?….”

shin’s face turned red at the embarrassed lu asking for the both of you, trying to compose as quickly as possible.

[roturo]

HAPPY TRAIL

ᝰ.ᐟ you’re trying to hide your thirst for shin asakura from someone who can read minds. spoiler: it’s does not end well. ゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆

ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━ warnings: smut, blowjob, lewd thoughts, semi-public, reader thirsting for shin’s happy trail, whimpering, rough blowjob, shin’s use of his esp (or physic ability), pwp, being heard, not beta read. minors and blank blogs dni. you will be blocked.

reblogs and comments are appreciated .ᐟ >⩊<

ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━ romy’s note: haiii, i’m back after flopping so bad with otaku hot girl pt2… sigh— this time i’m joining sakamoto days fandom since i’ve been thirsting over shin so bad ^^; anyways, enjoy! maybe ill write more for him

shin asakura is the kind of man who has a happy trail and doesn’t seem to understand what it does to you. he’s so casually unaware—like when he’s defending sakamoto and his shirt lifts just enough, or when he stretches to put the ramen away and it slips into view, low and soft, leading somewhere your mind really shouldn’t go.

you always look away before you get caught. at least, you think you do.

but tonight, tending to the wound on his chest, you have no choice but to be close. his shirt is gone, tossed aside. his pants hang low on his hips, dangerously low, and he’s watching you with that unreadable expression while you press a warm cloth against the bruised skin.

your eyes aren’t on the injury. not really. they’re fixed lower, drawn helplessly to the line of hair trailing down his abdomen like it’s guiding you somewhere you shouldn’t be staring.

how you wish you could use your mouth to press just below his belly button and keep going… lower, and lower— kissing every piece of him as you tug his pants down and finally… finally get a view, a taste, of his c—

“you know i can hear that, right?”

your hands freeze. your breath catches. you don’t dare look up.

he doesn’t move, doesn’t press. he just lets the silence sit between you, heavy and warm, like he’s giving you time to come back to yourself.

but now you know he knows. and somehow, that makes it worse. or maybe… better.

you were never that explicit with your thoughts.

you always kept them shut, tucked deep in a place his esp couldn’t reach. almost like naguro—quiet, distant, controlled.

but holy fuck.

with just a glimpse, just a slip of your real thoughts, he felt his cock twitch at the idea of you sucking him off.

let’s be honest. he knows you’re attractive. he’s not blind.

he might even have a small crush on you—maybe.

the kind he doesn’t talk about, the kind that lingers in the way his eyes stay on you a second too long, or how he always seems to know when you’re not okay, even before you do.

he watched you work your ass off. trying to be just as good as sakamoto, maybe better. sharper. colder. a real assassin.

until, well…

you decided it was better to keep your idol alive than become him.

and shin?

he never said anything.

just stood beside you. kept reading your thoughts like they were the only way to understand what you wouldn’t say out loud.

but tonight, it’s different.

because you slipped.

and now he knows.

but then shin speaks again, his voice low… breathy almost.

“unless you’d rather show me?”

your breath catches in your throat as the realization of what he just said hits you. shin doesn't move, doesn't react, but the silence between you grows heavy and charged with a new tension.

your eyes remain fixed on that tantalizing trail of hair disappearing into his low-slung pants, your mind reeling with the forbidden images it's conjuring. you know you should look away, should try to regain some semblance of control, but you can't seem to tear your gaze away from the promise of what lies beneath.

your heart races, your pulse pounding in your ears as you weigh your options.

slowly, almost hesitantly, you let the cloth slip from your fingers, your hand trailing down his chest, over his stomach, until your fingertips brush against the waistband of his pants. shin inhales sharply, his abs tightening beneath your touch, but he doesn't stop you. he just watches, his gaze intense and unwavering, as your hand dips lower, your fingers toying with the button of his pants.

emboldened by his lack of resistance, you hook your fingers into his waistband and tug, slowly, teasingly, until the button pops open and the zipper lowers with a soft hiss. shin's pants slip lower, revealing more of that tantalizing trail of hair, disappearing into the shadowed V of his open fly.

unable to resist any longer, you lean in, your lips brushing against his skin, your tongue darting out to taste him. shin inhales sharply, a soft groan escaping his lips as your mouth explores the flesh you've been craving. making his underwear go wet at the kissing through the fabric, you could smell it— the arousal.

how much he wants this as you do.

your thoughts wouldn’t stop now, not even trying to hide them anymore, it was killing him. he couldn’t take it anymore or he would bust in his boxers, and that would been kinda embarrassing to presence as your first moment like this together.

without warning he pulled your hair with one hand, making you squeak as he took off his underwear with the other, and just like that introduced his hard cock on your mouth.

feeling relief as he felt the warm enveloping him as he thrusted mercilessly, completely becoming a new person as he thrusted into you.

you started to tear up, not knowing if it was from happiness or because of how good a dick could feel in your mouth.

you heard him groan, a beautiful sound coming out from him, a sound you produced him, his thrusts because sloppier as his groans turned into moans… and then into whimpers at the feeling of his high reaching his limit.

“oh, yesyesyes, please, keep sucking”

he could hear all the nasty thoughts of your mind racing, how you felt cockdumb, how you were only in the store’s warehouse and lu and sakamoto were most likely hearing…

but he couldn’t care anymore, not when you’re making him feel this good.

with one specific thrust he come undone, his cum filling your mouth, it was too much that when he pulled out cum also painted your face, it was nasty but he couldn’t understand how you looked so beautiful like that.

he was catching his breath as he looked at you and his cock twitched as he stared how happily you were cleaning yourself up by just licking off the rests of him in your face.

he caressed your face, looking at you lovingly…

“i usually don’t do things like this… but before we continue, if you want… would you like to go on a date with me?”

you nodded as you leaned your face on his palm, before freezing up as you both heard two knocks coming from out the room.

“uh… sakamoto is asking if you guys could help us close up?….”

shin’s face turned red at the embarrassed lu asking for the both of you, trying to compose as quickly as possible.

[roturo]

`· . ౨ৎ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! pt2

౨ৎ summary: part two: the incident. Remember how you gave Yuji what he wanted? Yeah?, well he wants more.

part one

(“I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.” Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?”)

WARNINGS: smut, aged up characters, rough sex, degradation, creampie, angry sex (kinda), whimpering, sub/dom behaviors, use of nicknames, mentions of male masturbation, dumbification.

౨ৎ a/n: summer break! i expect to be more active, should i post for squid game too? reblogs and comments are appreciated !

Ever since the incident, Yuji's been... off.

Not sad, not drained or anything like that… just—irritated? On edge? Whatever it is, it’s not like him.

That thing from a few days ago really messed with his head. He’s always been the one in control, you know? He’s not some clueless kid, always considering himself as the dominant —definitely not a virgin. At least… he didn’t think he acted like one with you. He’s had his fair share of fun, nothing serious, and he never really cared for one-night stands.

But after what happened with you in that restroom? Yeah. He’s sure now—he’s not built for “just once.”

It’s been stuck in his head ever since. Flooding his brain. He can’t concentrate, can’t focus.

 And it’s driving him crazy.

You two have been texting ever since the incident, taking things slow, knowing the other, but he swears before every date with you he has to jerk off or he will have a boner in front of you the whole day. And it’s not good. You will edge him even more.

You two have been texting ever since the incident. Slow, steady. Getting to know each other, pretending it’s all casual. But Yuji’s struggling…

Bad.

He swears, every single time before seeing you, he has to jerk off. No choice. If he doesn’t, he’ll be sitting across from you with a damn boner the whole time—just from watching you talk, the way your lips move, that laugh that somehow hits him deeper than it should. It’s like every little thing you do sets something off inside him, a spark he can’t put out no matter how hard he tries.

And even when he does take care of it beforehand, it’s never quite enough. You still manage to edge him without even trying. The way you lean in just a little too close, the brush of your hand that lingers longer than it should, the way your eyes catch his and hold them like a challenge. The way you say his name, low and soft, like you know exactly what you’re doing.

He became angry. But not in a way where he’s angry because they hurt someone he loves, he’s actually pent up.

Embarrassing.

He had to do something about it. He needed to get control back, or else he’d lose his mind. There was no other way. So yeah… he found himself standing outside your apartment, fist halfway raised to knock, heart pounding like crazy.

When the door finally opened—there was Yuji. Breathless, like he’d just run a marathon or fought some kind of battle. His eyes were wide, pupils blown way too big, like his brain was firing off too many signals at once. His face looked mostly numb, like he was trying to keep it together, but if you looked close enough, you’d see that tiny flicker—

That little spark of something else.

Desire? Maybe.

Something like that.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, Yuji kissed you with a desperate, almost feral intensity. His lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, as if he wanted to devour you whole. One hand fisted in your hair, gripping it tightly, while the other arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body flush against his.Making youhiss at the sudden change of force.

What happened to the cute guy you were talking with minutes before through the phone? The easy one to fluster, the nervous one?

His heart hammered against your chest, pounding like a drumbeat urging you to surrender. His tongue plunged into your mouth, stroking along yours, tasting every inch of you with a greed that stole your breath. He tasted of desperation and barely restrained lust, a heady combination that made your head spin. And great heavens… You sure liked this new side of Yuji.

As he kissed you, Yuji walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. He pinned you there with his hips, grinding the prominent bulge in his jeans against your core. The thick ridge of his erection throbbed against you, hot and insistent, as if demanding entrance to your body.

Breaking the kiss, Yuji trailed his mouth down the column of your throat, his teeth scraping and nipping at the sensitive skin. He sucked hard on your pulse point, no doubt leaving a mark, branding you as his. His hands roamed your body greedily, squeezing the globes of your ass, pulling your hips more firmly against his straining cock.

"Fuck, I need you," Yuji growled against your neck, his voice rough and ragged with desire. "I can't... I can't control myself around you anymore. It’s your fault You drive me crazy." You never heard him talk like this before, he doesn’t swear much, but hearing his breathy voice tell his lewd thoughts about you made you feel something new.

He rocked his hips forward harshly, the friction sending jolts of pleasure shooting through you. The rough treatment only stoked the heat building between your thighs. You could feel your panties growing damp, your body preparing itself for his claim.

"Tell me you want this too," Yuji demanded, his eyes dark and intense as he stared down at you. There was a challenge in his gaze, a silent command for you to submit to him, to give yourself over to the passion burning between you. "Tell me you need my cock as much as I need your tight little cunt."

Fuck, his dirty talking really got you pent up before he fucked you. You were doomed.

“Y-you're so rough..." you let out a shaky laugh, your cheeks flushed and chest heaving. Yuji's intensity caught you off guard, but you couldn't deny the way your body responded eagerly to his dominant touch.

"I... I do want it," you admitted breathlessly– this was embarrassing, all this time he was the one to be in this position– your voice barely above a whisper. Your face burned with embarrassment, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "I want you, Yuji. I want to feel you inside me.."

Emboldened by your confession, Yuji crashed his lips against yours once more, kissing you with renewed fervor. He licked into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers of pleasure as he ground his thick bulge insistently against your clothed sex. Your hands fisted in his hair, tugging urgently as you arched your back, craving more of his touch.

Suddenly, Yuji's hands slid under your skirt, gripping your bare ass and hoisting you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom, his intentions clear. He tossed you onto the mattress, crawling over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Gonna fuck you so hard," Yuji promised darkly, his voice dripping with lust. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum until it's dripping out of you."

Something was different with Yuji, he never acted this way, he was a whole new person.

Emboldened by your confession, Yuji crashed his lips against yours once more, kissing you with renewed fervor. He licked into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers of pleasure as he ground his thick bulge insistently against your clothed sex. Your hands fisted in his hair, tugging urgently as you arched your back, craving more of his touch.

Suddenly, Yuji's hands slid under your skirt, gripping your bare ass and hoisting you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom, his intentions clear. He tossed you onto the mattress, crawling over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Gonna fuck you so hard," Yuji promised darkly, his voice dripping with lust. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum until it's dripping out of you. Alright princess?”

He ripped your panties off, baring your glistening folds to his hungry gaze. Then, unable to wait any longer, Yuji thrust two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out roughly. The obscene sound of your wetness filled the room as he fingered you hard and fast, his thumb circling your sensitive clit.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Yuji groaned, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Such a needy little slut for my cock."

He undid his jeans with one hand, freeing his straining erection. It slapped against his stomach, thick and hard, the swollen head already leaking precum. Yuji gripped himself, stroking his length as he fingered your soaked pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers played with your clit, while he inserted his cock on your tight hole for his size– making you go dumb at the feeling, his cock was going in and out of each thing. plap! plap! plap! was all the dirty noise that came out from your room with the lewd vocabulary of Yuji, he really was pent up.

You came on his cock as he groaned at the feeling of you squeezing him, fluids coming out of your hole. He was close too, his groans and moans turning into whimpers and hisses. He was feeling like that time. 

He let out spurts after spurts of his cum inside of you, not thinking of pulling out after the emotion consumed him. You swore you could feel it in your belly, how a small bump formed. Or maybe you were too cock drunk.

He was back like the Yuji you met before, watching with curiosity and admiration how your body ejects the liquids of you two. He went for a warm cloth to clean you, giving you small pecks on the parts he left bruises. Giving you a glass of water and changing your clothes.

Before you could say anything about the recent events, it felt like a dream. A Yuji that is only supposed to exist in your fantasies.  “In my defense, it was payback for the incident.”

[roturo]

`· . ౨ৎ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! pt2

౨ৎ summary: part two: the incident. Remember how you gave Yuji what he wanted? Yeah?, well he wants more.

part one

(“I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.” Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?”)

WARNINGS: smut, aged up characters, rough sex, degradation, creampie, angry sex (kinda), whimpering, sub/dom behaviors, use of nicknames, mentions of male masturbation, dumbification.

౨ৎ a/n: summer break! i expect to be more active, should i post for squid game too? reblogs and comments are appreciated !

Ever since the incident, Yuji's been... off.

Not sad, not drained or anything like that… just—irritated? On edge? Whatever it is, it’s not like him.

That thing from a few days ago really messed with his head. He’s always been the one in control, you know? He’s not some clueless kid, always considering himself as the dominant —definitely not a virgin. At least… he didn’t think he acted like one with you. He’s had his fair share of fun, nothing serious, and he never really cared for one-night stands.

But after what happened with you in that restroom? Yeah. He’s sure now—he’s not built for “just once.”

It’s been stuck in his head ever since. Flooding his brain. He can’t concentrate, can’t focus.

 And it’s driving him crazy.

You two have been texting ever since the incident, taking things slow, knowing the other, but he swears before every date with you he has to jerk off or he will have a boner in front of you the whole day. And it’s not good. You will edge him even more.

You two have been texting ever since the incident. Slow, steady. Getting to know each other, pretending it’s all casual. But Yuji’s struggling…

Bad.

He swears, every single time before seeing you, he has to jerk off. No choice. If he doesn’t, he’ll be sitting across from you with a damn boner the whole time—just from watching you talk, the way your lips move, that laugh that somehow hits him deeper than it should. It’s like every little thing you do sets something off inside him, a spark he can’t put out no matter how hard he tries.

And even when he does take care of it beforehand, it’s never quite enough. You still manage to edge him without even trying. The way you lean in just a little too close, the brush of your hand that lingers longer than it should, the way your eyes catch his and hold them like a challenge. The way you say his name, low and soft, like you know exactly what you’re doing.

He became angry. But not in a way where he’s angry because they hurt someone he loves, he’s actually pent up.

Embarrassing.

He had to do something about it. He needed to get control back, or else he’d lose his mind. There was no other way. So yeah… he found himself standing outside your apartment, fist halfway raised to knock, heart pounding like crazy.

When the door finally opened—there was Yuji. Breathless, like he’d just run a marathon or fought some kind of battle. His eyes were wide, pupils blown way too big, like his brain was firing off too many signals at once. His face looked mostly numb, like he was trying to keep it together, but if you looked close enough, you’d see that tiny flicker—

That little spark of something else.

Desire? Maybe.

Something like that.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, Yuji kissed you with a desperate, almost feral intensity. His lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, as if he wanted to devour you whole. One hand fisted in your hair, gripping it tightly, while the other arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body flush against his.Making youhiss at the sudden change of force.

What happened to the cute guy you were talking with minutes before through the phone? The easy one to fluster, the nervous one?

His heart hammered against your chest, pounding like a drumbeat urging you to surrender. His tongue plunged into your mouth, stroking along yours, tasting every inch of you with a greed that stole your breath. He tasted of desperation and barely restrained lust, a heady combination that made your head spin. And great heavens… You sure liked this new side of Yuji.

As he kissed you, Yuji walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. He pinned you there with his hips, grinding the prominent bulge in his jeans against your core. The thick ridge of his erection throbbed against you, hot and insistent, as if demanding entrance to your body.

Breaking the kiss, Yuji trailed his mouth down the column of your throat, his teeth scraping and nipping at the sensitive skin. He sucked hard on your pulse point, no doubt leaving a mark, branding you as his. His hands roamed your body greedily, squeezing the globes of your ass, pulling your hips more firmly against his straining cock.

"Fuck, I need you," Yuji growled against your neck, his voice rough and ragged with desire. "I can't... I can't control myself around you anymore. It’s your fault You drive me crazy." You never heard him talk like this before, he doesn’t swear much, but hearing his breathy voice tell his lewd thoughts about you made you feel something new.

He rocked his hips forward harshly, the friction sending jolts of pleasure shooting through you. The rough treatment only stoked the heat building between your thighs. You could feel your panties growing damp, your body preparing itself for his claim.

"Tell me you want this too," Yuji demanded, his eyes dark and intense as he stared down at you. There was a challenge in his gaze, a silent command for you to submit to him, to give yourself over to the passion burning between you. "Tell me you need my cock as much as I need your tight little cunt."

Fuck, his dirty talking really got you pent up before he fucked you. You were doomed.

“Y-you're so rough..." you let out a shaky laugh, your cheeks flushed and chest heaving. Yuji's intensity caught you off guard, but you couldn't deny the way your body responded eagerly to his dominant touch.

"I... I do want it," you admitted breathlessly– this was embarrassing, all this time he was the one to be in this position– your voice barely above a whisper. Your face burned with embarrassment, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "I want you, Yuji. I want to feel you inside me.."

Emboldened by your confession, Yuji crashed his lips against yours once more, kissing you with renewed fervor. He licked into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers of pleasure as he ground his thick bulge insistently against your clothed sex. Your hands fisted in his hair, tugging urgently as you arched your back, craving more of his touch.

Suddenly, Yuji's hands slid under your skirt, gripping your bare ass and hoisting you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom, his intentions clear. He tossed you onto the mattress, crawling over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Gonna fuck you so hard," Yuji promised darkly, his voice dripping with lust. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum until it's dripping out of you."

Something was different with Yuji, he never acted this way, he was a whole new person.

Emboldened by your confession, Yuji crashed his lips against yours once more, kissing you with renewed fervor. He licked into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers of pleasure as he ground his thick bulge insistently against your clothed sex. Your hands fisted in his hair, tugging urgently as you arched your back, craving more of his touch.

Suddenly, Yuji's hands slid under your skirt, gripping your bare ass and hoisting you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom, his intentions clear. He tossed you onto the mattress, crawling over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Gonna fuck you so hard," Yuji promised darkly, his voice dripping with lust. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum until it's dripping out of you. Alright princess?”

He ripped your panties off, baring your glistening folds to his hungry gaze. Then, unable to wait any longer, Yuji thrust two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out roughly. The obscene sound of your wetness filled the room as he fingered you hard and fast, his thumb circling your sensitive clit.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Yuji groaned, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Such a needy little slut for my cock."

He undid his jeans with one hand, freeing his straining erection. It slapped against his stomach, thick and hard, the swollen head already leaking precum. Yuji gripped himself, stroking his length as he fingered your soaked pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers played with your clit, while he inserted his cock on your tight hole for his size– making you go dumb at the feeling, his cock was going in and out of each thing. plap! plap! plap! was all the dirty noise that came out from your room with the lewd vocabulary of Yuji, he really was pent up.

You came on his cock as he groaned at the feeling of you squeezing him, fluids coming out of your hole. He was close too, his groans and moans turning into whimpers and hisses. He was feeling like that time. 

He let out spurts after spurts of his cum inside of you, not thinking of pulling out after the emotion consumed him. You swore you could feel it in your belly, how a small bump formed. Or maybe you were too cock drunk.

He was back like the Yuji you met before, watching with curiosity and admiration how your body ejects the liquids of you two. He went for a warm cloth to clean you, giving you small pecks on the parts he left bruises. Giving you a glass of water and changing your clothes.

Before you could say anything about the recent events, it felt like a dream. A Yuji that is only supposed to exist in your fantasies.  “In my defense, it was payback for the incident.”

[roturo]

should i make pt2 of otaku hot girl? or another gojo story?

[roturo]

❝ MOVE, IT'S A FALSE GOD ❞

A rising drug dealer returns to Zaun, igniting a "dangerous" power struggle. Tension turns into passion, old routes blur, who will control the game?

⤹ warnings: power dynamics, older man/younger woman, age gap, dom/sub dynamics, angst, begging, pwp, sexual tension, afab!reader praising, pet names, fingering.

⤹ songs used: move - taemin, false god - taylor swift, black swan - bts, danger - txt, automatic - red velvet.

The air in Silco’s private office was thick with smoke, curling around the dim amber light that spilled from a single lamp. You leaned against the chair, the same old chair you used to sit to just watch the man infront of you start creating what would be the ruin of Zean, his blue eye lifting from the long forgotten documents he was supposedly reading before your entrance— arms crossed, your confidence unwavering despite the sharp gaze he leveled at you— or at least, that’s what you try to pretend.

“It’s been a while,” you said pretending nonchalantly, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “I almost thought you’d forgotten about me, Silco. But here we are.”

He didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a slow drag from his cigar, letting the silence stretch. It was the same with him as always—every move, every glance, carefully calculated to put others on edge. Once, it had worked on you.

Not anymore.

“I don’t forget,” Silco said finally, his voice low and deliberate. “Especially not those who think they can play in my waters without permission.”

You chuckled, a sound that carried a hint of mockery. “Is that what this is about? Permission? I didn’t think you’d care, considering how… insignificant I used to be.”

His eye twitched, just barely, and you knew you’d struck a nerve. It was subtle, but years of knowing him had taught you how to read those tiny cracks in his armor.

“You were a child then,” he said, his tone clipped. “A reckless, naïve—”

“And now?” you interrupted, stepping closer, your confidence cutting through the haze of smoke. “Still think I’m a child, Silco? Because from where I’m standing, I seem to be doing just fine without your approval. Even starting to strike your own success.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. His good eye studied you, cold and unblinking, but there was something else there too—something that betrayed his calm exterior.

“You’ve built quite the reputation,” he said at last, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “Impressive, even. But reputations don’t protect you when you’re making enemies on all sides. Especially not mine.”

You smiled, slow and sharp. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you.”

He laughed, his breathless old laugh bringing the same warm (and rare) feeling to your chest. He looked at you in a way you couldn’t describe, he was always the one you looked up for, not Vander, not Vi, him. Even when everything went to shit.

“You think i’m feeling threatened by your presence here when you’re the one who always kept following around when you were just a clueless teenager trying to survive here?”

He smirked to himself, if you didn’t know him all this years you wouldn’t be able to see it, he took another long drag of his cigarette, making sure to look at you with a tentative face, like he’s testing the waters.

Silco’s smirk lingered as his gaze roamed over you, deliberate and slow. It wasn’t the predatory kind that most in the Undercity wielded like a weapon—no, this was something subtler, more dangerous. He let the silence between you stretch again, his presence pulling the air tight, as if daring you to speak first.

You didn’t.

He leaned back in his chair, the sharp edge of his posture softening just enough to make him seem almost at ease. The movement was calculated, you knew—it always was with him—but the faint trail of smoke curling lazily from his cigar only added to the intimacy of the space.

“You’ve certainly grown,” he said, his tone low and silken, as though the words were more for himself than for you.

It wasn’t a compliment. At least, not entirely. But the way his eye flicked down to where your fingers rested on the edge of his desk, nails tapping a faint rhythm, made you feel as though he was cataloging every inch of you.

“Out of your shadow, I’d say,” you replied smoothly, letting your lips curve into a faint smirk of your own. “Which I imagine doesn’t sit well with you, does it?”

He exhaled another cloud of smoke, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Is that what you think this is? Some petty tantrum over losing control?”

“Isn’t it?” you countered, stepping closer. The glow of the lamp cast a golden hue across your skin as you closed the space between you, slow and deliberate.

You saw his eye darken slightly, his gaze following your movement with the precision of a predator assessing its prey. But he didn’t move away. If anything, the tension between you only seemed to tighten as you came to a stop just shy of touching him.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re playing a game you’re not prepared to lose.”

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I intend to lose. Maybe I know exactly what I’m doing.”

The sound he made—a low, amused hum—sent a shiver down your spine. He was close enough now that you could smell the faint metallic edge of smoke and shimmer clinging to his suit.

“Do you, though?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk, the movement drawing you in until there was barely a breath of space between you.

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to look away. His good eye searched yours, his smirk softening into something more dangerous. Not threatening, but something far worse: intrigued.

“You’ve always had fire,” he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you. “But ambition without restraint… That’s a dangerous thing in this world.”

“And yet, here I am,” you shot back, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the weight of his words.

His gaze dipped briefly—to your lips, before sliding back up to meet your eyes. It was fleeting, but unmistakable.

“You’re bold,” he admitted, his voice dropping further, the gravel in it brushing against your nerves. “But boldness doesn’t mean you can stand the heat when you step into the fire.”

“Maybe,” you said, leaning forward until you were close enough to feel the faint warmth of his breath on your skin, “I just enjoy the burn.”

For the briefest moment, you saw something flicker in his gaze—something he quickly buried behind a sharp inhale and another pull from his cigar. But the tension lingered, coiling tight between you like a rope about to snap.

His eye sharpened as your words hung in the air. That flicker of intrigue you’d seen moments ago twisted into something darker, something colder—and yet impossibly more magnetic.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” he said, his voice soft but cutting. “That your rise makes you untouchable. But even kings can fall.”

Your lips parted in a quiet scoff. “Kings fall when they stop watching the board. And as far as I can see, you’re the one sitting comfortably on your throne while the ground beneath you starts to crack.”

His laugh was low, more exhalation than sound, as he leaned back in his chair. “A clever metaphor,” he murmured, his tone almost amused, silently nodding to your point. Who would’ve known you would turn this way, follow his path—and even his words? The realization sparked a strange feeling deep in his stomach, a warm, fuzzy sensation creeping up his neck.

“But let me remind you,” he continued, his voice still smooth, “who built that board you’re so eager to play on.”

“And let me remind you,” you shot back, stepping even closer, “that no one stays untouchable forever—not even you.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of tension between you, the air too thick with smoke and unsaid words. And then he moved.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, not with Silco. He didn’t need one. Instead, he stood, the slow scrape of his chair against the floor sending a chill down your spine. By the time he was upright, he had erased the distance you’d carefully maintained, stepping into your space with a precision that left no room for retreat.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. The closeness made it feel like a growl. “You might end up liking the view from your knees.”

You felt your breath hitch before you could stop it. The words struck something deep and primal, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of faltering—even though those words stirred something inside you, a desire, a want… a need.

“And you might find,” you said, voice steady despite the way your heart pounded, “that even from my knees, I can be the one in control.”

Something in his expression shifted—just barely, but you caught it. That sharp, calculating mask cracked for a fraction of a second, and you saw the flicker of frustration—or was it fascination?—beneath it.

He reached for the desk behind you, his hand brushing the edge as he leaned in, caging you against it without ever truly touching you. The faint smell of smoke and ash filled your senses, grounding you even as the tension spiraled. All you could smell was his expensive perfume mixed with the burn of his daily cigarettes—his scent, only his.

Maybe your group was waiting for you, wondering what the hell you were doing with Silco, maybe even planning what to do if he killed you. But the situation you were in now was far better than anything else you’d ever experienced. This was the dirty, dangerous dream of a naïve teenager—the dream you’d always had since the first time you met him. You couldn’t risk losing it now.

“You don’t understand what you’re toying with,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a rasp.

“Don’t I?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You’re the one who called me here, Silco. So tell me—what exactly are you afraid of?”

The silence that followed was deafening. His eye bore into yours, searching, testing, as though trying to unravel the web you’d spun between the two of you.

And then he smiled. Not the sharp, mocking grin you’d expected, but something slower, quieter—dangerous in its restraint.

“Fear isn’t the word I’d use,” he said, his voice like silk. “But perhaps… curiosity.”

Silco's gaze never wavered from yours as he took a slow, deliberate step forward. There was no more room between you—no space for retreat, no escape from the storm building in the air around you. His scent, his presence, overwhelmed you, filling your lungs and sinking into your skin.

His hand reached up, but this time it wasn't to push you away— it was to lift your chin, gently, but with undeniable force. His touch was cold, his fingers rough against the delicate curve of your jaw, and yet the heat radiating off him burned you alive. You could barely breathe beneath the intensity of his stare.

“I'm curious,” he murmured, voice low and dark, like the very shadows that filled the room. His thumb brushed along your lower lip, soft yet commanding, testing, teasing.

“Do you know what you're asking for?”

Your heart was pounding, but you refused to show weakness. You forced your gaze to stay locked on his, your breath shallow as you leaned into his touch, letting the burn of his fingers draw you closer. You could feel the weight of his presence, the power he exuded, the way it seeped into your very bones.

“I think,” you breathed, voice trembling just slightly, “I'm asking you to show me.”

The words had barely left your lips when his face closed the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours in a shared, heated exhale. His lips hovered above yours, close enough to taste, but he didn't kiss you —no. Instead, he let the anticipation hang, let it build, until you were certain you couldn't take it anymore. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you could think about was the want-the desperate, aching need that had been simmering between you for so long.

“Show you?” he repeated, his voice thick, almost a growl. “You're bold to ask for that.”

Without warning, he pulled you closer, his hand gripping the back of your neck with a quiet authority that made your pulse spike.

His lips finally brushed against yours, a fleeting kiss, as light and delicate as the whisper of a shadow. But that brief touch was enough to send a jolt of heat through your entire body, making your knees threaten to buckle.

Before you could recover, he deepened the kiss-fierce, hungry, as if he'd been waiting for this moment as much as you. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat between you was suffocating, your bodies tangled as the kiss grew more desperate, more urgent. You could feel his heart pounding in sync with yours, the strength in his body pressed against yours, both of you craving something neither could name.

The kiss was a collision of fire and ice, a dangerous dance of control and surrender.

His lips were demanding, possessive, but you matched him, not allowing him to dominate entirely. Every time he pulled back, you followed, chasing him like a moth to a flame.

He pulled away suddenly, leaving you breathless, eyes dark with a mixture of lust and something more complicated-something deeper.

“I've always liked fire,” he rasped, voice rougher now, as though the kiss had burned him just as much as it had you. “But fire... it burns. And you're playing with it.”

You weren't sure if it was the heat of the moment, the way his hands had claimed you, or the raw hunger in his voice-but something inside you snapped.

“I'd say l'm more like an ice burn,” you murmured, your voice dripping with defiance.

Before he could respond, you surged forward, taking control, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was anything but delicate. 

The hunger between you was instantaneous, primal, as your hands gripped him with a new sense of authority. Silco had always been the one in charge, but now the roles had reversed, and you were the one pulling him closer, pushing him back against the desk with an intensity that left him breathless.

His shock didn't last long. Silco's hands moved, as though to regain control, but you were quicker. You pulled him firmly against you, forcing him to the edge of the desk, caging him there with your body. Your kiss was hungry, urgent, as though you were trying to consume him, and it felt like you were doing just that-biting, tugging, exploring him in ways that left no room for hesitation.

Silco's breath hitched, but this time it wasn't from power-it was from you. You were the one dominating the kiss now, your hands roaming across his chest, your body pressing him down with a quiet strength. He groaned against your lips, caught off guard by your sudden shift, and yet there was no resistance in him now. Only the heat of his body, the fire in his gaze.

His hands found your hips, but you didn't let him move you. You weren't done. Not yet.

“You think you control everything,” you said between kisses, your voice low and teasing.

“But even you can't resist me now.”

His hands tightened on your waist, but he didn't pull you away. Instead, he seemed to surrender to it, to you. His kiss deepened, now one of want-raw and desperate, matching your own intensity as you continued to trap him against the desk.

“Then show me,” he growled against your lips, hands gripping your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. “Prove it.” Silco's growl sent a shiver down your spine, his hands tightening on your waist with just enough pressure to remind you exactly who was in charge here. You may have thought you could control the moment, but Silco wasn't one to be caged-or tamed.

The smirk tugging at your lips faltered as his hands moved, sliding up your back and pulling you flush against him. His strength was effortless, his grip commanding, and the air between you seemed to crackle as he tilted his head, his lips grazing yours in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your entire body.

“Mercy?” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft, though his grip on you was anything but. “You seem to be under the impression that I allow mercy.”

The air between you crackled with tension, charged with an electricity that prickled your skin as Silco's hands tightened on your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power in his grip, and it only fueled the fire burning within you.

"I don't want mercy," you breathed, your voice low and husky, your lips hovering just a hair's breadth from his.

His good eye darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest that you could feel more than hear. In a swift movement, he grasped your thighs and lifted you onto the desk, his body moving between your legs as he pinned you there with his weight.

The sudden shift left you breathless, your heart pounding wildly as you looked up at him, his face illuminated by the dim amber light of the lamp. His eye searched yours, intense and focused, as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden beneath your skin.

"Careful what you wish for," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr. His hand slid up your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting along your jawline. “Who would’ve thought you would turn into this nasty dearly thing huh?”

You shivered at his touch, at the way his breath felt against your skin, hot and heavy with want. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you arched into him, desperate for more.

"I'm not afraid of you," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. "Are you?"

His response was a sharp nip to your earlobe, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, I'm not afraid," he murmured, his hand sliding higher, fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt. "But you should be."

You gasped as his fingers pushed under the fabric, trailing fire across your skin as they moved higher and higher. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in the sensation, in the way his touch ignited every nerve ending in your body.

"Enlighten me, Eye of Zaun.”

Silco's response was a low growl, a sound of pure hunger as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you, as his hands roamed your body with a desperate need.

You moaned into the kiss, your own hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deeper. The heat between you was suffocating, all-consuming, and you felt like you were drowning in the depths of your own desire.

His hands slipped under your shirt, fingers splaying across your bare skin as he broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. You arched into him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he left a path of fire across your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point.

"You want me?" he growled against your skin, one hand sliding up to cup your breast through your bra. "You want to see what I can do to you?"

You nodded frantically, too lost in the sensations to form words. Your body was on fire, every touch of his hands sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

With a low chuckle, Silco's hand deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before his fingers closed around your sensitive peak. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he pinched and rolled the hardening bud between his fingers.

"That's it," he purred, his voice dark with lust. "Let me hear you."

His other hand slipped through your bottoms into your panties, fingers gliding through your slick folds. You were already wet, already aching for him, and he groaned at the feel of you.

“I could practically kill you right now. Cage you— Torture you.” He chuckled as he looked at you, your mind already too lost to answer him. "So ready for me," he murmured, circling your clit with a feather-light touch that had you writhing beneath him. "So desperate."

You couldn't deny it. You were desperate, needy, aching for his touch like nothing you'd ever felt before. This was embarrassing. You always had a crush for the man, but you never stopped this low. Your hands scrabbled at his back, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer.

"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how needy you sounded. "Please, Silco."

“Who’s in control now, dear?”

“F-fuck you Silco.”

“I think it’s the other way around.”  He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

His fingers slid through your slick folds, teasing, taunting, stoking the fire that burned within you. You were already so wet, so ready for him, and the knowledge only seemed to spur him on.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So desperate for me, so needy."

He circled your clit with a feather-light touch, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he kept up the maddeningly slow pace.

"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how desperate you sounded. "Silco, please..."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His fingers continued their torturous dance, dipping inside you, stroking along your inner walls before retreating to circle your clit once more.

"What do you want, dear?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you need."

Your head thrashed on the desk, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. You were so close, teetering on the edge of release, and yet he kept you there, balanced on a knife's edge.

"I want you," you gasped, your voice breaking on a moan as his fingers curled inside you. "I want your cock, Silco. Please, give it to me."

He groaned at your words, his eye darkening with lust. With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you empty and aching.

"Beg for it," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Beg me to fuck you."

You didn't hesitate, too lost in the throes of your own need to feel anything but the desperate hunger that consumed you.

"Please," you sobbed, your hips rolling shamelessly against him. "Please, Silco, I need your cock. I need you inside me, filling me, fucking me. Please, I'll do anything, just give it to me, give me your cock, please..."

You begged and pleaded, desperate for the touch of his cock, and Silco finally relented. With a low growl, he tugged your panties down your thighs, exposing your dripping core to the cool air of the room. You shivered at the sensation, at the way his eye raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So perfect."

There was a calculated intensity in his gaze, a sense of purpose that sent a thrill of excitement through you. Silco was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it with unwavering focus.

He pushed your legs apart, settling between your thighs as he freed his cock from the confines of his pants. It sprang forth, hard and thick and already dripping with precum. You licked your lips at the sight, your core clenching with anticipation.

But Silco didn't rush, didn't give in to the desperate hunger that burned between you. Instead, he took his time, his fingers tracing along your slick folds with a maddeningly slow pace. You squirmed beneath his touch, your hips rolling shamelessly as you sought more of him.

"Patience," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I'll give you what you need, but first, I want to savor every inch of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement that left you trembling. Silco was a man who took control, who demanded submission, and the thought of being at his mercy only fueled the fire that burned within you.

With a single, measured thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick length. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the desk as he filled you completely.

But even as he claimed you, there was a detachment in his movements, a sense that he was simply taking what he needed without any real emotional investment. He set a steady pace, his hips rocking against yours with a calculated precision that left you breathless.

Each thrust was designed to push you closer to the edge, to shatter the fragile control you clung to. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he used you for his own pleasure. There was no tenderness in his touch, no whispered words of affection or praise. Instead, there was a cold, clinical efficiency to his movements, as if he was simply fulfilling a basic need.

You could feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core, your body responding to his touch despite the lack of emotional connection. Your nails scrabbled at his back, leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer, to force some kind of reaction from him.

But Silco remained impassive, his eye never leaving yours as he continued to pound into you with a relentless rhythm. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, his jaw clenched tight with the effort of holding back his own release.

You could tell he was close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. But still, he didn't give in to the pleasure, didn't let himself fall into the abyss of ecstasy that threatened to consume you both.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his release. You could feel the hot spurt of his cum filling you, marking you as his own, and a part of you thrilled at the thought of being claimed by him.

As he pulled away, his softening cock slipping from your well-used core, you felt a sudden chill, a sense of abandonment that left you aching for something more. But you knew better than to ask for it, to beg for the affection and tenderness you craved

For a moment, his eye raked over your naked form, taking in the marks he'd left on your skin, the way your body trembled in the aftermath of your shared pleasure.

But then, as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. Silco straightened, his expression closing off and hiding the small bit of tenderness you could see once in him, becoming once again the cold, calculating man you knew him to be.

He passed you some tissues, "Clean yourself up," he ordered, his voice clipped and businesslike. "And don’t forget to tell your group to stay off what it’s not theirs"

With that, he turned and strode towards the door, leaving you lying there on the desk, exposed and vulnerable. You watched him go, a confusing mix of emotions swirling within you. There was the lingering heat of your shared passion, the ache of your body as it remembered his touch. But beneath it all was a growing sense of emptiness, a longing for something more than the cold, clinical coupling you'd just experienced.

You knew Silco was not a man given to tenderness or affection. He was a survivor, a fighter, a man who took what he wanted and moved on without a second thought. And yet, even knowing this, even understanding the futility of your desires, you couldn't help but wish for more.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the desk, wincing slightly as your sore muscles protested the movement. You grabbed your discarded clothes, pulling them on with shaking hands. As you smoothed your clothes, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. You were sure this was not the only time you would be here begging for him after all this.

Only time would tell. But one thing was certain - you were in deep, and there was no turning back now. Silco had claimed you, marked you as his own, and whether he admitted it or not, you knew that you would always be his, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

[roturo]

i got all hot and bothered watching squid game ep.01.s.02 likeeeee GONG YOOOOOO, EXCUSE ME?????? felt like a man watching megan fox in transformers like damn, should i write for him?

[roturo]

Gojo Satoru who's beginning to fall in love with his sugar baby!

read pt 1 and pt2, before continuing.

Gojo stood outside your door, the weight of every choice he'd made— or refused to make— pressing down on him. He should walk away. That's what he'd always done when things got too real, too messy. But tonight, he couldn't. Not when the thought of someone else touching you, knowing you the way he did, was driving him to the brink.

He raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the sound of muffled voices reached him. His breath hitched when he heard it: a man's voice. Deep, unfamiliar, and entirely too close to you.

His knuckles hit the door harder than intended. Once. Twice. A warning knock, sharp and unrelenting.

When you answered, you were startled, your eyes widening slightly before narrowing in frustration. You stepped into the doorway, just enough to block his view of the inside.

"Satoru," you said, your tone clipped. "What are you doing here?"

His gaze swept over you, lingering on the slight flush in your cheeks and the way your hair was a little out of place. He noticed the faint hum of music in the background, and it made his stomach churn.

"Who is he?" Gojo asked, his voice cold, biting.

You blinked, your expression hardening.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb," he snapped, his eyes narrowing. "I heard him."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. "That's none of your business."

Gojo laughed, a low, humorless sound.

"None of my business? That's funny, coming from someone who let me fuck them like they meant something just a few weeks ago."

You flinched, but you didn't back down. "And whose fault is that, Satoru? You're the one who made it clear this wasn't real. You said it yourself-no strings, no feelings. So why do you care now?"

"I don't," he said quickly, too quickly. His jaw tightened, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, his voice dropping. "I just didn't think you'd move on so fast."

Your eyes flashed with anger. "Move on?

God, you're unbelievable." You stepped forward, poking a finger into his chest. "You don't want me, but you can't stand the idea of someone else wanting me either. Do you even hear yourself?" You know you’re repeating yourself, he always knew there was danger in the heat of your touch.

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps approached, and Gojo's entire body went rigid. The other man appeared behind you, his figure tall and broad, his expression casual but watchful as his hand rested lightly on your shoulder.

Gojo's eyes locked on the man's hand, and something inside him snapped. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his voice dripping with venom. "This guy?"

"This guy has a name," you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Leo. And unlike you, he actually knows how to show up."

Gojo laughed again, this time louder, harsher.

"Show up? That's your bar? Someone who shows up? Congratulations, sweetheart, you've really hit the jackpot."

"Stop it," you hissed, stepping between them. "You don't get to do this, Satoru. You don't get to come here, throw a tantrum, and act like you care. Because if you cared, you would've been here weeks ago."

"Maybe I didn't think you'd be so quick to spread your legs for someone else," he shot back, his voice low and sharp.

The slap came before you even realized you'd raised your hand. The sound echoed in the small space, and Gojo's head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging from the force.

"Get out," you said, your voice trembling with rage and something far more fragile. "Go home, Satoru. Wherever the hell that is. Just... leave me alone."

For a moment, he didn't move. He stared at you, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and something far more vulnerable. Then his gaze shifted to Leo, who stood silently behind you, his presence steady in a way Gojo's never was.

Gojo's lips curled into a bitter smirk. "Fine," he said, stepping back. "Have fun with your rebound." His words were laced with venom, but his voice cracked just enough to betray him.

He turned and walked away, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing in his chest. As he disappeared into the night, he realized that for the first time in his life, he'd lost something he couldn't get back.

And it was his own damn fault. He saw forever so he smashed it up.

Gojo didn't go far. He stopped at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall with a hand buried in his hair. His mind was a mess, replaying the slap, the way your voice cracked, the sight of another man standing behind you like he had any right to be there.

The image burned in his chest, feeding the fire of his jealousy until it was an inferno. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't have cared. But he did. And that was the problem.

As much as he wanted to walk away and let pride win, his feet wouldn't move. Instead, he found himself circling back, hovering near your door like a ghost, the muffled sound of your laughter with Leo scraping against his nerves like broken glass.

He didn't knock this time. Instead, he pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear the words exchanged between you.

"Leo," your voice came softly, the warmth in it like a knife to Gojo's gut. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect him to-"

"It's fine," Leo said, his tone calm, reassuring. "Do you want me to stay? Just in case?"

Gojo's jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He could picture it-Leo staying the night, slipping into your bed, touching you like he belonged there. It was unbearable.

His hand hovered over the doorknob, the shared key in his pocket burning like a brand. He shouldn't. He couldn't. But before he could stop himself, the door creaked open.

The room went silent.

You turned first, eyes wide in disbelief as Gojo stepped inside, his figure towering, his presence suffocating. Leo stood beside the couch, his posture tensing as Gojo's icy blue eyes flicked to him, then back to you.

"What the hell are you doing?" you demanded, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief.

"Didn't realize we were locking doors now," Gojo said coolly, his gaze settling on Leo. "I thought I still had a key."

Leo raised an eyebrow, his expression unbothered but his stance steady. "You need to leave man. You're not welcome here."

Gojo ignored him, his attention fixed solely on you. "Is this really what you want?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. "A guy who'll just stand here while someone else walks into his girl's apartment?"

Your mouth fell open in shock, anger flashing in your eyes. "Don't you dare call me your girl. You lost the right to say that the second you decided I wasn't enough for you."

Something in Gojo's expression cracked, the cool facade slipping for a moment. "You were always enough," he said, his voice low.

"That's the problem."

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a split second, the tension shifted. His vulnerability shone through, raw and unfiltered, and you could see it—the part of him he always hid, the part that hurt just as much as you did.

But Leo stepped forward, his hand on your arm. "You don't have to listen to this," he said softly, his presence grounding you.

Gojo's gaze dropped to where Leo touched you, his fists clenching at his sides. "Get your hand off her," he said, his voice low and dangerous— this dude clearly didn’t know a shit about him.

The dopamine races through his brain, his hand so calloused from his power, his eyes softly trace hearts on you face behind the black obscure glasses— and you could see it from a mile away, it’s a perfect case for your certain skill set.

He had a halo of the highest grade, "Or what?" Leo challenged, his calm exterior finally cracking.

You stepped between them, your hands outstretched. "Stop.” you shouted, your voice breaking. "Both of you, just stop"

Gojo froze, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. His eyes locked on yours, and for the first time, he looked small. Lost.

"You don't want him," he said, his voice soft but urgent, like a plea. "You don't. He can't give you what I can."

"And what's that?" you shot back, tears brimming in your eyes. "More pain? More nights wondering where you are, who you're with? I'm done, Satoru. I'm done waiting for you to figure out how to care about me."

"You think I don't care?" he asked, stepping closer, his voice trembling. "You think I don't hate myself for every second I spent away from you? For every time I chose someone else over you because I was too scared of What you meant to me?"

Your breath hitched, the tears spilling over now. "Then why didn't you stay?"

Gojo stood there, his knuckles white as they clenched into fists. The heat of your words— the finality in them-wrapped around his chest like a vice. He was losing you, and the worst part? He knew it was his fault.

"You think I didn't want to stay?" he asked, his voice low and bitter. "I wanted to, but I-" He cut himself off, his gaze darting to Leo like he couldn't bear to finish the thought with him in the room.

"You what, Satoru?" you demanded, stepping closer, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "You wanted to, but you chose not to. Every. single. time."

The sound of your voice triggered a memory, one he couldn't push away.

"Say it," you'd whispered, your breath warm against his neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he pinned you beneath him on your bed, your bodies tangled in the sheets. "Tell me I mean something to you."

Gojo's laugh had been low and soft, almost tender. "You're trouble, that's what you are," he'd said, brushing his lips against your collarbone. But he hadn't answered—not the way you wanted him to. Instead, he'd kissed you, slow and deep, swallowing the words he couldn't say.

He shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. "You don't get it," he said, his voice cracking. "I wasn't enough for you. I'm still not. You deserve someone better than me."

"You don't get to decide that," you snapped, your voice shaking with fury. "You don't get to break me and then act like it's for my own good."

The weight of your words hit him like a punch, but he didn't back down. "I was protecting you!" he shouted, his frustration spilling over.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head.

"Protecting me? Is that what you call it?” You know you can handle a dangerous man. “Leaving me alone in bed while you text other women? Making me feel like I was just another name on your list?"

You'd been straddling him on the couch, the glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. His hands gripped your waist, his lips devouring yours like he was starving. "You're addictive," he'd murmured, his voice husky. "You're going to ruin me."

"Then let me," you'd whispered back, your forehead resting against his. For a moment, his eyes had softened, his walls crumbling just enough for you to see the man underneath the bravado. But by morning, he was gone, leaving only a note and the faint scent of his cologne.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Gojo said now, his voice softer, like he was trying to reach the part of you that still might care. "But I didn't know how to keep you without losing myself."

You swallowed hard, the rawness in his voice tugging at something deep inside you. But before you could respond, Leo stepped forward, placing a hand on your back. The touch was steady, grounding, and it pulled you back to the present with a disgust, not because of the memory, but because it wasn’t the touch you desired.

"She doesn't need this, man," Leo said, his voice calm but firm. "You've done enough."

Gojo's eyes snapped to Leo, his anger flaring again. "And what exactly do you think you are to her?" he asked, his tone sharp and biting. "Some knight in shining armor? You don't know her like I do."

"Don't hide from me," he'd said one night, his fingers trailing down your bare spine as you lay together in the dark. "You're beautiful, and you don't even see it. It drives me insane." His lips had brushed against your shoulder, his breath warm as he whispered, "Let me show you."

And he had-slowly, reverently-his hands mapping every inch of your body like he was memorizing you. In those moments, he'd been yours entirely. But they never lasted.

"She's not yours anymore," Leo said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "And maybe she never was."

He looked at you, his eyes pleading. "Tell him he's wrong," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell him it wasn't all fake. That it wasn't just some... convenience."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. Because it hadn't been fake-not for you. But how could you say that now, when he'd already torn you apart?

Gojo stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Do you remember that night at the lookout?" he asked, his voice desperate now. "When you told me you'd never felt that way about anyone else? You meant it. I know you did." Handcuffed to the spell you were under, for just one hour of sunshine.

You'd been sitting on the hood of his car, the city lights stretching out below you.

He'd stood between your legs, his hands on either side of your face, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "You're dangerous," he'd said, his voice low. "You make me want things I shouldn't want."

Months of labor, locks and ceilings— In the shade of how he was feeling..

"Like what?" you'd asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Like keeping you," he'd replied, his forehead resting against yours. "Like staying."

You took a shaky breath, your eyes meeting his. "I can't do this anymore, Satoru," you said, your voice breaking. "I can't keep hoping you'll stay when you never do."

Gojo's face crumpled, his mask shattering completely. He reached for you, but Leo stepped between you, his stance protective.

"She said enough," Leo said firmly. "It's time for you to leave."

For a moment, Gojo looked like he might fight back, his hands trembling at his sides.

But then he took a step back, his shoulders slumping.

"This isn't over," he said, his voice hoarse.

"I'll prove to you that I can be better. That I can be what you want.”

[roturo]

YOU'RE BACK

FUCK YEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

THAT’s RIGHT BABYYYYY IM BACKKKKKK

[roturo]

you are such an absolute baddie for being a kpop stan and a silco stan

may harm never come to you, i love you, bye ♡

ILYSM 🥹 i wish you the happiest life even dear!!!

[roturo]

❝ MOVE, IT'S A FALSE GOD ❞

A rising drug dealer returns to Zaun, igniting a "dangerous" power struggle. Tension turns into passion, old routes blur, who will control the game?

⤹ warnings: power dynamics, older man/younger woman, age gap, dom/sub dynamics, angst, begging, pwp, sexual tension, afab!reader praising, pet names, fingering.

⤹ songs used: move - taemin, false god - taylor swift, black swan - bts, danger - txt, automatic - red velvet.

The air in Silco’s private office was thick with smoke, curling around the dim amber light that spilled from a single lamp. You leaned against the chair, the same old chair you used to sit to just watch the man infront of you start creating what would be the ruin of Zean, his blue eye lifting from the long forgotten documents he was supposedly reading before your entrance— arms crossed, your confidence unwavering despite the sharp gaze he leveled at you— or at least, that’s what you try to pretend.

“It’s been a while,” you said pretending nonchalantly, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “I almost thought you’d forgotten about me, Silco. But here we are.”

He didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a slow drag from his cigar, letting the silence stretch. It was the same with him as always—every move, every glance, carefully calculated to put others on edge. Once, it had worked on you.

Not anymore.

“I don’t forget,” Silco said finally, his voice low and deliberate. “Especially not those who think they can play in my waters without permission.”

You chuckled, a sound that carried a hint of mockery. “Is that what this is about? Permission? I didn’t think you’d care, considering how… insignificant I used to be.”

His eye twitched, just barely, and you knew you’d struck a nerve. It was subtle, but years of knowing him had taught you how to read those tiny cracks in his armor.

“You were a child then,” he said, his tone clipped. “A reckless, naïve—”

“And now?” you interrupted, stepping closer, your confidence cutting through the haze of smoke. “Still think I’m a child, Silco? Because from where I’m standing, I seem to be doing just fine without your approval. Even starting to strike your own success.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. His good eye studied you, cold and unblinking, but there was something else there too—something that betrayed his calm exterior.

“You’ve built quite the reputation,” he said at last, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “Impressive, even. But reputations don’t protect you when you’re making enemies on all sides. Especially not mine.”

You smiled, slow and sharp. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you.”

He laughed, his breathless old laugh bringing the same warm (and rare) feeling to your chest. He looked at you in a way you couldn’t describe, he was always the one you looked up for, not Vander, not Vi, him. Even when everything went to shit.

“You think i’m feeling threatened by your presence here when you’re the one who always kept following around when you were just a clueless teenager trying to survive here?”

He smirked to himself, if you didn’t know him all this years you wouldn’t be able to see it, he took another long drag of his cigarette, making sure to look at you with a tentative face, like he’s testing the waters.

Silco’s smirk lingered as his gaze roamed over you, deliberate and slow. It wasn’t the predatory kind that most in the Undercity wielded like a weapon—no, this was something subtler, more dangerous. He let the silence between you stretch again, his presence pulling the air tight, as if daring you to speak first.

You didn’t.

He leaned back in his chair, the sharp edge of his posture softening just enough to make him seem almost at ease. The movement was calculated, you knew—it always was with him—but the faint trail of smoke curling lazily from his cigar only added to the intimacy of the space.

“You’ve certainly grown,” he said, his tone low and silken, as though the words were more for himself than for you.

It wasn’t a compliment. At least, not entirely. But the way his eye flicked down to where your fingers rested on the edge of his desk, nails tapping a faint rhythm, made you feel as though he was cataloging every inch of you.

“Out of your shadow, I’d say,” you replied smoothly, letting your lips curve into a faint smirk of your own. “Which I imagine doesn’t sit well with you, does it?”

He exhaled another cloud of smoke, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Is that what you think this is? Some petty tantrum over losing control?”

“Isn’t it?” you countered, stepping closer. The glow of the lamp cast a golden hue across your skin as you closed the space between you, slow and deliberate.

You saw his eye darken slightly, his gaze following your movement with the precision of a predator assessing its prey. But he didn’t move away. If anything, the tension between you only seemed to tighten as you came to a stop just shy of touching him.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re playing a game you’re not prepared to lose.”

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I intend to lose. Maybe I know exactly what I’m doing.”

The sound he made—a low, amused hum—sent a shiver down your spine. He was close enough now that you could smell the faint metallic edge of smoke and shimmer clinging to his suit.

“Do you, though?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk, the movement drawing you in until there was barely a breath of space between you.

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to look away. His good eye searched yours, his smirk softening into something more dangerous. Not threatening, but something far worse: intrigued.

“You’ve always had fire,” he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you. “But ambition without restraint… That’s a dangerous thing in this world.”

“And yet, here I am,” you shot back, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the weight of his words.

His gaze dipped briefly—to your lips, before sliding back up to meet your eyes. It was fleeting, but unmistakable.

“You’re bold,” he admitted, his voice dropping further, the gravel in it brushing against your nerves. “But boldness doesn’t mean you can stand the heat when you step into the fire.”

“Maybe,” you said, leaning forward until you were close enough to feel the faint warmth of his breath on your skin, “I just enjoy the burn.”

For the briefest moment, you saw something flicker in his gaze—something he quickly buried behind a sharp inhale and another pull from his cigar. But the tension lingered, coiling tight between you like a rope about to snap.

His eye sharpened as your words hung in the air. That flicker of intrigue you’d seen moments ago twisted into something darker, something colder—and yet impossibly more magnetic.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” he said, his voice soft but cutting. “That your rise makes you untouchable. But even kings can fall.”

Your lips parted in a quiet scoff. “Kings fall when they stop watching the board. And as far as I can see, you’re the one sitting comfortably on your throne while the ground beneath you starts to crack.”

His laugh was low, more exhalation than sound, as he leaned back in his chair. “A clever metaphor,” he murmured, his tone almost amused, silently nodding to your point. Who would’ve known you would turn this way, follow his path—and even his words? The realization sparked a strange feeling deep in his stomach, a warm, fuzzy sensation creeping up his neck.

“But let me remind you,” he continued, his voice still smooth, “who built that board you’re so eager to play on.”

“And let me remind you,” you shot back, stepping even closer, “that no one stays untouchable forever—not even you.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of tension between you, the air too thick with smoke and unsaid words. And then he moved.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, not with Silco. He didn’t need one. Instead, he stood, the slow scrape of his chair against the floor sending a chill down your spine. By the time he was upright, he had erased the distance you’d carefully maintained, stepping into your space with a precision that left no room for retreat.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. The closeness made it feel like a growl. “You might end up liking the view from your knees.”

You felt your breath hitch before you could stop it. The words struck something deep and primal, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of faltering—even though those words stirred something inside you, a desire, a want… a need.

“And you might find,” you said, voice steady despite the way your heart pounded, “that even from my knees, I can be the one in control.”

Something in his expression shifted—just barely, but you caught it. That sharp, calculating mask cracked for a fraction of a second, and you saw the flicker of frustration—or was it fascination?—beneath it.

He reached for the desk behind you, his hand brushing the edge as he leaned in, caging you against it without ever truly touching you. The faint smell of smoke and ash filled your senses, grounding you even as the tension spiraled. All you could smell was his expensive perfume mixed with the burn of his daily cigarettes—his scent, only his.

Maybe your group was waiting for you, wondering what the hell you were doing with Silco, maybe even planning what to do if he killed you. But the situation you were in now was far better than anything else you’d ever experienced. This was the dirty, dangerous dream of a naïve teenager—the dream you’d always had since the first time you met him. You couldn’t risk losing it now.

“You don’t understand what you’re toying with,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a rasp.

“Don’t I?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You’re the one who called me here, Silco. So tell me—what exactly are you afraid of?”

The silence that followed was deafening. His eye bore into yours, searching, testing, as though trying to unravel the web you’d spun between the two of you.

And then he smiled. Not the sharp, mocking grin you’d expected, but something slower, quieter—dangerous in its restraint.

“Fear isn’t the word I’d use,” he said, his voice like silk. “But perhaps… curiosity.”

Silco's gaze never wavered from yours as he took a slow, deliberate step forward. There was no more room between you—no space for retreat, no escape from the storm building in the air around you. His scent, his presence, overwhelmed you, filling your lungs and sinking into your skin.

His hand reached up, but this time it wasn't to push you away— it was to lift your chin, gently, but with undeniable force. His touch was cold, his fingers rough against the delicate curve of your jaw, and yet the heat radiating off him burned you alive. You could barely breathe beneath the intensity of his stare.

“I'm curious,” he murmured, voice low and dark, like the very shadows that filled the room. His thumb brushed along your lower lip, soft yet commanding, testing, teasing.

“Do you know what you're asking for?”

Your heart was pounding, but you refused to show weakness. You forced your gaze to stay locked on his, your breath shallow as you leaned into his touch, letting the burn of his fingers draw you closer. You could feel the weight of his presence, the power he exuded, the way it seeped into your very bones.

“I think,” you breathed, voice trembling just slightly, “I'm asking you to show me.”

The words had barely left your lips when his face closed the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours in a shared, heated exhale. His lips hovered above yours, close enough to taste, but he didn't kiss you —no. Instead, he let the anticipation hang, let it build, until you were certain you couldn't take it anymore. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you could think about was the want-the desperate, aching need that had been simmering between you for so long.

“Show you?” he repeated, his voice thick, almost a growl. “You're bold to ask for that.”

Without warning, he pulled you closer, his hand gripping the back of your neck with a quiet authority that made your pulse spike.

His lips finally brushed against yours, a fleeting kiss, as light and delicate as the whisper of a shadow. But that brief touch was enough to send a jolt of heat through your entire body, making your knees threaten to buckle.

Before you could recover, he deepened the kiss-fierce, hungry, as if he'd been waiting for this moment as much as you. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat between you was suffocating, your bodies tangled as the kiss grew more desperate, more urgent. You could feel his heart pounding in sync with yours, the strength in his body pressed against yours, both of you craving something neither could name.

The kiss was a collision of fire and ice, a dangerous dance of control and surrender.

His lips were demanding, possessive, but you matched him, not allowing him to dominate entirely. Every time he pulled back, you followed, chasing him like a moth to a flame.

He pulled away suddenly, leaving you breathless, eyes dark with a mixture of lust and something more complicated-something deeper.

“I've always liked fire,” he rasped, voice rougher now, as though the kiss had burned him just as much as it had you. “But fire... it burns. And you're playing with it.”

You weren't sure if it was the heat of the moment, the way his hands had claimed you, or the raw hunger in his voice-but something inside you snapped.

“I'd say l'm more like an ice burn,” you murmured, your voice dripping with defiance.

Before he could respond, you surged forward, taking control, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was anything but delicate. 

The hunger between you was instantaneous, primal, as your hands gripped him with a new sense of authority. Silco had always been the one in charge, but now the roles had reversed, and you were the one pulling him closer, pushing him back against the desk with an intensity that left him breathless.

His shock didn't last long. Silco's hands moved, as though to regain control, but you were quicker. You pulled him firmly against you, forcing him to the edge of the desk, caging him there with your body. Your kiss was hungry, urgent, as though you were trying to consume him, and it felt like you were doing just that-biting, tugging, exploring him in ways that left no room for hesitation.

Silco's breath hitched, but this time it wasn't from power-it was from you. You were the one dominating the kiss now, your hands roaming across his chest, your body pressing him down with a quiet strength. He groaned against your lips, caught off guard by your sudden shift, and yet there was no resistance in him now. Only the heat of his body, the fire in his gaze.

His hands found your hips, but you didn't let him move you. You weren't done. Not yet.

“You think you control everything,” you said between kisses, your voice low and teasing.

“But even you can't resist me now.”

His hands tightened on your waist, but he didn't pull you away. Instead, he seemed to surrender to it, to you. His kiss deepened, now one of want-raw and desperate, matching your own intensity as you continued to trap him against the desk.

“Then show me,” he growled against your lips, hands gripping your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. “Prove it.” Silco's growl sent a shiver down your spine, his hands tightening on your waist with just enough pressure to remind you exactly who was in charge here. You may have thought you could control the moment, but Silco wasn't one to be caged-or tamed.

The smirk tugging at your lips faltered as his hands moved, sliding up your back and pulling you flush against him. His strength was effortless, his grip commanding, and the air between you seemed to crackle as he tilted his head, his lips grazing yours in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your entire body.

“Mercy?” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft, though his grip on you was anything but. “You seem to be under the impression that I allow mercy.”

The air between you crackled with tension, charged with an electricity that prickled your skin as Silco's hands tightened on your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power in his grip, and it only fueled the fire burning within you.

"I don't want mercy," you breathed, your voice low and husky, your lips hovering just a hair's breadth from his.

His good eye darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest that you could feel more than hear. In a swift movement, he grasped your thighs and lifted you onto the desk, his body moving between your legs as he pinned you there with his weight.

The sudden shift left you breathless, your heart pounding wildly as you looked up at him, his face illuminated by the dim amber light of the lamp. His eye searched yours, intense and focused, as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden beneath your skin.

"Careful what you wish for," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr. His hand slid up your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting along your jawline. “Who would’ve thought you would turn into this nasty dearly thing huh?”

You shivered at his touch, at the way his breath felt against your skin, hot and heavy with want. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you arched into him, desperate for more.

"I'm not afraid of you," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. "Are you?"

His response was a sharp nip to your earlobe, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, I'm not afraid," he murmured, his hand sliding higher, fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt. "But you should be."

You gasped as his fingers pushed under the fabric, trailing fire across your skin as they moved higher and higher. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in the sensation, in the way his touch ignited every nerve ending in your body.

"Enlighten me, Eye of Zaun.”

Silco's response was a low growl, a sound of pure hunger as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you, as his hands roamed your body with a desperate need.

You moaned into the kiss, your own hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deeper. The heat between you was suffocating, all-consuming, and you felt like you were drowning in the depths of your own desire.

His hands slipped under your shirt, fingers splaying across your bare skin as he broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. You arched into him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he left a path of fire across your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point.

"You want me?" he growled against your skin, one hand sliding up to cup your breast through your bra. "You want to see what I can do to you?"

You nodded frantically, too lost in the sensations to form words. Your body was on fire, every touch of his hands sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

With a low chuckle, Silco's hand deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before his fingers closed around your sensitive peak. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he pinched and rolled the hardening bud between his fingers.

"That's it," he purred, his voice dark with lust. "Let me hear you."

His other hand slipped through your bottoms into your panties, fingers gliding through your slick folds. You were already wet, already aching for him, and he groaned at the feel of you.

“I could practically kill you right now. Cage you— Torture you.” He chuckled as he looked at you, your mind already too lost to answer him. "So ready for me," he murmured, circling your clit with a feather-light touch that had you writhing beneath him. "So desperate."

You couldn't deny it. You were desperate, needy, aching for his touch like nothing you'd ever felt before. This was embarrassing. You always had a crush for the man, but you never stopped this low. Your hands scrabbled at his back, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer.

"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how needy you sounded. "Please, Silco."

“Who’s in control now, dear?”

“F-fuck you Silco.”

“I think it’s the other way around.”  He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

His fingers slid through your slick folds, teasing, taunting, stoking the fire that burned within you. You were already so wet, so ready for him, and the knowledge only seemed to spur him on.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So desperate for me, so needy."

He circled your clit with a feather-light touch, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he kept up the maddeningly slow pace.

"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how desperate you sounded. "Silco, please..."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His fingers continued their torturous dance, dipping inside you, stroking along your inner walls before retreating to circle your clit once more.

"What do you want, dear?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you need."

Your head thrashed on the desk, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. You were so close, teetering on the edge of release, and yet he kept you there, balanced on a knife's edge.

"I want you," you gasped, your voice breaking on a moan as his fingers curled inside you. "I want your cock, Silco. Please, give it to me."

He groaned at your words, his eye darkening with lust. With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you empty and aching.

"Beg for it," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Beg me to fuck you."

You didn't hesitate, too lost in the throes of your own need to feel anything but the desperate hunger that consumed you.

"Please," you sobbed, your hips rolling shamelessly against him. "Please, Silco, I need your cock. I need you inside me, filling me, fucking me. Please, I'll do anything, just give it to me, give me your cock, please..."

You begged and pleaded, desperate for the touch of his cock, and Silco finally relented. With a low growl, he tugged your panties down your thighs, exposing your dripping core to the cool air of the room. You shivered at the sensation, at the way his eye raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So perfect."

There was a calculated intensity in his gaze, a sense of purpose that sent a thrill of excitement through you. Silco was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it with unwavering focus.

He pushed your legs apart, settling between your thighs as he freed his cock from the confines of his pants. It sprang forth, hard and thick and already dripping with precum. You licked your lips at the sight, your core clenching with anticipation.

But Silco didn't rush, didn't give in to the desperate hunger that burned between you. Instead, he took his time, his fingers tracing along your slick folds with a maddeningly slow pace. You squirmed beneath his touch, your hips rolling shamelessly as you sought more of him.

"Patience," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I'll give you what you need, but first, I want to savor every inch of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement that left you trembling. Silco was a man who took control, who demanded submission, and the thought of being at his mercy only fueled the fire that burned within you.

With a single, measured thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick length. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the desk as he filled you completely.

But even as he claimed you, there was a detachment in his movements, a sense that he was simply taking what he needed without any real emotional investment. He set a steady pace, his hips rocking against yours with a calculated precision that left you breathless.

Each thrust was designed to push you closer to the edge, to shatter the fragile control you clung to. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he used you for his own pleasure. There was no tenderness in his touch, no whispered words of affection or praise. Instead, there was a cold, clinical efficiency to his movements, as if he was simply fulfilling a basic need.

You could feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core, your body responding to his touch despite the lack of emotional connection. Your nails scrabbled at his back, leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer, to force some kind of reaction from him.

But Silco remained impassive, his eye never leaving yours as he continued to pound into you with a relentless rhythm. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, his jaw clenched tight with the effort of holding back his own release.

You could tell he was close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. But still, he didn't give in to the pleasure, didn't let himself fall into the abyss of ecstasy that threatened to consume you both.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his release. You could feel the hot spurt of his cum filling you, marking you as his own, and a part of you thrilled at the thought of being claimed by him.

As he pulled away, his softening cock slipping from your well-used core, you felt a sudden chill, a sense of abandonment that left you aching for something more. But you knew better than to ask for it, to beg for the affection and tenderness you craved

For a moment, his eye raked over your naked form, taking in the marks he'd left on your skin, the way your body trembled in the aftermath of your shared pleasure.

But then, as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. Silco straightened, his expression closing off and hiding the small bit of tenderness you could see once in him, becoming once again the cold, calculating man you knew him to be.

He passed you some tissues, "Clean yourself up," he ordered, his voice clipped and businesslike. "And don’t forget to tell your group to stay off what it’s not theirs"

With that, he turned and strode towards the door, leaving you lying there on the desk, exposed and vulnerable. You watched him go, a confusing mix of emotions swirling within you. There was the lingering heat of your shared passion, the ache of your body as it remembered his touch. But beneath it all was a growing sense of emptiness, a longing for something more than the cold, clinical coupling you'd just experienced.

You knew Silco was not a man given to tenderness or affection. He was a survivor, a fighter, a man who took what he wanted and moved on without a second thought. And yet, even knowing this, even understanding the futility of your desires, you couldn't help but wish for more.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the desk, wincing slightly as your sore muscles protested the movement. You grabbed your discarded clothes, pulling them on with shaking hands. As you smoothed your clothes, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. You were sure this was not the only time you would be here begging for him after all this.

Only time would tell. But one thing was certain - you were in deep, and there was no turning back now. Silco had claimed you, marked you as his own, and whether he admitted it or not, you knew that you would always be his, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

[roturo]

yall im doing silco x reader and them ekko x reader, ngl i already had some silco x reader done in my drafts

[roturo]

hello, people!!! life has been stressful these days, but somehow, yk, i always end up coming back and at least delivering one piece of writing once in a while. im so freaking grateful for this community WE have created! you know i always appreciate comments, reblogs, and support so, so, so much. this is something i’m very proud of.

right now, i can say i finally have the time to start writing again—it’s almost like a cycle; i always come back in winter, lololol! So, I wanted to ask you: what do you want me to write? i have sooo many ideas, but I’ve been wanting to write for silco since arcane dropped. sooo, tell me! inboxes are open and warmly welcomed. <3

[roturo]

Hi! I have a question. I would like to translate your stuff How sweet it tastes. Can I ask your permission to do that? I will indicate all credit.

yesss! its okay! i world love to see it <3

[roturo]

Couldddd you please write something with hiromi?? I'd appreciate itttt so muchh :)

At Law

Tags: Hiromi Higuruma x fem!Reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, hate fucking, unhinged!hiromi, depictions of violence including murder

Synopsis: Being the state’s district attorney was your dream job. After years of law school and hard work, you were finally appointed the job and allowed to represent the state in court. You singlehandedly decided which cases to prosecute and who to bring to justice. When your old academic rival, Hiromi, shows up as a defense attorney in court one evening, you know he’s going to give you a hard trial… and a hard fuck.

An: Anything for you nepobaby :)) Hope you enjoy this. I swear I'm going to make these shorter every time, but then, I start writing and literally can't stop.

You two have been chasing each other for the longest time.

It started in law school. You don't exactly remember how it happened, but slowly over time, you and Hiromi began playing your little academic race.

Both of you were brilliant, quick, and determined. Honestly, you two were like a professor's dream to have.

You found yourself studying longer, committing to all-nighters just to read over several codes of law and past cases in the court. All of it just to score a little bit higher than him on a test.

But dammit, he was faster than you when answering questions the professor proposes. His photographic memory serves him well as he's able to distinctly remember what code a law comes from and where the code is at in the Code of Federal Regulations.

Don't even get me started on how mock trials went. The professor would actually have to stop pairing you two against each other because it would become so toxic and brutal between the two.

As law school progressed, the workload just got worse. The school expected you to complete assignments, study for the bar, and take on unpaid internships. You were a slave for your degree.

Hiromi wasn't immune to those types of pressures either, and as much as he hated to admit it, study partners help retain information better. It would help effectively consume the source material in half the time. Unfortunately, the rest of his peers were just so beneath him...

Well, besides you.

All-nighters weren't lonely anymore. You and Hiromi would drink enough caffeine to kill an elephant and go through weeks worth of content in a night.

"You know... the release of endorphins can help concentration and reduce stress, thus helping students study." Hiromi said one early morning.

It was around four a.m, and you two were covering the petty crimes section. To say it was incredibly boring was an understatement. Students like you and Hiromi would never represent or prosecute clients in petty crimes. You two were destined for so much more.

"What are you suggesting, Hiro?" You ask before a small yawn escapes your mouth. You hadn't even looked up from your book.

"I'm suggesting that we help each other by taking a quick break." He responds as he shoves the book away from your lap. Your surprised eyes look up at his tired ones, and he cups your cheeks before he leans down to kiss you.

You would walk into class sore the next day. As soon as the adrenaline from one round wore off, you two were gunning for the next.

Your study sessions continued on and so did your competitiveness.

When you scored one point higher than him on the bar, he hate fucked you until morning.

Then, he made it his mission to surpass you everywhere else too. Recruiters and attorneys personally from different law firms were ringing Hiromi's phone constantly.

You genuinely believed that he would take the calls on speakerphone just to fucking spite you. You could hear the lawyers on the phone praise him so highly, practically begging for him to come practice at their firm.

Of course, you were getting some recruitment opportunities too, but it was still somehow harder for women to find jobs in the criminal justice field than it was for men. You also hadn't been selling yourself to these firms as much as he was because you had your mind set on working for the state. You wanted to be a prosecutor for the district attorney.

The icing on the cake was when you two were having one of your "study breaks" (aka Hiromi had you bent over your bed, and he was delivering the deepest, most toe curling backshots known to man), and he took a phone call from the district attorney's office.

His hand covered your mouth as he continued to thrust roughly into you while the man on the phone offered Hiromi a job.

"Hm? Oh, thank you for the opportunity." He graciously spoke over the phone as he was absolutely bullying your insides. Your stomach coiled from anger and arousal. You fucking hated him so much. "I'm weighing out all of my options now, but I'll have an answer for you by the end of the week, sir."

After more pleasantries, he hung up the phone and bent over to where he could whisper in your hear. "Hear that, little dove? I'm getting job opportunities from the state while you're under me getting ruined."

"You know, I'll probably be too busy from here on out to play this childish games with you." Thrust. "That'll be too bad, won't it?" Thrust. "Can't say I'll miss you though." Thrust. "Maybe this pretty cunt, but that'll probably be it." Thrust. "Better make this last one count, shouldn't we?" Thrust.

Oh, and he made good on his word. Your entire body ached after he made you finish for the nth time that evening. "I'll see you around, little dove." He whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaving your dorm.

He made good on his word about that too. He never returned to your dorm. Sure, you two were graduating in two days, but some small part of you thought he'd might come over for a celebration.

No, he left you behind. He left you behind. You lost.

The anger burned hot for a few months as you gathered barrings after law school, especially when you'd see his name in the papers.

Defense Attorney Higuruma gets a non-guilty verdict for alleged drug trafficker!

Higuruma sways jury in closing argument, providing the most gut-wrenching speech!

Higuruma, Higuruma, Higuruma.

He was a fucking sensation in the criminal justice field, and his name left a sour taste in your mouth.

The anger only started to subside once you landed your dream job after a long internship. You were finally a prosecutor in a major circuit court in the crimes division.

Hiromi's name finally fled from your brain as you started to flood the newspapers.

Prosecutor helps put away notorious serial killer for life.

Cartel drug lord behind bars after district attorney helps deliver a guilty verdict for over 32 charges.

You finally felt like you hadn't been left behind. You were living the life you wanted to live ever since you were little. Did you imagine you'd be married by now? Yeah, sure. You just... hadn't met the right one yet.

Dating was hard while maintaining a professional career. You had to be extremely choosey for one. It would be scandalous to see a prosecutor dating someone with a criminal record.

And the men were sweet, don't get me wrong. They'd take you on nice dates, write you pitiful love letters, and treat you like a princess... They were all so collectively boring, especially in bed.

You'd tell them! You'd give them incredibly detailed instruction to be rough and mean to you, but they'd always laugh and make some excuse for not wanting to hurt you. Ugh.

Maybe you were ruined by Hiromi... because the only thing that got you off nowadays was the thought of him whispering hateful words into your ear while pounding himself into you with little concern or remorse.

Slowly, the gifts would start appearing.

A bouquet of white roses sitting on your desk. Do you miss me, LD?

You thought it was a simple mistake or a sick prank from one of the criminals you help lock away. You would quietly dispose of the gifts until the slowly became more alarming.

Miss your sweet sounds, LD. An audio recording of you moaning on a tape recorder played.

Who are you trying to look nice for, LD? None of those men could treat you like I did. Pictures of you going out on a date.

I'll take care of them for you. Don't worry your pretty little head, LD. A dead dove.

This was enough to get a harassment and stalking charge, but you didn't want to concern the local police. For one, you knew how lousy the police were when it came to crimes like this from working alongside them. They were honestly an embarrassment. For two, you didn't want this getting out to the public because then copy cats would start up.

You tried investigating on your own, but you came up to a dead end every time. The way this person called you LD made your head spin. That's not even your initials, but the gifts were certainly intended for you.

The only refuge for you was when you were in a court room. You felt safe and protected. A stalker of this degree wouldn't be ballsy enough to confront you in a courtroom while you're surrounded by police and bailiffs constantly.

Your refuge was short-lived by catching a glimpse of a familiar face in court one evening.

He looked as handsome as he did in law school. Hiromi's tired eyes met yours, and he almost immediately cracked a smile as he approached you during recess.

"Well look at you, dove." He smiled as he looked down at you. Hiromi's dark hair laid messily on the top of his head, and he was wearing a full business suit that framed his body nicely. "I see the district attorney's office settled for the second best option after I turned them down. Good for them."

He was still as arrogant and competitive as ever, making your heart flutter like it did back in law school. "Very funny, Hiro." You roll your eyes as you stand to look up at him.

"It's all harmless jokes. I promise. I'm proud of you, really." He assures as his eyes wander your body for just a moment.

You're not use to his praise. Normally, you're not the type to enjoy it, but hearing those words made you clench around nothing as your stomach swirled with butterflies.

"Thanks... I've heard good things about you as well.." You murmur quietly, suddenly losing all your nerve. "So, are you representing someone?"

"I am. I didn't just come here to watch you for fun. Though, I would've had I known you were such a big shot." He nudges your arm gently, causing you to laugh softly. "I'm representing a young man charged with murder. I'm sure you heard about it. Big news all over the television."

"Who was the victim?" You ask as you flip through your case files. If this was a first setting, surely you wouldn't go to trial today, but the thought of going to trial against Hiromi made your heart pound with excitement. Not many lawyers gave you too much trouble during court, but Hiromi... he would be a good match.

"They can't identify the victim. Male, John Doe, early twenties. That's all the information the cops have." He explains, and you start skimming through the case file quickly. It's astonishing that the police made an arrest when there was hardly a body to work from.

"Huh." You muse quietly as you look through the crime scene photos and pictures of the defendant's hands covered in soot from a fire. The victim had been burned.

"I'll be making a motion to dismiss this case based on a lack of substantial evidence linking my defendant to the body. Just a heads up." He then winks at you and walks away from your bar as the judge comes back and sits on the bench.

It seems as though you and Hiromi will have one last back and forth like old times.

When his case gets called before the judge, Hiromi takes the pleasure in speaking first. His client is handcuffed, sitting down next to him. The defendant was young, maybe nineteen. The evidence supporting his conviction was weak, but it was still there. Convincing a jury to convict him will be tough, and that's if the judge doesn't dismiss the charges outright.

After a long, drawn out argument between you and Hiromi about the proponderance of evidence, the judge decides to not dismiss the case.

"In that case, your honor, we would like to request a hearing today." Hiromi speaks with such confidence as he stands before the judge.

"Your honor, the state hasn't had adequate time to prepare for a hearing, and this is first setting. We'd like to request a reset date to prepare our defense." You immediately follow up as you also stand up.

"Your honor, my client has been incarcerated for over twenty-five days for a charge that has flimsy evidence at best. He has a right to a speedy trial." Hiromi rebuttals.

"Enough. We'll have a trial today whether the state is ready to proceed or not." The judge decides. Wonderful.

The trial is as painful as you imagined it to be. The evidence is flimsy, and Hiromi is practically bullying the witnesses on the stand, and when it's your turn for redirect, he practically bullies you with objection after objection.

"And what did the police-"

"Objection hearsay." Hiromi stands from his chair and eyes you with that cold stare of his.

"Your honor, I haven't even finished my question without the defense counsel butting in." You argue to the judge.

"Overruled. Counsel, let her finish." The judge warns.

Your head is practically throbbing by the end of it. The jury deliberates for two hours before coming back with the sentence. You tried your hardest and made good work with what evidence you had.

"On the charge of first-degree murder, we the jury find the defendant... not guilty."

Dammit. Hiromi won once again.

"On the charge of abuse of a corpse, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of tampering with physical evidence, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of arson, we the jury find the defendant... guilty."

He didn't win.

"On these charges, I will impose a sentence of twenty-five years in the Fuchu Prison with the possibility of parole after ten years." The judge sentences before whacking his gavel down.

You let out an exhausting sigh as you slowly gather your things after court adjourns. Today was likely the hardest day in your career, and you can't help but think about that young nineteen-year-old who won't see freedom until he's twenty-nine.

Hiromi approaches you after the courtroom is completely empty.

"You seem tired, dove." He muses as he loosens his tie from around his neck. He'd never admit it, but you absolutely gave him a run for his money.

"It's not everyday someone gives me that much trouble in court." You softly laugh as you look up at him. You feel your cheeks warm as you realize how close he is to you.

"Yeah? Did it bring back old memories?" He steps closer as his hand slowly reaches up to cup your cheek.

"Hm? Of me winning our mock trials?" You ask with a cheeky grin, and his grip tightens a bit.

"I distinctly remember our record being 15-13 with me having 15 wins." He replies as he leans down to you. He remembers the score you two kept from back in law school?

"You must be still sore about me outscoring you on the bar if you kept up with our scores from mock trials."

"Mmm, quite the contrary actually, you've always been my favorite opponent, even if you piss me off." He replies as he leans down towards you and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss was full of everything you could ever imagine: heat, lust, a hint of resentment towards each other. Before you know it, you're pressed against the table as Hiromi's hands roam your body like he's in a frenzy.

"Hiro.." You moan as he kisses down your neck roughly biting on your flesh. "My office.." You whine, trying to get him to ease up on you just long enough so you two could get out of the courtroom.

"And if I say no, little dove?" He whispers in your ear as his hand slips underneath your dress with such ease. "You'd let me take you right here, wouldn't you?"

"Hiro~" You whine in a breathy tone as his fingers trace around your clit like they did so long ago.

"That's not an answer, little dove." He demands as he applies more pressure. "I asked if you'd let me fuck you on this bar until you forgot your own name."

"Yes-!" You gasp as his fingers skillfully play with your most sensitive area.

"That's what i figured. You were always such a slut back then too. Somethings never change, hm?" He muses as he goes back to sucking and kissing on your neck. His fingers tease near your entrance, but they slowly trail back up to your clit.

"You're lucky I respect you enough." He growls lowly before he removes his hand. "Lead the way to your office."

As soon as you two are behind closed doors in your modest office, clothes are being thrown onto the floor, moans and small whispers of sweet nothings were exchanged. You could quite literally feel your heartbeat fluttering deep inside your cunt.

He gently nudges you to lay down on the leather couch you had in your office for the late nights you spent reviewing evidence. Your skin connects with the soft leather as he gets between your legs. "I wonder if you still taste the same, little dove."

His tongue gently laps at you, and he immediately hums with satisfaction. "Somehow sweeter, actually." He answers his own question as flattens his tongue and licks you from entrance to clit, savoring your fluids of arousal on his tongue.

Your hands find his hair, and you gently tug on it as he helps himself to your wetness. He takes his time, lapping at you slowly while gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. Sometimes you swear he's spelling his name into your cunt with his tongue before he shoves his tongue directly inside you, drinking your nectar straight from the source.

"H-hiro~!" You whimper as you try to shuffle your hips away. The stimulation was too much to handle.

"Don't try to run from me, little dove." He grunts as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you right back down onto his mouth.

His nose bumps into your clit as you subconsciously ride his face, searching for release. "Yeeahh, there we gooo. There's my little dove.. bein' such a slut." He coos as he buries his face deeper into your core.

His entire face is damp from your delicious juices. He's such a messy eater, getting it all over his chin and nose. His tired eyes flutter up to look at you as you're on the crux of your orgasm.

"Cum on my face, little dove. Let me have you." He instructs before lapping at your cunt like a starved man.

Your voice goes high pitched and breathy as you grab onto his hair tightly, forcing him in even more before you finish all over his mouth. He gratefully continues to run his tongue along your folds until your legs are trembling on his shoulders.

You softly pant as you relax into the couch. You hadn't had an orgasm like that in so long. You had almost forgotten how they feel.

Hiromi looks up at you with a confident smirk and an intoxicated gaze. "Seems like you missed me, little dove."

"Please, I only missed when you're too preoccupied to run your mouth." You retort with a grin.

"Is that so?" He questions as he pulls down his boxers, and his length springs up from the constraints of the fabric. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you're reminded of how big he is.

As if on muscle memory, you turn to get in doggy position because that was his and your position of choice back in college, but he grabs your thighs and prevents you from moving.

"Nuh uh. You're gonna look at me when I take you this time." He grins as he positions himself between your thighs. He fists his length a few times before slowly dragging his fat tip up and down your sopping wet folds, savoring the feeling with a small groan. "I wanna see the tears in your pretty eyes, little dove."

You're about to argue and protest about the tears part, but he's quick to shut you up by forcing his length into you all at once. Hiromi's not only long, but he's very girthy, stretching you so deliciously. White hot pain courses through you as your nails dig into the couch.

"Ah-! F-fuck!" You curse as you try to get use to his size.

"Mmm~ you're tight, dove. How long has it been for you, hm? Surely you've fucked someone since college, unless you've been hopelessly waiting for me." He grins as his hips are slow. He allows you the space to almost get use to him before he shoves into you aggressively, making you see stars.

"Ngh... p-probably like.. uh.. oh god, six months?" You answer as you stutter over your words. Your last hookup had ghosted you after you slept with him. Though, it didn't really bother you. He wasn't good in bed at all, and he called you crazy for asking him to be mean to you during the deed.

Hiromi simply smirks down at you, proud of himself for how fast he can make you a mess underneath him.

"Oh, you poor thing... hah.. No one can take care of this pussy like I can, hm?" He taunts as his hands grab ahold of your hips. His eyes are fixated on where you two are connects. He loves watching his length sink inside you.

Your warm wet entrance only serves to suck him in further, causing him to groan and continue his deep, ruthless pacing.

"N-no..." You're not even able to deny it to him and play hard to get. No one comes close to making you feel as good as he does.

His hips snap forward harshly, fucking you deeper into the black leather of the couch beneath you. Your entire body jolts with each rough thrust.

"Only I'm good for you, isn't that right little dove? You're mine, aren't you?" He asks as his hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, gently applying pressure. His eyes are now staring deeply into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Fuck, Hiro.." You whine, unable to commit to saying you're his. He applies a bit more pressure with his thumb and fingertips.

"I asked you a question." He grits as he slams back into you at a dizzying rate. "Are you mine?"

"Oh~ fuck.. I-" You can barely get a word out as he's ruthlessly abusing your little cunt. This was the roughness you had begged all those other guys for. "Yes-! God, fuck, yes." You cry as you feel your stomach clenching with the burning passion of another orgasm.

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret because you're mine now, dove." He mumbles lowly as he leans closer towards you. His hips keep up with his rhythm as his face is close to your ear. "That guy you sent to prison today was innocent of all counts."

Your hands reach up and hold onto his back muscles as he's rutting deep inside of you, reaching new places with his new position.

"What-? Hiro... I don't.."

"You sent an innocent man to prison, little dove. Doesn't that bother you? You're sick just like me." He continues on, making you feel all confused.

"How... ah~ how do you know he's innocent?" You ask as your eyebrows furrow. Your hands search his back, and your legs wrap around him as if you're hugging him.

"Because I did it." He growls into your ear. "That pathetic excuse for a man wasn't good enough for you, LD."

Chills immediately shoot through your body from him calling you by those damn initials. LD. You cling to him for a moment, unsure of what to even feel or say. His hips continue to rut inside of you.

"What's the matter, little dove?"

LD. Little dove. You squeeze your eyes shut as you finally piece everything together. Your last hookup didn't disappear. Your stalker, Hiromi, took care of him just like he promised he would.

For some sick reason, your stomach continues to clench as he's rocking back and forth. Your eyes meet his.

"Hiro... that's so.." You can't get the words out before you're finishing all over his cock with a high-pitched squeal.

Hiromi grins wildly as he watches you come undone from your orgasm. "My little dove is just as sick as I am, isn't she?" He coos before he leans back up.

His hips starts to drill into you mercilessly, not giving you a chance to catch your breath or even think. "Oh, fuck!" He curses as he's chasing his high deep inside you. “Mmnph~ gonna cum inside you and really make you mine.” He coos as his hips start moving sloppily.

You know it’s so wrong and taboo, but you couldn’t help but feel your arousal start building again. He just confessed to you about a serious crime, yet your pussy was still soaked, making the most delicious plap! plap! plap! noises as he pounded into you.

“Fuuuuck~” He groans as you feel his thick length twitching inside of you as he spills deep into your womb.

For a moment, you’re completely speechless. Hiromi softly pants as he presses small kisses into your collarbones. “‘m sorry. I had to do it, dove. I couldn’t let him get close to you.” He murmurs quietly. “Only I get to hear your sweet sounds. No one knows you better than me.”

Taking a deep breath, you realize that if this ever gets brought to light, you and Hiromi are going down for life. You gently nuzzle your face into his neck. “Hiro, you’re insane.”

“I know that, I do.” His voice is so sweet, cooing to you. “But we can get away with it, even if we’re miraculously caught.” He presses a sweet kiss to your temple.

Well, a year later, and the two renowned lawyers are married. At least you didn’t marry someone with a criminal record ;)

[roturo]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི minor pregnancy and daddy kink. breeding. sasuke being kinda mean :p ﾉ wc ꒱ 1.1k ﾉ 18+

“noisy woman .”

he’s grumbling and muttering under his breath in annoyance. other than the meeting of sweat-slicken skin, there’s your pitiful cries that make his cock twitch regrettably. you’re pretty — far too cute of a shinobi even at your sloppiest.

a sibilant sound gets wrangled from his mouth at the subtle squeeze of your wet cunt, disrupting the steady momentum of his hips.

“shit.”

sasuke breathes out huffs of hot air, goosebumps rising on your heated skin. your mind is hazy, full of the thought of his thighs pressing stickily against your ass.

his strong hands plant themselves behind your knees, pushing them on either sides of your head.

“hnn— sasukeeeeeee.”

your eyes cross and your vision blurs. the sight sends blood straight to his throbbing sac, throwing the shinobi off. he staggers, causing his to cock slip out of your wet cunt and you cry at the emptiness. 

“n-nooo.”

your sharp pink nails dig into his skin, desperate to feel more of him.

he sucks his teeth. “would you calm down ?”

he pulls your hand away, and you let it fall against your forehead. your chest raises in anticipation, sweat dripping down the slopes of your breasts. he lines his fat head with your pussy, but god, your folds . . . they’re thick and fat, covering the very hole that he needs to bury himself in.

a trail of spit splats against your center. he couldn’t help it. your pussy is already doused in his cream and your sparkly arousal, but watching the spit drip down your opening ignited a fire in him.

sasuke’s left thumb pulls your lips apart, and his other hand firmly grips his cock. he rubs his heated member against your center before promptly sheathing himself inside.

“ s-sasukeee, y’r gnna hnnh—break me !”

he groans, doubling over from the intrusion.

“shut it.”

it feels like hours has passed the way he’s been mounting you. his cock is digging out your insides, his body caging you against the bed when his spend shoots out, but he’s not done — far from it.

“m’sorry . . . but you’re so big.”

and you’re fucking cute.

you were carefully done up so prettily. ribbons woven in your pigtails, konoha headband around the cinch of your waist, but those were long gone. one pigtail loosened, your makeup smeared, and clothes exposing your tits and cunt.

sasuke isn’t one to fawn over things like looks, he’s much more practical than that, but your beauty itself is a weapon. if he wasn’t careful, you’d puncture him.

you admire his lithe build, and it amazes you that despite being so slender, his cock was able to stretch your cunt until it burned. he re-adjusts the hand behind your knee. the other grabs the side of your ass, lifting you up and down his fat cock.

his strength still takes you aback. the thrusts were too much. your pussy was thoroughly ruined. you slowly begin to use your elbows to clamor away from the uchiha, but he grabs you tighter.

“don’t run from it.”

he’s never particularly talkative. only when he gets competitive and even then, he’d rather let his actions speak for themselves. but now, he can’t stop himself from provoking you. you were easy to rile up.

his hands on your hips slide down to grip the softness of your ass again to tug you back on his cock. your pussy makes an audible squelch when it collides against the base of his pelvis.

“what happened to all that talk earlier, hm ?” he eyes your lewd body, and god , maybe he can understand why jiraiya started waxing poetics about pretty girls.

pretty girls with pretty mouths and pretty holes to breed. he tugs at a puffy nipple, eager to put it in his mouth.

“‘I'm a big girl I can take it.’ that’s what you said, right? so show me. show me how big girls take it.”

you sniffle at the snark in his tone and condescension, but the trail of his warm tongue tracing the lines of your neck softens you.

“y’r mean sasuke.”

“and you’re a brat.”

he kisses you square on the lips, stuffing his tongue in your mouth. his thumb twirls around your clit, drawing precise patterns.

“am I still mean?”

you mewl from the redundant stroke on your achy bud .

“ a buh-big fat meanie.”

he gives one of his charming smirks that borders on a sly smile.

“but you like it. . . and you love me, which is why you said you help me, right ?”

he grabs his cock by the thickest part to pull out. he wipes his meaty tip on your sloppy mound before forcing himself back in. your walls squeeze around his girth, desperate to be full once more.

“'said you’d help me restore my clan.”

his palms pressed down on your belly, right where his cock reached. he’s stimulating all your sensitive spots, and you can barely put words together.

“god — you-you’re so . .”

he spanks your cunt and a pathetic stream of arousal escapes audibly.

he chuckles. “noisy mouth and an even noisier pussy . how cute.”

your knees want to close and push him away from you, but he doesn’t move . like an animal, he keeps you pinned down, and like prey, you can't break free from his grasp. only instead of sinking his claws into you, he sinks his cock deeper, pressing up against your womb.

“squeezing me so tightly. you must want it so bad.” he’s flushed against you, resting all his weight to keep you in place.

“want me to make you a uchiha ? my little wife ?"

“hiccup—p-please.”

“please what ?”

you whine, “make me yours.”

your legs connect at hips, pushing him further into you. he grunts, “so shameless . . . a filthy woman.”

you’re embarrassed. tears wells up in your eyes, and you look at him with adoration, even as he talks so recklessly.

“keep staring at me like that. m’ gonna breed this fat cunt all night.”

he gives you another messy kiss and there’s a surge of happiness when he matches your eagerness. he poured everything into it, tongue lapping at your lips and swallowing your precious moans.

“wan’ to make you a daddy , sasuke,” you whisper.

and he nearly bottoms out. “f-fuck.”

you reach down to grab your breast that jumps with every thrust, pulling on a pert nipple.

“gonna fuck you until my seed takes. until your tits get fat with milk.”

sasuke's on the brink of a rush . though he pursued a life of darkness and revenge, he buried that angst long ago. still, he never thought he’d live to think about things like women and starting families of his own, and now he was here making it a reality.

his mind is plagued with the images of children, a fruitful clan and the swell of your stomach.

he delivers more plunges, fat balls slapping against your seam until they throb. he expels with a sudden start, releasing inside you for the umpteenth that night.

he presses you flushed against him, determined to have nothing escape, not even a drop. he wanted to be sure that you’d be true to your word. you’d be his little wife, free to use and knock up.

sasuke rubs your belly, eyes gleaming red from the numbing intensity. he takes greedy gulps of air watching as you’re stricken with complete lust.

his name falls from your lips like a spell and there’s the familiar burn of desire swirling in his abdomen.

“one more time.”

[roturo]

yall hear me out, THIS with ford pines, should I?