ryukatters

[ryukatters]

miss u bae

Miss u too 😿 I hope everything is well

[ryukatters]

KAT?!?!?!

CHER

[ryukatters]

|| moon river. || part. xiii. ||

|| masterpost || part xii. || part xiv. || ao3 ||

“Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." David Foster Wallace. pairing: Levi x fem bodied reader chapter content: modern au, coworkers au, suggestive themes, SMUT (we're having vanilla loving intercourse okay), unfaithfulness themes (there is no cheating!), alcohol/drinking, fluff paired with heavy angst, cliffhanger warning, self deprecating thoughts, Levi's sad sad past, reader's respective past, the kids are Fighting, description of a panic/anxiety attack, mentions of previous death and related traumas, terminal illness mention, this chapter is equally cute as it is dark man, jealousy, did not beta this one we are dying like men, minors/ageless blog do not interact. summary: in which levi gets a little jealous. wc: 11.7k a/n: there will be no warning, only chapter appearing on your dash. after two and a half years, I am back writing this story. thank you, YOU I AM TALKING DIRECTLY TO YOU, for sticking around so patiently for this update. I love this story with my entire heart and soul. thank you for loving it as much as I do. I hope you enjoy.

“Have you ever thought about where you’ll be in five years?”

The question catches you off guard, shattering the comfortable silence hanging in perfect fragility of the moment. The sun is scorching hot, and you’re absolutely positive the intense rays are leaving burns on your exposed body. The sky is cloudless, the sand beneath you is baking in the heat, you find absolutely no relief in your lounging form, or solace in the dampened towel under the backs of your legs. There’s a breeze, not strong enough to bring forth a chill, but just enough of one to dance and tickle its way through your ears. 

As soon as Mikasa is done with this conversation, you’re sprinting full speed into the lake directly in front of you. You feel as though you’re laying in fire sunbathing on this beach.

“Not really,” You say nonchalantly. “You?”

“Yeah. I think about it all the time, actually.” Her gaze is transfixed straight ahead towards the gentle waves caressing the shoreline, leaning so comfortably back in her beach chair.

“Where do you think you’ll be?” You redirect her question.

Your sight is hinged in deep oranges, a side effect of the sunglasses perched over your eyes, but it doesn’t obstruct the view of Mikasa’s gentle smile as she responds, “Here. Owning a big house, being a doctor, maybe I’ll be married or something.”

“Definitely married,” You chuckle. “You’re already getting proposals.”

“Jean asking me out on a date is not a proposal,” She crosses her arms. 

“You should go out with him, he seems nice!”

“He blushes every single time he sees me. It’s embarrassing.”

“I think it’s sweet!”

“I don’t.”

The two of you share a look and erupt into laughter. You shake your head, “Fine, fine. Who are you getting hitched to in your dream future?”

“Well, Eren and I have been close almost our entire lives,” Mikasa muses cautiously.

“Eren is a full blown idiot.”

“He’s cute,” She defends. 

“Mika,” Your tone deepens. “He’s not worth your time or energy.”

“Yeah well, he was worth yours, wasn’t he?”

The sour expression painted across her face is painful enough to look at, but accompanied by the venom on her tongue, the hurt you feel is comparable to being stabbed in the chest. Your heart tightens at the internal pain.

Eren is just your friend these days. He is nothing more and nothing less.

“I’m sorry,” Mikasa sighs. “I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not, but you tell her this anyway. 

“I’ve just always liked him, you know? Even if he doesn’t feel the same, I can’t help it. I just do.”

You nod, “I get it. I just think you deserve someone who’s head over heels for you.”

“Yeah, well, he is for you isn’t he?” She digs her toes in the hot sand and allows your silence to settle the topic. She fills the air, “So anyways, five years, where are you?”

Your eyes float away towards the glimmering water before you. It’s nearly blinding, the way the rays bounce off the waves in full opacity. The lake almost looks black in color beneath the sparkles. 

“In five years,” You start slowly. “I really don’t know. Probably here, just like you.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“So then you know what you want.” 

“I want to be somewhere new,” Your lips lift into a sad smile. “Meeting new people, exploring the world, all that sappy stuff. Maybe I’ll be able to do it with my degree, that’d be really cool.”

“It would be,” She nods. “Then I could travel with you to all those places, visit you wherever you settle down. Maybe we could be pen pals.”

You close your eyes. Mikasa has no idea. “Pen pals, that’d be cute.”

“You’ll have an art gallery in every major city,” She continues excitedly. “Critics will be raving about you. I can see it now.”

“Not even the best artists get those kinds of reviews.”

“You will though. I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll miss you,” You try your best to disguise your growing tears as a chuckle, as choked up as it may sound. 

“We’ll talk every day,” She states. “You won’t miss me that much. It’ll be like I’m right there with you, wherever you are.”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore, I’m getting emotional just thinking about it.” Because this isn’t a five year plan, you’re leaving soon and she has no idea.

“Okay, fine,” Mikasa shakes her head, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Only because I don’t want to get emotional either. Just know you have my full support.”

“And I just want you to know,” You take a deep, staggering breath. “That I really love you, Mika. I always will.”

She slaps her palm against your bare bicep, “I just said I don’t want to cry! Stop it!”

You laugh, “Okay! Okay! I just had to tell you!” In case you never get the opportunity to again.

“And I just have to tell you right now, whoever is the last one in that water, has to be the one to go on that date with Jean.” 

She bolts out of her chair with a ferocity comparable to a lightning strike. Your jaw drops and you scramble to your feet, screaming after her, “That’s not fair! I don’t even like Jean!”

Mikasa is already at the bank of the lake when you finish shouting, bare feet colliding with the tender waves that melt on the shore.

-

You’re awake, yet the memory continues to play behind your closed eyelids. That day spent at the lake was one of your last moments with your beloved friend, and it’s not a day you often like to dwell on. It’s too painful to remember. How completely unaware Mikasa had been of your plans, yet so in tuned to you, like she had known all along. 

How strange that you think of her now, of that specific memory. You mull it over for a brief second, remembering how freezing cold the water was beating against your knees, how soft the sand was under your toes. Mikasa’s face is the only detail that seems blurry, and you realize it’s fading. It’s been well over a year since that day. You don’t know how to feel about that.

A fingertip tracing your spine jolts your body forward, a quiet gasp releasing from your lips. You hear a thick chuckle behind you, “Sorry, did I scare you?”

You turn over onto your back, Levi’s straying finger blossoming into a full palm on your stomach, and you hum, “Maybe.”

Levi smiles in response, eyes heavy and drooping, “Too bad.”

Entirely distracted now from your previous thoughts, you shimmy closer to Levi’s bare chest, nestling your head in the crook of his neck. “You’ve got a lot of attitude going on right now, not sure if I like it.”

“Is this a complaint?”

“Formally, no. Just a critique.”

“Hm. I don’t accept those.”

“Critiques?”

“Complaints,” he corrects. 

You nip at the skin of his shoulder, “What would you call this exchange then?”

Levi grasps your chin, angling your face towards his, “A disagreement.”

“And how do you plan on addressing this problem?”

“Like this.”

His lips are swollen from sleep, and so entrancingly soft as his head dips down to meet yours. He kisses you slowly, his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth, swiping sneakily past the barrier to prod at your bottom lip. You melt, bidding a goodbye to your sarcasm to fall under Levi’s spell.

“What are you doing today?” He murmurs against your mouth.

“Working,” You respond, trying to recapture his kiss. 

He leans away playfully, “What a coincidence, me too.”

“Levi,” You pout. “Stop teasing.”

“Teasing? Me?” His wrist rises, thumb grazing the underside of your chin. He gently sucks in a puff of air, your focus darting to the sliver of tongue that appears when his mouth parts. “I’m just trying to talk to you, jolie fille.”

(Pretty girl.)

“Talk to me later,” You mumble, leaning in closer. “This is a priorité.”

(Priority.)

“Look at you,” Levi chuckles. “En utilisant vos mots, une fille si intelligente.”

(Using your words, such a smart girl.)

You roll your eyes, unknowing and uncaring to what he even said, and press your lips to his once more. Levi succumbs valiantly, you think, his hand trailing down to caress your neck, keeping you trapped in your embrace.

Would it be too much to tell him you loved him again? You’re tempted, and it would be so easy — pulling away when the troublesome need to breathe surfaced, the skin of your mouth still entangled with his, so softly brushing against one another as you speak those words, “I love you, Levi” — no, it’s too much. Too soon. 

You don’t regret telling him so rashly last night, entirely lost in the throes of heat and pleasure and passion. You do wish you had made the sentiment more meaningful though. 

You’ll have plenty more opportunities to do just that, you think. To tell him you love him. 

“So soft,” Levi purrs, delicately sucking your bottom lip. “Maybe you were right. We can talk later.”

A whine gets trapped behind your teeth when his fingers tighten around your throat, squeezing lazily. Fire ignites in your sleepy body, your eyelids fluttering and breathing shallow. It’s ridiculous how much of an effect Levi has on you. Although, you suppose that must be love. Or at the very least, lust, and that is an emotion you are not hesitant to express.

Something changes when he locks his eyes to yours, his hand beginning its descent down your goosebump ridden skin. He halts his motions, a look of worry painting his expression. Your eyebrows furrow, a look of confusion on yours.

“Maybe we should talk,” Levi says after a moment of silence. “About last night.”

That fire flooding your veins turns into frigid ice. The juxtaposition of temperature kills any of the previous budding desire in your core, and in an attempt to recapture it, you shake your head. There’s no need to talk about anything.

Levi presses his hands to the tops of your shoulders, immobilizing you from chasing after his kiss again, “We need to talk about what happened.”

“I told you already, last night,” You resign. “I called a friend from home. She didn’t answer.”

He sighs your name, “Have you talked to her since you left?”

It’d be a lot easier to lie if Levi wasn’t looking at you so intently, so full of care and worry. You tell the truth, “No. I haven’t talked to anyone. Kind of ruins the mystery of running away from home.”

He skips past your poor excuse of a joke, “That’s why you were crying then.”

“Yeah.” You close your eyes.

“You miss her.” Not posed as a question, just a simple observation.

“Of course.”

“Maybe she’ll call back,” He murmurs, and when you open your lids and peer at his face, his expression is vacant. 

“I called her to talk about you,” You say slowly. “I wanted to tell her about us.”

Levi blows a humored breath out of his nose, “How cute.”

“It was mostly to brag. You’re really hot and we have incredible sex.”

That elicits a change in his features, the playfulness returning into his eyes, “How modest of you.”

“What can I say? I am nothing but humble.” 

“If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

“You wouldn’t describe me as such? Ouch.”

“There’s a lot of words to describe you, but modest and humble aren’t at the top of my list.”

“Of course, how could they when the list starts at beautiful, intelligent, hilarious, captivating—“

“Just do me a favor,” Levi turns serious one final time, laying his forehead against yours. “If you need to cry, don’t run away. I can handle a few tears.”

You soften, “What if there’s a lot of them? What if I have snot all over my face and I cry really ugly?”

“Anything, I can handle it. Just don’t run away from me, okay?” 

There’s something swirling in his silver eyes, something you can’t place. Fear, maybe.

“Okay,” You breathe.

“Okay,” He says. His thumb swipes across your jaw, grazing the shell of your ear. “Your breath stinks, by the way.”

You roll your eyes, pulling away from his embrace, “So does yours, asshole. C’mon, let’s go get ready for the day.”

-

You’ve worked an uncountable amount of shifts beside Levi, but tonight feels much different than any previous times. Maybe it’s due to the fact that his eyes never leave you once — truthfully, they never have, as Levi was always expecting you to fuck up crafting a drink, or to trip and fall and break something, including yourself. Or maybe it’s because he’s being incredibly bold tonight, trailing his fingers along your back as he brushes behind you, leaning in extra close to your face when you speak to him about a customer’s drink order.

But it’s probably different because of the undeniable fact you are in love with him and you are the one unable to keep your gaze off of Levi. You aren’t a master of subtlety, that much you can admit, but you feel that you’re making your yearning extra obvious tonight. 

It’s not exactly a secret you and Levi are fucking each other anymore anyways. Hange and Petra know, even Claude, who sits smugly at his usual stool, fifty dollars richer than he was before all thanks to his winning bet.

You still need to find out what this bet was exactly. It’s eating away at you in the same way you’d be unable to remember if you left the faucet running at home. Stuck lingering in the back of your mind, it’s a nuisance of a thought. 

Levi has this stupid, and probably right, idea that you two need to be professional at work. What a joke, since he nearly fucked you raw in Hange’s office a few weeks ago. Now he wants to play the perfect angel, all sweet and compliant? 

Realistically, if this kind of relationship between boss and employee had happened in any other job setting, you’d both be sitting in some office, tails between your legs while you recounted your indiscretions to a Human Resources representative. However, in your special case, said representative caught you red handed and spread open on their desk and laughed in your face.

So you feel entitled to the opinion Levi is going for overkill with the elusive displays of affection. Sure, when he dipped closer to your face to understand your speech you did try to pucker your lips and kiss him. Yeah, it’s understandable he pulled away, a customer standing directly in front of you. But who cares? Everyone already knows anyway. 

You pause in the middle of your thought process, uncorking a bottle of wine. What do they know exactly? Do they think of the two of you as a fling, or something more serious? What is the definition of you and Levi anyways? Is the naming of a title something that concerns you now? What do they think? What does Levi think? What do you think?

You flicker a glance to the ravenette, speaking loudly to a patron. It wouldn’t be so bad to be his girlfriend, you think. Girlfriend feels so childish though, but friend doesn’t seem serious enough. Fuck-buddy is off the table with the L-bomb being dropped. Partner would imply years of history. Any other title requires a formality both you and Levi are definitely not ready for. 

So where does this leave you? Why do you suddenly care so much about what the two of you are, and what others may think?

Maybe, you ponder, you feel this way because no one has been solely yours before. Any romantic conquests in your past have been defined by noncommittal ambiguity, a do not ask and do not talk about policy. You have never truly claimed a lover, not in the permanent sense. 

You think of Eren, of all the awkward fumblings and inquisitive explorations, the lack of feelings and passion. You ponder what it meant to be a young girl discovering her sexuality and romantic feelings, and finding nothing of substance at the time. Sure, Eren was fun, but what did it mean?

It meant that you knew what love would really feel like when it finally rolled around, you decide. Not that you didn’t hold love for your friend, but it wasn’t – Levi. Levi, who urges you to self-reflect and dissect your past to build a solid foundation for your — well, whatever this is. 

Truth be told, you’ve never really done this before. Taking a look in the mirror is uncomfortable. But Levi deserves someone capable of humility. You wouldn’t call yourself shallow, but neither would you declare yourself deep. Maybe it is time to change that.

Not just for him, but because you deserve it too.

You smile softly upon the epiphany. Maybe you’ve been treating yourself so unkindly for all this time because you never really believed you were deserving of this kind of love. Maybe that’s why you have your track record of escapes. Maybe this is why you’re choosing to stay. 

Your fingers gently brush against Levi’s back as you glide behind him. A tall glass of wine leaves your opposing palm, passing it off to a patron. You wear that silly smile with pride and continue on with your shift, heart warm and mind distracted by wickedly sweet love.

The end of your shift arrives surprisingly fast. The bar was fairly busy tonight and thankfully easy to manage. Though the feeling of confidence has settled in for a few weeks now, you’re at a place where you can boldly declare that you are now excelling at your job. You have regulars, specifically requesting you to make their cocktails. It feels good. It feels rewarding to see your hard work and perseverance pay off. 

“Hey! Did Levi tell you yet?”

You glance up from your side work, rinsing soapy glasses. Hange leans against the bar counter, elbows sliding across disinfectant Levi had just sprayed. 

“Tell me what?”

“Good for nothing,” Hange laughs under their breath. “I’m hosting a dinner party tomorrow night! Nothing fancy, but fancy-ish.”

“What’s the occasion?” You ask.

“Moblit’s birthday!” They grin. “No need for gifts either, I have everything handled.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, frown sliding from the corners of your mouth. “I feel weird walking in empty-handed.”

“I’m sure,” Hange winks. “Your presence is gift enough. Although, if a bottle goes missing from the bar, I won’t say anything.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Of course I’ll be there!”

Hange throws a thumbs up, speaking loudly over your head, “Levi! Bring your camera!”

He grunts, nodding without glancing over. Hange disappears shortly after, and the night dwindles on. Uneventful and quickly, your shift wraps up. 

Per routine, Levi walks you home after locking up. He holds your hand, making casual conversation about nothing in particular. You smile and nod along to his words, though you mostly stare at where your fingers interlock with his.

It’s sweet, being like this with him. It’s heartwarming to be invited to parties together hosted by your mutual friend. Whatever title you two hold doesn’t seem so important when you’re in this moment, so viciously present and insurmountably happy.

Stationed in the sanctity of your bedroom, Levi presses open mouthed kisses to the nape of your neck, fingers reaching lower and lower down your clothed belly. He whispers inaudible sweet nothings between his employed lips, tracing the peaks and valleys of your flesh. You shiver in anticipation, arching and mewling at the divine attention.

You find it justified that you’re picking up exactly where the two of you had left off this morning. Or rather, what you didn’t start.

In the process of, whatever you want to call it, you’ve discovered that your insatiable appetite for Levi reaches no limit. You crave him insistently. There is no way to quench your desire for him, in every and any form he exists in.

It is all consuming. Where you had feared love before, every fiber of your soul screams to pursue and to follow.

His hand dips below the waist of your jeans, palm cupping your covered heat. Levi grinds the heel against your cleft, an action all too teasing and mean to declare enjoyment over.

You need more. You will always need more from him.

In a frenzied haste, you spin to face him, ripping clothing from your body. His focus is violently direct, his eyes never leaving yours as Levi follows suit. Standing bare before one another, you lunge for his lips, kissing him so deeply and passionately you knock the breath from your lungs. He matches your vigor, carding his fingers through your hair and caressing the back of your neck.

It feels as though you two are the only living beings in the entire world. There is no one else who exists or matters.

Levi, Levi, Levi, you mentally repeat in a mantra. Love, love, love.

Your palms glide down his naked biceps, clutching and scraping at his tense muscles. You grip and mold, memorizing every curve and indent in his flesh. When your hands meet his wrists, you clutch desperately at the bones. 

He takes the touch as a plea. With a warm press of his open hand to the dip of your back, he leads you backwards until the inside of your knees rest against the mattress. You fold at the contact, laying down. Levi cascades over you in a seamless set of motions, never interrupting the meeting of your mouths. Your legs circle his waist, ankles hooking once they collide, and without a drop of elegance you lift your hips to slide against his. Your dripping center brushes against his throbbing member, your sexes so wet and hot from all of the anticipation.

“Want you,” You murmur against the plush of his lips. “Need you.”

Levi barely nods, too consumed in the sizzling connection. Your lashes part as he nips at your bottom lip, gazing at him with starry eyes as he pulls away. A whine ripples through your vocal chords at his departure, despite knowing the distance will be short lived. A smirk dances across his mouth, his eyes lidded and heavy as he takes in your form.

His head descends, his mouth parting in anticipation to greet your heat with salivating fever. Your hand darts up, tugging at his scalp to stop his movements. When his eyes lock to yours, confusion swirling in his silver irises, you shake your head. Silently, you answer him with another kiss, lifting your hips once more to rock yourself against his cock.

Levi understands, or so you assume. He reaches down, sliding an inquisitive fingertip through your folds. You whimper at the contact, so sensitive and so needy. With a curse under his breath, his palm circles around his swollen member, jerking languidly. Guiding the leaking head between your blossomed petals, he swirls your clit in a messy pattern. He lines himself to your entrance, pausing to gaze into your eyes.

He wants you too. He needs you too. It’s written all over his face.

Slowly, Levi pushes in. Your hole wraps around the head selfishly, walls contracting and pulling his shaft deeper. He hisses in pleasure, his pupils rolling behind his eyelids. His hips jerk as he is completely consumed by you. His cock twitches, pressing upwards at the soft spongy spot lurking in the depths of your cunt. You choke on a moan, lifting and rotating yourself to repeat the motion.

“I’m gonna’ cum if you keep doing that,” Levi says breathlessly. “Fuck, feels so good.”

“Don’t care,” You whine. “I need you, Levi.”

“So selfish,” He chuckles darkly. “Want it that bad, huh?”

You nod, gasping as his hips flick in a shallow thrust. His palms travel to the backs of your thighs, lifting your legs until your ankles dangle at his shoulder blades. The burn in your muscles feels so sinfully good, it renders you wordless. 

“All yours,” Levi says huskily. The gaze he holds contains such depth, a rich endearment swirled with pure carnal desire. 

He plunges. The pace he sets is sweet, each pull and thrust stroking at every nerve ending within your body. You grip at his arms tight, holding onto some semblance of grounding. Your mind is gone entirely, your voice a casualty to your surmounting pleasure. That familiar liquid fire begins to build, igniting your veins, teasing at feelings beyond your comprehension.

The bedframe shakes, creaking and groaning with Levi’s increasing pace. His mouth is positively filthy, hissing intelligible praises and curses. His expression maintains that desperate ferocity, his eyes raking up and down your flexed body. Your breasts sway with each movement, your torso pressed together so tightly you feel as if your lungs are in your throat. You’ve never been a contortionist, but in this position, you fear that you may gain the skills necessary for the job. The stretch of your muscles only echoes the pressure building in the pit of your belly, a numbing effect replacing any pain.

A hand leaves your thigh, trailing down the curve of your ass and the decline of your center. A fingertip trails the crease, a thumb presses to your aching clit. A swirl, gentle at first swipe. A delicious pressure applied. A breathless moan. A quickening speed.

You’re out of your right mind. Completely at Levi’s mercy, you gape up thoughtless and outright stare. You’re sure your expression conveys how absolutely fucked out you feel. 

Levi makes good on your neediness. His rolls are precise and aimed to deliver the mind-blowing euphoria your body begs for. It’s filthy, how well he knows your desires. How well he executes the actions required to bring you to climax. When one pattern on your clit grows weary and familiar, he swipes up and down, eliciting toe curling and bone shaking. 

This is a union intended only for pleasure. You want it fast, hard, and immediately. From the brutality he unleashes, Levi craves the same.

The heat in the bottom of your sternum rises, impossible to ignore. You’re close, and judging by his thrusts growing irregular, Levi is as well.

“Come on, pretty girl,” He begs. “Meet me there, I know you can.”

You cry out in response, panting at all the attention. His cock stretches against your tightening walls, brushing at the back of your cunt. His thumb works in tandem, amplifying the dizzying stimulation. Levi’s going to force it out of you. 

Your legs quiver, still positioned high, as you begin to approach absolution. It’s going to hit you hard, you know this. It’s all too much but exactly what you need. 

It all spills over in a matter of seconds. Before the words can even reach the back of your teeth, you’re shaking and shrieking breathlessly. Billow waves plummet over you, bright white casts your vision. You constrict and pulse around Levi, who gasps and moans alongside you. His dick throbs, twitching erratically as he meets his demise. A mix of fluids fill you entirely, the world pausing for the moments shared in complete bliss.

You cum so hard it is almost agonizing. Levi whines above you, shoving his face in the crook of your neck, gripping ferociously at whatever he can grasp. His thumb twitches but remains dutiful, stroking at your sensitive bud with increasing gentleness. The come down is hard. It feels never ending. He breathes deeply, huffing hot air against your skin.

When you finally begin to regain conscious thought, the stretch in your lower body becomes unbearable. You whimper, tired and exhausted from all the vigorous activity and uncomfortable flexing. Levi loosens his grip on your thigh, slowly bringing it down beside his torso. You cringe at the feeling, soreness settling in within your hips. The relief is almost immediate despite.

“Fuck,” You giggle, pressing a sweet kiss to Levi’s temple. “I fucking love you.”

He grunts in response, eliciting a more pronounced laughter from your gut. A lazy peck is placed upon your clavicle, and you understand it as a shared sentiment of emotion. He rolls over unceremoniously, flopping onto his back beside you. Reaching for your palm, he intertwines his fingers with yours. 

After a few moments of lounging in post sex euphoria, Levi searches for a towel to clean up all the mess left behind. He cleans you thoroughly despite the exhausted state, a content smile glued to his lips. 

Levi likes taking care of you, you’ve learned. As you settle into bed for some much needed rest, scratching loving patterns between his shoulder blades, you observe another simple fact.

You like taking care of him too.

You love him.

-

Hange’s house is almost exactly what you’d expect their house to look like and at the same time not what you’d envisioned at all. Which you feel is pretty on brand for your employer and friend — predictably unpredictable.

Stationed on a crowded suburban street on the outskirts of the city, the home seems extraordinarily normal, especially nestled in tightly with the neighboring exteriors. The houses line up directly side by side, roof heights varying and unique but still so distinctly antique and harmonious — if it wasn’t for Levi guiding you inside the intended dwelling, you could’ve walked up to any single one of these homes with the utmost confidence that this was Hange’s residence. 

The difference would’ve struck you immediately upon entering the wrong dwelling. Hange’s decorating is so irrefutably Hange’s that, well, it makes sense. The front door opens into a dining room, cluttered with deep brown furniture — there’s hardly any room to walk. 

There isn’t a single centimeter of wall that remains bare, dark maroon paint peaks through here and there in between photographs, years of memories being honored and celebrated in each frame. It sort of reminds you of Levi, minus the chaotic placement. You curiously peak at the ravenette as you glide through the entryway, watching his eye twitch at the sheer disorganization.

You stifle a laugh, but you become instantly distracted upon the mesmerizing sight of the beautiful line of house plants lounging against the front room window. Nestled in the corner, given just enough space to dance and bloom with the sun, the greenery stuns you. You think of Jeremy and his potential and you mirror Levi’s expression.

You clench your teeth. Hange’s plants, plural, three of them to be exact, entangle their limbs together, speckled leaves caressing one another so lovingly. As if they’re the greatest of friends, choosing to bloom and grow together without any complaint or hostility. 

Jeremy needs a friend, needs one yesterday. 

Through a narrow hallway leading away from the front room, Hange and Moblit emerge, but before they’re able to greet the three of you, a golden haired puppy comes barreling forward. His face squishes in between Moblit’s ankles comically, and the little one is off.

His paws are too big in comparison to his body, his legs uncoordinated, the puppy jets to Levi first. He yips excitedly, tail wagging, licking and biting at the tips of Levi’s shoes in greeting. 

You smirk, unable to hold back your chuckling this time, and bring yourself down to a crouch. Big brown eyes flicker towards you, and Levi becomes old news.

In your hands in an instant, paws on your chest to stare into the depths of your soul, you fall so deeply in love that you question if you’ve ever truly loved before this moment. 

You glance up at Levi, stars in your eyes and the beginnings of a plea on your lips. He glares back in response.

Well, there goes that idea of convincing him to get a dog. To be fair though, you’re underestimating your abilities. After all, you made it your life’s mission to befriend him, and despite the odds it worked out even better than what you had set out to do. So just maybe you could figure out a plan in which he ends up with a furry companion in his arms. 

With mandatory visitations and custody rights on your behalf, of course. Really, the dog would just live at Levi’s, but it’d be yours.

“No need for us to say hello then since Bean has that covered,” Moblit chuckles. “Thanks for coming guys.”

“Thanks for having us,” You beam. “Happy birthday Moblit!”

He grins shyly, bashfully thanking you. “Hange’s finishing up cooking now, please make yourselves at home!”

“By finishing up you mean the delivery driver is almost here?” Levi arches a brow.

You smack his arm playfully, “Levi!”

“Hey! I worked hard placing that order over the phone!” Hange shouts. “Do you know how hard it is to place an order that large?”

Moblit sheepishly chuckles, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “In our defense, they really did make a salad.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No judgement here.”

“I’m judging,” Levi breathes. 

You squint your eyes and raise your hand to land another blow. He relents his sarcasm.

“Anyways come on in, take your shoes off, get comfortable!” Hange says. “Drinks are in the kitchen! Help yourself!”

The couple lead you further into their home, the puppy at their heels. Bean is his name, if you remember correctly. His paws patter across the wooden floor, and your heart melts.

More plants and a dog. You’re going to look into this immediately.

Down the short hallway, the walls open up to a large living room. Dark emerald green couches take up the majority of the space, a large coffee table sitting in the center of the room. More pictures decorate the room, more notability family portraits of people you don’t recognize. Parents and cousins, you presume.

You inform Levi that you’re going to grab a drink from the kitchen. He nods, beginning to embark on a conversation about photography with Moblit.

You follow Hange’s directions to their kitchen, and nearly slam into something tall and hard once you pass through the door frame. A pair of muscular hands grasp your shoulders, preventing a disastrous fall.

“Nice to see you again too!” Erwin laughs, bright and cheerful. 

Heat rises to your cheeks, “I am so sorry! Wow, that’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you or anything did I?”

“Not at all!” His hands trail down your arms, releasing once they reach your elbows. “Could’ve been rough for you though. The floor isn’t very forgiving in this place.”

You laugh weakly, “I’ll find some other way to put myself in danger, I’m sure. How are you?”

Erwin smiles charmingly, “Busy. I have a client in the area that is entirely too demanding of my time. But they make phenomenal art, so I just have to deal with it I suppose.”

“Oh, what do you do?” You crane your neck to the left.

“I’m an art collector,” He says proudly. “Well, dealer, but primarily collector.”

“That’s amazing!” You say. “You must travel all over the place!”

“It’s exhausting,” He chuckles. “But extremely fulfilling. It’s a family business, so I inherited the job when my father retired. I never got the hang of creating any art myself, but admiring it is a skill in itself.”

You nod, “Absolutely.”

Feminine arms wrap around your midsection as your name is shouted into your ear, “Hey! Is Erwin talking your ear off?”

“I was only telling her about my deeply riveting and nuanced career,” Erwin smirks. 

“Boring,” Petra whispers. You conceal a giggle poorly. “I’d rather be the artist, like this wonderfully talented girl here.”

“Oh, stop it,” You say sheepishly. “I’m not a professional by any means.”

“Really? You’re an artist?” Erwin quirks a brow. “You know, you kind of have that look about you.”

“The self-depreciating, existential dread look?” 

“The look that you take in every detail,” He smiles. “You know, if you’re ever looking to be a “professional”, I’d love to see your work.”

“She would love that!” Petra shakes your shoulders gently. “Weren’t you just saying that you were thinking about taking classes again?”

You bite your lip. While you like your art and even consider your pieces to be adequate, this proposition seems far from your capabilities. Don’t professional artists have to be geniuses? You paint well, you know all about composition and color theory and what-not, but not like that.

Honestly, you don’t know what to quite make of this conversation, so you decide to play to humbleness, “I was, yeah. I don’t really finish pieces, so I couldn’t show off anything that I’ve done.”

“Ah, I see,” Erwin says. “In any case, I know a studio in the city that holds classes every other weekend. I frequent them myself, scouting out new clientele. I’d love to have you join me sometime. Say, next weekend?”

Is he – is he asking you out? Or are you secretly a narcissist, assuming Erwin, with his big blue eyes and exaggerated vowels, is hinting at anything other than platonic friendship? Maybe his work-life is slow, maybe he lacks the clientele he speaks of. Yeah, he probably is just searching for some unknown artistic genius to discover and make a stupid amount of money off of.

Maybe you’re just the fool to fall for it too. He speaks so earnestly, you doubt that he’s hitting on you. Besides, everyone knows you and Levi are together, right? Though, Erwin isn’t intimately involved in your friend group. Still, you never followed up with meeting with him when Hange initially suggested the idea. Didn’t he get the hint?

Besides, is a career as a painter something you truly want?

“She doesn’t need classes. She should be teaching them, actually,” The familiar grit and gravel of Levi’s voice cuts through the anticipation of your response. Petra takes a step back and Levi fills the empty space she leaves, a tight fist circling your waist. He grips you, almost possessively, as he continues, “Petra is right. She is talented.”

Erwin’s eyes lock on Levi’s embrace, a taut smile growing across his expression. “Levi, wonderful to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Levi replies dryly. 

A pregnant pause ensues, tension thick enough to slice through. You flicker your focus between the two men. Erwin’s stature noticeably stiffens, his shoulders squared back and jaw flexed. It’s like he’s fighting for politeness. Levi – you crane your neck – looks as if he is about to launch himself toward the blonde. A storm rages behind his narrowed eyes, a frown deeply embedded in his mouth.

This is a bit ridiculous, in your humble opinion. 

Petra must pick up on the brewing hostility, as she timidly breaks the ice, “Weren’t we grabbing drinks?”

“Yeah!” You speak just a bit too quickly, too high-pitched. “I totally forgot!”

“That was my fault,” Erwin relaxes just a fraction. “I completely interrupted you when you bumped into me. Good thing I caught you before you fell, at least.”

“Yeah, good thing,” You reply awkwardly.

Without further conversation, Erwin walks off in the direction of Moblit and Hange, throwing a cold glare at Levi. Levi’s eyes trail his retreating form, brows knitted together. 

Levi momentarily distracted, you mouth a “what the fuck” to Petra, only answering you with a shrug of confusion. 

Opting to press forward and forget the weird encounter, you follow the strawberry blonde into the kitchen. Levi follows suit, noticeably less tense. Petra pours the three of you a cup of pink looking liquid. The house drink, she remarks casually, probably something with vodka as it is Moblit’s poison of choice. You take a tentative sip, pleased with the taste, and enthrall yourself into light hearted conversation with your best friend.

Petra catches you up to speed with the on-goings in her life. The trials and tribulations of online dating, how work has sucked since the two of you haven’t shared a shift together in a couple of weeks, and how bothersome it is to own and drive a car in the city. You listen excitedly while Levi zones out. You spare a few glances in his direction, growing more and more worried about his quietness.

“I think they’re about to sing happy birthday!” Petra interrupts herself in the middle of a rant, leaning over your shoulder to gaze into the living room. “Looks like everybody is here now!”

You turn to see a sea full of people, only recognizing the hosts and Erwin. Everyone else is a stranger, and you laugh under your breath. Here you thought you were special, being Hange’s friend. Turns out, they have loads.

Makes sense, with their endearing personality and charming demeanor. 

Levi trails behind you as Petra guides you to the crowd, erupting into the song once a lighter flicks in Hange’s palm. A cake is held in front of a sheepish Moblit, blushing and grinning ear-to-ear. You clap when he blows out the candle, laughing when Hange swipes a bit of icing from the top and glides it across Moblit’s cheek. He shakes his head, staring after Hange so lovingly it makes your heart swell.

It’s picture perfect. You look over to Levi expectantly, waiting for the flash of his camera. An empty space stands where he should be, but a bright white light strikes from somewhere else in the room. He doesn’t rejoin you afterwards.

Petra resumes her rambling, introducing you to other attendees amongst her conversation. You smile politely, feeling a bit out of place without Levi by your side. You try to push down that worry that something may be wrong, that perhaps you did something wrong, but it eats away at you throughout the night. 

It isn’t until Erwin locks eyes with you from across the room that feeling of concern heightens. Nearing midnight, you haven’t seen your ravenette in nearly two hours. Did Levi think you were flirting with Erwin? Is he upset with you for simply talking to another man?

You’re becoming increasingly irritated by the idea. You love Levi, proclaimed it several times verbally and physically. You are as wrapped around his finger as one can possibly be. In fact, this is arguably the most time the two of you have spent apart in weeks. You have conquered your own fears and insecurities, reluctantly at the start maybe, but goddamn it. You did it. 

You try to imagine yourself in Levi’s shoes. What if you had been the one to catch him talking to another woman? Pondering the thought for a moment, you lack the tight grip of jealousy in your stomach. Simply seeing another woman in the vicinity of your lover wouldn’t send you over the edge of rage and loathing. If she were to flirt with him? Still, no strong feelings claim to be felt. Just as you belong to Levi, he very much belongs to you.

But what if he doesn’t see it that way? Does he think you are noncommittal? That you lack the dedication and seriousness after all that has happened?

Levi has gifted you with so much, and has spent so much time by your side. Day in and day out, it has only been him. You eat every meal together. You share the same friend group. You work at the same job. You live next door to one another. You sleep in his bed three nights of the week, he sleeps in yours the remaining four. So quickly, he has become your entire world.

A clarity you did not seek comes hurtling towards you. Is it possible that he has grown bored of you? Is that why he abandons you now?

You’re spiraling, and you know that you’re spiraling. You feel mildly pathetic, leaning against the wall, sipping from your cup, gazing off into space. Petra walked off a bit ago, swept up between grabbing another drink and catching up with another friend. When did you get so dependent on Levi’s validation and attention? If you thought he was being ridiculous before, having a pissing contest with Erwin, you feel ten times outrageous at your trail of thoughts.

“Where’d your body guard go?”

Almost grateful for the distraction of a distinctly English accent, you focus on the blonde standing before you. “Levi is probably catching up with some friends, if that’s who you’re referring to.”

“How long have you guys been together?” Erwin places himself to your left, mimicking your anti-social lean. 

“A little while now,” You smile. “How long have you guys known each other?”

“A little while now,” He smirks. “Moblit and I were coworkers for a spin, hence the friendship with Hange. Levi and them are a packaged deal. In a roundabout way, I guess that makes Levi and I friends too.”

“Really seems like it,” You say sarcastically.

Erwin chuckles warmly, “I wouldn’t say that I am his favorite person by any measure. He doesn’t appear to like me very much.”

“It took some time to break through his wall of ice, but with some blood, sweat, and tears, he’s really a great person,” You reply. “Oh, and a batch of cupcakes that he swears he hated.”

“Hm, noted,” He says. Following up with a diversion from the topic, he asks, “What brought you to the city?”

You dread this question. Only having explained it to Levi, Petra, and Hange, you feel very uncomfortable confronting the reality of your move. It sounds bad saying you ran away from home, horrible even. Like you have some deep, dark, mysterious past. In a way, sure, but it feels so childish in comparison to other people’s struggles. 

“A change of pace,” You decide to answer. “Gave up most of my possessions, took all of my savings out, and decided to risk it all. You probably think it’s silly, but it ended up working out.”

“I don’t think it’s silly at all,” Erwin’s thick brows descend into his lashes. “That’s quite brave. You must’ve been so scared.”

Brave. A word Levi had previously used in a very different context. How peculiar that Erwin’s use of it feels wrong, like he’s coddling you.

“Yeah well,” You bite your cheek. “Like I said, everything worked out for the best.”

“Please forgive me if this comes across condescending in any way,” He begins, a weight dreadfully pools in your chest. “But based on what I know, you seem far too, what’s the word? Motivated to be where you’re at.”

“What do you mean?” You force down a defensive tone.

“Working at Hange’s,” He clarifies. “It shocked me when I first met you that someone like you would find yourself in the service industry. You don’t strike me as the type to conform to a typical easy job.”

“It isn’t easy, first of all,” You respond, words clipped and politeness abandoned. “Second, I am completely grateful that I even have a job. I was weeks away from being homeless. Levi and Hange are owed every bit of thanks for that.”

“I apologize if I’m being offensive. I tend to be blunt,” Erwin says hesitantly. You see the words forming behind his eyes, the careful choice of vocabulary as he continues, “I like you. I like what you have to say. You intrigue me. I think you have a lot more to offer, and I am interested in that.”

“Wow, you are blunt,” You blink, shocked at his confession.

“I was serious when I said I’d like to see your work. I’d like to get to know you better. Both professionally and otherwise.”

Your mind reels. So Erwin was flirting with you earlier. A pulse of rejection sweeps in your throat, ready to clarify your romantic interest as zero percent. Sure, you thought the blonde to be attractive previously, but that was before a certain raven haired asshole stole your heart and offered you something so beautiful in return. The idea of being with another man disgusts you, simply put.

Before you can respond, shutting him down on the spot, he extends two fingers, a business card slotted between them.

“Call me if you’re interested,” His eyes flicker over you, distracted by something. “Or whenever he isn’t around.”

While you’re gaping at the audacity of his words, Erwin seizes the opportunity to push the paper into your hand. He bids you a quick farewell, disappearing moments later. 

Without an opportunity to process what just happened, fingers land on your shoulder. You jump, startled by the abrupt sensation, and crane your neck sharply to your right. Levi quickly removes his touch, expression stoic and hard.

“Where have you been?” You inquire, pressing a palm to your thrumming heart. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Around,” He stares blankly. “I’m ready to head out.”

“Oh, okay,” You say. “We should probably say goodbye to everyone then.”

“Yeah.”

Okay? You raise your eyebrows in question, but Levi is already en route to the nearest friend. With hugs and thanks to Hange and Moblit for hosting and a tender farewell to Petra, Levi leads you swiftly towards the front door. You make sure to pet Bean on the way out, tuckered out from all the attention the pup received from the party guests. Levi flags down a taxi, wordlessly opening the back door for you, and joins you from the opposite side.

The car ride home is spent in excruciating silence. The spiraling you traversed through earlier resumes, enhanced by Erwin’s offer. Did Levi hear all of that? Does he know that you’re not interested in Erwin or his professional opportunities? 

You think back to the night prior, how strikingly different the energy feels between the two of you. Levi held your hand as you walked home, whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep, cuddled up in his embrace. He sits so far from you now in the backseat of this taxi, practically crushing himself against the door. You wish to cross the distressed leather, to laugh and smile as he recounts his night, thread your fingers through his and place sickly sweet kisses to his cheek.

You gaze at him from the corner of your eye. Levi glares out the window, figures beyond the glass blurring past in dizzying haste. Lights pass his face in a flash, illuminating his emotionless expression. You almost want to cry, displeased that he would assume the worst from you. Clearly, Levi is upset. 

The thoughts take a darker turn, ones so deeply embedded in the rawest parts of your being. You disappointed him. You hurt him. He sees you in an entirely different light now. You are not a good person. This is all that you are good at, inflicting emotional pain and burden upon others.

Selfish. You are selfish. You do not deserve Levi or his affection.

You grip at the paper card in your pocket, bringing it discreetly into your lap. You rip it in half silently.

The ride is unbearable and tormentingly long. Despite this, as the cab slows in front of your building, you feel hesitant to exit. Levi all but dashes from his side, shoving a fistful of cash at the driver. Gulping nervously, you find the courage to join Levi in his departure. Taking long strides towards the lobby doors, your body begins to shake. Anxiously, you pause, drawing on pure adrenaline to guide you next.

“Hey,” You call out weakly, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Can we talk?”

Levi stops, fist wrapped around the metal handle of the door. “About what?”

“You’re acting off. What happened at Hange’s?”

He doesn’t turn to face you. “Nothing happened.”

“Levi,” You implore. “Don’t be like that. Talk to me.”

“If you want someone to talk to, there’s a card in your pocket with a phone number on it. Try calling it.”

And there it is, the crushing realization that you were right all along. He thinks you to be unfaithful, flighty, drawn to anyone who bestows even a fragment of their attention. 

“Levi, I love you,” Your resolve breaks, a shattering crackle to your words. “I am not interested in Erwin. I was shutting him down when you walked over. Both times.”

“Didn’t look like it,” Levi sounds so dejected, so defeated. 

“Why are you being so–”

“So what?” He flies, hurtling towards you so swiftly it throws you from the moment. “Jealous? Insecure?”

“Yes!” You shout. “I thought we were past misunderstanding each other! You should know I would never flirt with anyone other than you!”

“Do I?” His tone shifts to that of ugly condescension, bruising both your ego and your perception. “Do I really? You were practically drooling over him, talking about art. I saw it all over your face. You like him!”

“Be so fucking serious!” You’re nearing hysteria. “I hardly know the guy!”

“Like it matters. Erwin always gets what Erwin wants.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, Levi?”

“C'est de la foutaise!” He throws his hands in the air.

(This is bullshit!)

“Can you just please just speak to me?” You plead. “This is insane.”

“I can never just be happy!” Levi’s eyes line with the hint of tears. “I can never keep anyone that I love! You are so perfect, so unabashedly you, and I am so fucking undeserving of that.”

“That is not true.”

“Mais ne voyez-vous pas? It is, mon précieux. These past few months have been perfect, far too perfect. Look at me, chérie, really fucking look at me,” He gestures wildly. “I have nothing. I have nothing to offer. I am not some art collector sitting on a fortune, ready to spend it on whoever catches my eye. I manage a fucking bar barely making ends meet, I own nothing of value. I can’t even look you in the eyes and ask you for commitment. I don’t know how to.”

(Can’t you see? – my precious �� darling.)

“Why would I care about that?” You step closer, a small breath away from his face. “Levi, I don’t care! I’m not exactly in a great financial place either! I never was!”

“But you are so – alive,” Levi pauses, gazing so deeply into your eyes. “You are so brave, the bravest person I have ever known. You feel everything. You are so full of talent and adventure and lust for life. Until you, I had no passion for anything. Not even photography. I feel like I’m an echo chamber of everything that you are.”

“Stop diminishing yourself!” 

“I’m so fucking scared,” He says your name, a broken call. “I am so scared that you are going to see right through me someday. You are going to see everything that I am not. I have lost so much, and I refuse to watch you walk away.”

“Where is this coming from?” You ask exasperatedly. 

The reality of this situation dawns on you. Levi is having a panic attack. The swirling of his pupils, the accelerated intake of his breathing. 

“I’m sorry,” He heaves. “I tried so hard to be good enough for you, but I can’t. I don’t know how to hold on to the people I love.”

“Levi,” Your tone softens as you begin to understand. Your palms reach for his face, flushed and blotchy, caressing him gently, “I love you, and you are more than enough for me. I am not leaving you, not now or ever.”

“You’ll have all of me,” He says. “Every rotten part of me. And then you’ll move on to your next grand adventure once you get bored of me.”

“Hey,” You coo, heart wrenching. “That isn’t going to happen. Look at me. Levi, breathe, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears threaten to fall from his lashes, “Everything that I have ever let go of has claw marks on it.”

“I never took you as a poet.”

“Only if the situation calls for it.”

A weary smile breaks through your worried lips. “Is this really about me talking to Erwin?”

“No,” Levi admits, slowly regaining a sense of calm. “Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death.”

“I didn’t know,” Your thumbs work in circles on the edges of his jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“I should have told you.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t matter. I’m here now, I’m listening.”

He nods reluctantly, peering at you with such intensity it makes your brain rattle. “She died when I was young. Cancer. My uncle – Kenny – took guardianship over me after my mom passed. Threw me out at seventeen. Ever since, I haven’t had anyone stable in my life. Hange is the closest one to ever resemble some kind of security, but I take care of them and the bar. It isn’t the same, they rely on me most of the time.”

“I’m sorry,” You offer weakly. “I can’t even imagine the loss you’ve been through.”

“I don’t like the pity,” Levi shies away for a brief pause, embarrassed and disparaged. “I don’t even like thinking about it. It feels weak.”

“It isn’t, though,” You say. “Levi, you have been the only person taking care of yourself. If anything, you should be angry.”

“I am,” He cuts. “Because I alone have the control over who hurts me now, who can leave. And you—“

“Left something before,” You finish for him, a finality to your tone that surprises even you.

His face scrunches, as if hearing the words brings some kind of painful conclusion to his venting. “I don’t want to make you feel ashamed, but it’s what I worry about.”

“I don’t want to leave you though,” You insist. “You make me so happy Levi. Happier than I have ever felt before. I ran away from home because I was drowning. You have gifted me so much.”

“That’s not fair,” He hisses. “To you or to me. I can’t be responsible for your happiness, I can hardly manage my own. Clearly.”

“We are human,” You firmly state. “We both have our shit to deal with, to heal from. But I want to figure it out with you. I don’t want to run, I have no reason to. For the first time, I want to build a life, something permanent. I want that with you.

“I am so far from perfect,” You laugh without humor. “But I stopped being afraid when I started falling in love with you. I want to feel everything. I want to experience everything, the good and the bad. Levi, you have left an immeasurable impact on me. I have grown so much. I have changed.”

“You don’t need me for any of that,” Levi frowns. “You would still be doing all of that if you hadn’t met me.”

“But it’s because of you I spent the time looking inwards, to face all the bullshit I ran from. You make me a better person, just being in my life.”

He searches for something in your face, maybe a hint of doubt. “How are you so – sure?”

“I’m not. Not even in the slightest. I have no idea what the future holds, or who I will be tomorrow, next year, or in five. But,” Tears burn behind your irises. “I know I want you there.”

He takes a deep, stabilizing breath, “More than anything, I’m terrified to ever let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

“You make it all sound so simple,” Levi chuckles bitterly. “This is all so much easier when you’re the focus.”

“Hey, I can handle a few tears,” You repeat the words he’d murmured to you previously. He smiles begrudgingly as you continue, “Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll make you a cup of tea, and we’ll keep talking okay?”

Swiping the back of his hand along his eyes, Levi nods. He shakes his arms, ridding himself of the emotional weight of his vulnerability and fears. Loosened now, you reach for his hand, holding his palm securely. You stare at one another, so raw and earnest. 

You cannot deny the irony of it all. Levi, who has lost everyone. Withered and battered from abandonment and rejection, so adamantly convinced that somewhere within his being there lurks something so deeply flawed and unlovable. You, who has run away from everything you have ever known. Motivated by the belief that the only way to survive is to leave the damage and destruction behind. 

Faces flash in your mind’s eye. Your mother, who changed so dramatically for the worst over the course of your life that you hold only a handful of fondness for. Armin, who gave you the gifts of kindness and empathy. Without him, you do not believe you would find any sort of profoundness in your previous actions. Eren, who bestowed you with passion and regret, but also forced the hand of forgiveness of self. What tidal waves of feeling would you experience without his influence? Would they mimic shallow pools? 

Mikasa, the deepest and grandest friendship you have ever felt. You would have never dared to look at your own reflection, reflected on your decisions, dreamed of a future, without her. 

You are a collection of all the people that you have ever loved. The weight of the absence is palpable, but they are never truly gone from you. Through you, they still breathe the same air that you inhale now.

In some capacity, running away from home was a mistake. Maybe you could have faced your fears, conquered the hardships lingering in these connections that haunt you, made a life for yourself despite the insufferable circumstances. Perhaps you would’ve met Levi along the way. 

The universe has a funny way of ensuring you learn your lessons as viscerally as possible.

The likelihood of meeting Levi, knowing him in this intimate way, would have been slim. You connect with him in this reality in a very specific way. The bolter and the abandoned. Assuming you stayed, you most likely would have healed in a very different form. 

You think of resentment. The stifling cage of conformity. The lack of control over your life.

It doesn’t matter, you conclude. Exhuming the past is exhaustive and only leaves you hollowed with the lack of closure. It holds substance only as long as you allow it to.

You are no longer that person. Levi will understand this too.

You will spend every devoted second ensuring that Levi knows exactly how beloved he is. Not only is it what he deserves, it’s what you deserve.

Hurt people hurt people. You remember thinking of this phrase months prior, but with fierce determination, you intend to break that cursed cycle. 

Hurt people heal. Hurt people love. Hurt people are changed. 

The one who stayed and the chosen. You think that description fits better.

Levi clings to your side as you embark the ascension to your apartments. The silence is strikingly more comfortable than the one shared in the ride home. Reassuring touches usher forth from your fingertips, communicating what words do not. On your floor, Levi tugs you gently towards his dwelling. 

Once inside, you make yourself comfortable on his couch. Locking the door behind him and traversing beyond the threshold, he joins you. Placing his body close to yours, he maneuvers your legs to dangle over his lap. You smile fondly at the gesture, tracing patterns with your thumb on the ball of his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for how I yelled at you,” He starts, all traces of panic and insecurity vanishing from his expression. “My mom’s death anniversary isn’t an excuse for how I acted.”

“No, but it explains why you were feeling the way you were,” You reply. “Why seeing Erwin talking to me made you upset. I’m sorry that I would ever make you think I would ever entertain him.”

“It’s less you and more me,” He says. “I haven’t asked you to be exclusive with me. If you were interested in him, I couldn’t bring myself to be angry. It ultimately would’ve been my fault.”

“We aren’t teenagers, you know,” You joke lightly. “We can be exclusive without proclamation.”

He laughs, deep and graveled, “You’re right. But still.”

“What’s the deal with him anyways?”

“I just don’t like the guy. Never have, probably never will. Erwin is a stuck up rich boy.”

You shake your head, smiling, “Not my type, just so you know.”

“Mister big blue eyes and charming smile?” Levi arches a brow. “Yeah, right. I don’t believe that, but I’ll let that go for the sake of not rehashing my insecure breakdown.”

“Levi,” You say intently. “I don’t care about Erwin. I don’t care what he has to offer. I only want you.”

He gazes at you with such profound vulnerability as he says, “Do you promise?”

You nod, “I’ll spend every day proving that to you in whatever way I can. I love you, you idiot.”

Levi bites his lip, casting his focus to the floor. “I love you too.”

“So, we can start with this,” You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “Would you like to be exclusive?”

“I would like that very much.”

“I would too.”

“I am truly sorry,” He says. “For acting that way tonight. I should’ve just talked to you.”

“We’re talking now,” You respond. “I’m here to listen.”

Levi takes a deep breath and dives into a valiant display of vulnerability. Clutching tightly to your hand, he recounts his childhood. How loving and wondrous his mother was, how he never really had a father figure in his life. How hard it was when she passed, how guilty he felt for being so young and useless. How his uncle neglected him, left him to fend for himself. How photography made the world a bit better.

He met Hange in his early twenties, becoming fast friends. He felt responsibility for the brunette, following them throughout their adult lives. He still feels responsibility. He has never been able to shake this feeling that everyone depends on him to have his shit together. Levi struggles with close connections because of this.

Levi speaks and vents until he is practically asleep. Still, he reflects, he talks. It is open, raw, and honest.

You listen to every word without interruption. Even when you leave the comfortability of the couch and travel to Levi’s bedroom, he continues to explain why he is the way he is. He has never known peace. He pretends he is confident, that he has his shit together. In truth, he doesn’t.

Laying side by side, you caress his cheek as his muttering loses any trace of resentment. He speaks earnestly, “I don’t want to end up alone.”

“I’m here now, Levi,” You say softly. “You’re not alone.”

“Good,” He smiles, eyelids drooping. “Neither are you.”

You reach for him, tugging his body to the heat of yours. Embracing him fully, you cart your fingers through his raven locks. You place a kiss on his forehead, making whispered promises of devotion. 

You have both been through so much. You are deserving of love, of each other. With a fierce sense of understanding and commitment, you swear to uphold this way of thinking throughout the duration of your relationship.

Which, you hope lasts forever. 

-

Waking with Levi tucked securely to your chest, the sun a vivid fixture in the fragmented rays extending beyond the curtains, you lay with half lidded eyes recounting the night and its confessions. Remembering your poisoned thoughts, you allow them to mull over in your mind’s eye. How wrong they feel now, thinking that you were undeserving of love. It speaks against all that you have learned and blossomed into. For months now, you have fought with every ounce of mental strength to become a better version of yourself. You feel disappointed in yourself. How could you ever regress back to those weaponized, loathing ways of being? 

Levi, who still sleeps soundly, became victim to his own demons. Your heart aches for him, for all the loss and devastation that has plagued his life. You hope you can provide stability for him. You’ll do everything within your power to ensure that.

A gentle knock at his front door stirs the ravenette. You blink wearily, mildly disappointed you could not continue your mental musings. Introspection is a vital tool for you these days to process your life. 

“Expecting someone?” You ask, voice still poignant with sleep. 

Levi groans, rubbing a palm over his face, “Not until later.”

“Who is it?” You watch as he forces himself up, throwing his comforter to the side. He throws on a sweater, big and comfortable. 

“Just my cousin,” He says. “She’s visiting for a bit, but I didn’t think that she would get in this early.”

“Cousin?” You smile, excitement budding your chest. “You didn’t think you had any other family, from what we talked about.”

“She lives in the States,” Levi explains, continuing to dress himself. “Graduated college recently. You’ll probably like her.”

Without further conversation, he exits the room hastily to not leave the family member waiting. You cannot contain the happiness that floods your veins. You have met all of Levi’s friends, have made them your own as well, and now – an opportunity to prove a permanent fixture in his life presents itself.

Meeting family. It’s a big deal.

You hear the murmuring of voices echo throughout Levi’s apartment as you rush to dress yourself. Glancing in a mirror hanging on the wall of the bedroom, you rake your fingers through your hair to tame the bumps acquired overnight. Deeming yourself presentable enough, you take a deep breath. 

Taking calculated steps, you mentally prepare for introductions. You hope you’re likable. You hope you like her, this cousin. Already the two of you share so much in common, coming from another part of the world. You wonder if she’ll share any resemblance to Levi – the dark raven hair, the sparkling eyes. 

You see Levi first as you enter the living room. He turns his head, a warm smile lighting up his features.

He calls out your name, “This is my girlfriend. This is my cousin–”

“Hi!” You interrupt, mimicking Levi’s bright grin. “It’s so nice to meet you–”

Levi steps to the side, allowing a clear view of his family member.

Your heart sinks to the floor.

Mikasa stands in the threshold. A timid smile on her face descends into an open mouth gape. Shock paints both your expressions. 

She says your name hesitantly. The world falls down around you.

LACHERI © 2021-2025: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.

[ryukatters]

katt :333 hai

hello miss alexis :3 whats been going on with u?

[ryukatters]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be���” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[ryukatters]

satoru sits completely flabbergasted when his wife who’s into astrology confesses to him on his birthday that she pursued him not for his looks, wealth, or being the brazen woman he thought you were from the beginning when you were very adamant on going on a date with him ‘till he eventually relented. but because you found out when he was born, did the research, and learned the stars and planets dictated you and him were the perfect cosmic match.

there weren’t many things one could say or do that could make a man like gojo satoru’s jaw drop in disbelief, but his wife was capable of such a feat simply every time she opened her mouth.

you tilt your head up at his silence, and upon glancing at the hilarious expression on his face, you smile. “it’s okay, though! it all worked out in the end and i fell in love with you like the universe had planned.” and how could he be mad at that?

[ryukatters]

Seven (minus two) — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: five different ways satoru fucks you just right. inspired by jk’s “seven.” happy birthday you sexy sexy man

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

⟡ content: smutty smut smut, semi public sex, he picks you up but cmon he’s the strongest for a reason, reader isn’t a sorcerer, oral (m&f receiving), body worship, degradation, gojo pulls reader’s hair, some dom/sub dynamics, refractory period is nonexistent, satoru is a slight exhibitionist and makes it everyone’s problem, omfg i just realized i made him a munch, gojo in handcuffs 😋 MINORS DNI

also i used one of @/jinsdumplingson’s prompts for scenario #3!

⟡ wc: 5k (LMFAO)

live laugh love gojo ✨

i. You love when I jump right in / All of me I’m offering / Show you what devotion is — (body worship + exhibitionism)

You consider yourself to be a nice girlfriend, you really do. You pamper your boyfriend, prepare him lunch, and even make the trip to hand deliver it to him at Jujutsu High. And yet—

“Satoru, don’t even think about it. Or I swear to god—”

“Swear what, baby?” Even with the blindfold on, there was no mistaking the predatory glint adorning the eyes behind it.

Satoru had wasted no time dragging you into a random classroom the minute he greeted you at the campus entrance. For all the things that Satoru Gojo possessed, restraint (especially when it came to you) wasn’t one of them. He didn’t even have enough self-control to at least try and make it to his office.

What he did have though, was the nerve to shove the both of you in a room where anyone could pass by. Where anyone could hear the downright degenerate activities Satoru was going to coerce you into. 

And who was Satoru if not a fan of pushing the limits of how far he can get away with things? 

Your boyfriend stalks towards you. His boots clack against the wooden floors, echoing against the walls of the empty classroom. You find yourself taking a step back for each one he steps forward. The divide between the two of you seems to get impossibly smaller.

A gasp tumbles past your lips as the back of your legs hit the edge of a desk. Satoru smiles, the same one he gives when he knows he has you where he wants you, that he’s won the little game of cat and mouse you two play when he gets like this; consumed by a searing hunger that gnaws at his very core, one that can only be satiated by getting his fill of you. 

“Uh oh,” he gasps mockingly, giving you a faux look of surprise. “Looks like you’re done running.” Large hands wrap under your thighs before you’re being lifted up onto the wooden desk with ease. “And I’ve got you right where I want you.” 

“‘toru,” you gasp, trying (and failing) to protest as a last ditch effort to save the both of you some propriety. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, nipping at your jugular. “You look so beautiful, I just need to have you.”

“B-but, you have a meeting with Yaga right after—”

“Baby.” He deadpans, eyes boring straight into yours. “Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. And don’t say anyone else’s name when I’m about to go down on you.” He shuts down any and all protests by leaning down and capturing your lips with his. Calloused hands roam your body appreciatively, squeezing both of your tits and running his thumbs over the outline of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric of your top.

It’s not enough. He needs to feel you. Your clothes are in the way. Your head snaps down to look at your now exposed chest, mouth agape as you stare at your boyfriend whose eyes are filled with mirth. 

“God, look at you.”  

“Satoru, you just ripped my fucking shirt–”

“Shh,” he hums, easily covering your mouth with one hand to muffle any expletives thrown his way. “You’re worrying about the wrong things, princess,” his hand moves down to wrap around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan. Satoru lets out a satisfied hum. “For example,” his free hand slides down to reach under your waistband, index finger rubbing along your slit. “This soaked pussy. Don’t you think she deserves a little more attention, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for a response. “I think she does,” laughing you jolt from the harsh slap he gives your clit. “So are you going to let me give her what she deserves or are you going to keep being a brat?”

Your response dies on the tip of your tongue. You stare up at Satoru, eyes blown wide with lust. You shake your head.

“Use your words,” he demands. “Don’t keep disappointing me, princess. Taught you better than that.”

“I…” you start, feeling the way your cheeks burn in humiliation. Satoru stares at you expectantly. “Give me what I deserve, ‘toru. Please,” you whisper.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Good girl.” 

Satoru litters a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your tits, mouth latching on to one as his hand squeezes the other lovingly. “I think you deserve everything and more, princess. So I’m going to give it to you.”

Satoru thanks his lucky stars that you decided to wear a skirt today. He runs his hands up and down your thighs appreciatively before flipping up the garment, revealing your panties that were surely stained with arousal. He presses a sweet kiss to your mound, sucking the fabric slightly. He thinks it’s such a waste for such sweetness to be lost to a flimsy piece of cloth. Nectar as sweet of yours deserves to be worshiped, and Satoru considers himself your most loyal devotee. He won’t allow any more to go to waste.  

“Can’t believe you were keeping this soaked pussy from me,” he sighs. “’s not very nice of you, baby.” 

You don’t get in so much of a peep before Satoru practically starts making out with your pussy. Satoru is gluttonous. He’ll take and take, especially if the dish on the table in question is you. He worships you with a fervor that could rival even the most pious of devotees. You manage to blow his mind every time. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, gripping to the edge of the desk for support. “That feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah? You were fightin’ me so hard earlier but look at you now,” he coos, “so ready to be a good girl for me.” 

Satoru flicks his tongue across your clit expertly before sucking on the sensitive nub. He feels his cock strain against the confines of his uniform pants as you trill beneath him. He knows you’re close based on the way your back is arching further and further off the desk. “You gonna cum, pretty?”

“Mhmm,” you slur. Your high comes crashing down on you in waves. You slap a hand against your mouth to muffle any and all sounds of pleasure as Satoru helps you ride out your orgasm. He pulls away when you start to pull away from overstimulation. The two of you don’t really have the luxury of teasing at the moment.

He’s nice enough to not let you beg for his cock. Satoru tends to have a sadistic streak and derives extreme pleasure in seeing you squirmy and embarrassed, begging for his mercy. 

But he thinks he likes you like this too— soft whines and whimpers, a voiceless plea for more. Afraid of being heard by passerby’s. The more possessive part of him is rearing, manifesting itself through soft caresses and searing lovebites. His mind turns to putty knowing that he’s the only one to see you like this, hear you like this, feel you like this. 

He slides in without much resistance. He muffles himself in between the juncture of your shoulder and neck, licking at the bite gingerly as a means of apologizing. 

Satoru doesn’t have any restraint when it comes to you. But he tries his damn hardest not to plow into you the minute he’s inside you. He gives a few shallow thrusts before picking up the pace. He fucks into you with rough, calculated precision. Your back starts to feel raw against the fine oak but you can’t find it in you to care. Not when Satoru is giving it to you so good.

Satoru is overwhelmed by the desire to be impossibly closer to you, to meld the two of you into one. So he does. He picks you up with ease. You let out a slight yelp as you feel yourself in midair, wrapping your legs around his waist on instinct. He fucks you like that, strong arms under your thighs as he lifts you up and down his length like a cocksleeve. 

“God, baby,” he moans, fingertips digging into the fat of your thighs. “Pussy’s pulling me in so tight. ‘s like you were made for me.” 

“Satoru,” you whimper, “‘m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” His pace doesn’t relent. He only drills into you harder, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “Cum for me, sweet girl.” 

You’re lucky to have enough wits in you to let out a soft cry instead of screaming out your boyfriend’s name. Satoru follows you soon after, riding out his own orgasm as he paints your walls white. He lays you back down on the desk before slumping over you, struggling to catch his breath. He gives you a quick peck before he slurs out, “You’re so perfect, you know that?”

Maybe you should bring him lunch more often. 

ii. Leave you with that afterglow (light bondage)

Satoru forgets just how downright cruel you can be. How his sweet girlfriend also has a little sadistic side to her that enjoys seeing him squirm. Maybe it’s because you’re the only one capable of doing so. 

He’s desperate to touch you, to hold you, to squeeze your body as you move on top of him. His hands twitch with need, but he’s stopped by two metal cuffs chaining him to the bed. Soft ivory wrists are marred by a slight red, evidence of his struggle. 

“B-baby,” he whimpers. His voice sounds unfamiliar even to him. The words spilling past his lips foreign to his own ears, “Fuck— please. More, I need more.” 

You’ve managed to reduce the strongest sorcerer into a blushing, blubbering mess.

Satoru doesn’t care that you’re making him go absolutely fucking stupid. He welcomes it, even. All he cares about is the way you’re swirling your hips, your sharp nails digging into either side of his neck, and whether or not you’ll spare him enough mercy to actually let him cum after being edged all evening. 

His moans ascend higher and higher in pitch as the coil in his stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

“God, just like that. Just like that,” he cries out.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” You ask sweetly. 

Satoru thought he reached enlightenment some time ago. But that moment pales in comparison to how he feels right now. Each passing second with you feels like you’re guiding him closer and closer to Nirvana with no respite. 

It’s not fair, Satoru thinks. It’s not fair that you know where he’s weak and for you to use that against him. 

“Y-yeah,” he gasps as you reach down one hand, fingertips grazing against his perineum. “For you, ‘s always for you, baby. Please, please let me cum.”

You stare down at your boyfriend, entranced by the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his hickey-stained neck and the way his flushed chest heaves. Satoru just looks downright pretty. Especially when he’s ruined.

“Cum for me, ‘toru,”

The tears that have been threatening to spill from his lash line all evening finally fall. He bucks his hips up to meet the way you bounce down on his cock. Satoru cries out your name as he fucks his load into you, ribbons and ribbons of cum painting your insides. Something inside Satoru breaks with the mind numbing orgasm you pull out of him. It’s replaced by something more carnal, more feral. 

Any and all restraint he has all but flies out the window, easily breaking apart the metal links of the handcuffs binding him to your headboard. His hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into the plush fat with a grip that’ll surely leave bruises come the morning. 

He’s honestly impressed he was able to hold out that long. 

“A-ah, ‘toru wait–” you cry out.

“Nuh-uh. You’ve had your fun,” he tuts, manhandling you until you’re on all fours. “Now let me have mine.”

iii. Take your phone and put it in the camera roll

Satoru Gojo is a lot of things. Overzealous, irresponsible with practiced precision, extremely doting, loud, boisterous, and all the other epithets that barely begin to scratch the surface on the illustrious strongest sorcerer. 

His very birth shook the entire country of Japan. His very existence is celebrated as the pinnacle of Jujutsu society. One would assume that the man would be the type to spend his special day in a fashion as grand as himself. He honors each and every one of his students and friends with such grandiose celebrations on their birthdays, so it’s safe to assume he’d hold the same standards for himself. Wrong. He’d much rather spend his day with you, in a much more intimate setting. A safe haven, of sorts, from the chaos and insanity that seems to follow him everywhere. He doesn’t get many days off, so being able to spend time with you is always a blessing no matter what day it is. So you can imagine the fit he threw when you told him to go grab dinner with his friends, and the even bigger fit he threw when he found out you wouldn’t be accompanying him.

With a promise that he’d get more than enough of his fill (of you) later on, you send your boyfriend off with a kiss on the lips that turns into a continuation of what you two have been up to all morning. 

He arrives late to his own birthday party in true Gojo fashion.

While Satoru can appreciate the sentiment, he’d much rather be spending the night with you. Alone. In bed. Or on the kitchen counter. Or in the living room. 

Although you took him out for brunch at this new restaurant with the fluffiest pancakes he’s ever had (he swears the sauce had crack in it), you told him his birthday wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t at least try and grab a few drinks with his friends.  He wanted to argue that being able to spend the whole day with you would have made him feel satisfied, but he could never say no to you. 

Which is exactly how he ends up at the local dive bar with some Tokyo and Kyoto peeps. Shoko will use any excuse to drink. So will Nanami, as long as it’s at Satoru’s expense (literally).

Today, 10:29 PM

baby

hey pretty boy u enjoying yourself? come home soon, okay? a little birdy told me your last present is waiting for you at home.

You

not much of a party if you’re not here to enjoy it with me, angel can i get a little hint? 🤪

baby?

baby

1 image delivered.

You

omw.

Satoru merely throws down a couple stacks (which is honestly more than enough to pay for everyone, but Gojo has no concept of how much things should cost) before hastily making his exit for the night. 

He doesn’t even bother ordering an uber. Because why should he waste any more time away from his precious baby when he could just teleport home? So he does, straight into your bedroom. You scream out in surprise. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Satoru—”

“You don’t get to use that tone with me, pretty girl,” he tuts, eyeing you hungrily, “especially when you’ve been hiding this from me.”

You needed to find a way to get Satoru away from you (which was a damn near impossible task most of the time) so you could figure out how to put on the whole ensemble.

The ‘this’ that Satoru was referring to was a dainty white lace lingerie set that leaves nothing to the imagination. What really takes the cake, however, is the giant baby blue ribbon nestled perfectly on the small of your back. You were wrapped up like his present. And Satoru thinks this is probably the best gift he’ll ever get in his life.

“On all fours, beautiful.”

You do as you’re told like a good girl. You really sell the show by arching your back, practically presenting yourself on a silver platter. Satoru feels his mouth water in anticipation. 

“Look here, baby,” Satoru commands. So you do. You realize that he has his phone out, hearing the telltale shutter of his camera. “For keepsakes,” he grins cheekily. 

He runs his hand along your backside appreciatively, stopping to squeeze your ass and spread you apart for his viewing pleasure. He thumbs at your puckered hole teasingly, letting out a mean laugh as you squeal.

He gives your pussy a few harsh slaps, fascinated by the strings of your arousal that collect on his fingertips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you, barely even touched you and you’re already falling apart.” 

“‘toru, don’t tease,” you whine.

“Is that how I taught you to ask for things?” He gives your ass a rough spank, squeezing at the stinging skin.

You shake your head in the negative, lips wobbling. God, you look so pathetic it drives him insane. 

“Thought so. Tell me what you want, properly this time. And I might just give it to you.” 

“Please fuck me, ‘toru.”

“You want my cock, baby?”

“Need it,” you whimper. 

“Yeah?” he coos, bringing a hand to rub up and down your slit while the other works his lengths out of his slacks. “You gonna let me have my way with you? Do whatever I want with this pussy?”

You whine, nodding desperately. Satoru gives you a feral grin before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “Atta girl.”

“I’m going to fuck you so good that you won’t even be able to think about getting up tomorrow. Hope you’re ready, sweetheart. You’ve dug your own grave.”

iv. Come here, baby, let me swallow yo' pride (agoraphilia/exhibitionsism)

“Satoru—”

“Not my name.” 

“‘toru, w-wait,” you gasp, trying to push your boyfriend off as he litters your neck with bruises that’ll certainly make themselves known in the morning. He easily takes both of your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, pushing you flush against the back of the door. The same door, mind you, that’s separating the two of you from the rest of his fellow sorcerers at their annual end of the year celebration. 

“Th-There are people outside this door—” 

“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” 

Shameless. Absolutely shameless. 

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, pressing his hips against yours. “Just this once.” You know it’s never ‘just once’ with Satoru. You fear for the state of your dress and makeup (along with your dignity) if you give into him right now. “You know I’ll make it up to you later.” 

“Your friends are in the other room. They’re going to hear us because you don’t know how to keep your stupid mouth shut.” You let out a choked moan as he slots one of his thighs in between your legs, providing some much needed friction for your aching center. 

“That sounds like their problem, if I’m being honest.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously handsome? Persuasive? Oh baby, I know.” 

“And an idiot.”

“I’m a genius.” 

You roll your eyes with a sigh. “You better make this quick.”

Satoru releases your wrists, grinning as you run your hands up and down his chest before dropping down to your knees. You make quick work of his belt and pants, palming at his cock that’s already started leaking precum through his underwear. “That all depends on you, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s time to put that bratty mouth of yours to good use.”

He pushes his weepy tip past your lips with a soft groan. You lick at the slit just the way he likes and Satoru has to hold back a shudder.

“This is your fault, y’know,” he growls, hands finding purchase in the locks of your hair— which you worked very hard on, by the way. “You just look so pretty. It’s almost like you were asking for it.”

A pathetic whine escapes past your throat, muffled by Satoru’s cock. Satoru shudders from the vibrations. 

“That’s it, baby. Fucking choke on it.” He lets out a broken moan as he feels your throat constrict around his cock. You just feel so good. “God, I’m gonna cum. You’re going to make me cum.” 

His hands weave themselves through your hair even tighter, as if he’s trying to find something corporeal to anchor himself in the midst of this surreal storm of pleasure. 

Your head bumps against the wooden door rhythmically in sync with how Satoru fucks your throat. It’d probably hurt if not for Satoru’s hands protecting the back of your head. If your friends weren’t sure what you two were doing before, they definitely knew now.

Satoru doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed that he finishes in record time, not when your tongue is pressed taut against the underside of his cock.

Your nails dig into the flesh of Satoru’s strong thighs, leaving indents against the freshly pleated satin of his dress slacks. 

You’re struggling to take it all. He watches in fascination as a mix of his cum and your spit starts to dribble out of the corners of your mouth. He pulls out of you with a hint of hesitation, immediately missing your warmth while you try and catch your breath. Satoru wipes the cum threatening to drip off your chin with his thumb before pressing the digit against your tongue. It’d be such a waste for it to go anywhere else, after all. 

“Swallow it.”

You stare up with him with a lustridden expression as you do what you’re told. 

God, you were always so good for him. It’s enough to make him hard again. He intends to make good on his promise to make it up to you very soon. But not here.

He fixes the both of you up to make yourselves somewhat presentable before exuberantly announcing your guys’ departure in true Satoru fashion. You’re privy to the looks of disdain painted on Utahime and Nanami’s faces (mostly directed towards your boyfriend), but you can’t find it in yourself to care as Satoru slides an arm around your waist and pulls you against him.

“Let’s go home.” 

v. Got you skippin' work and meetings (slight exhibitionism)

One perk about your job is the ability to work from home. No need to wake up early to get ready, sit in traffic, or deal with awkward and redundant watercooler chats with your older coworkers trying to relate to today’s generation. You have the luxury of working from your home office, with no one to pester you while you slave away at your computer. 

Satoru bursts into the room with a cheerful, “Hi baby!”

Everyone except for Satoru, of course.

“Hi...” you whisper, not bothering to face your boyfriend. “I’m about to start my meeting, ‘Toru. I’ll come out once I’m done, ‘kay?”

If you were paying more attention, you’d hear the grumble and see the petulant pout that forms on Satoru’s face at your dismissal. 

“Can I sit next to you, at least?”

You keep a chaise next to your workstation for when you want to plop down after a few hours of mind numbing work. Or for times when your extremely clingy boyfriend feels like bothering you while you’re on the clock. 

“I’m not bothering you!” He had said once. “I’m keeping you company. Isn’t that nice of me?” 

You side-eye him with a look that obviously says no, and Satoru pouts even harder. 

But as always, Satoru finds a way to coerce you into getting what he wants. He’s pretty sure you said ‘no’ to him sitting on the chaise, but that doesn’t mean it’s a ‘no’ to him sitting in general, right?

He plops down on the floor under your workstation. He thanks himself for buying you one of those height adjustable desks.

You spare him a quick glance. He almost looks ridiculous with the way he’s hunched under you, cheek pressed against your knees as he hugs both of your legs, pouting. 

There’s a joke you want to make about how your boyfriend is akin to an overgrown lap dog with how clingy he is. But you hold your tongue and decide to at least try and pay attention to your computer screen as you enter your debrief. 

You can practically hear the pout that’s painted on Satoru’s face with your lack of attention. That just won’t do for him. 

He’ll just give you a reason to pay attention to him. That’s fine. Satoru knows how to work for what he wants. And right now, he wants your thighs to suffocate him. 

You try your best to focus on what your manager is saying, you really do, but whatever corporate jargon spewing past his lips is lost on you as Satoru moves underneath you, inching himself closer and closer to you while also subtly maneuvering your rolling chair until his face is just shy of being in between your legs.

You want to curse yourself for deciding to stay in your sleep shorts today. Satoru, on the other hand, feels like rejoicing in the fact— because now you’ve just made it so much easier for him. Accessible, even. 

He pries your legs open, ignoring the way you try your best to keep them shut. He bullies his broad shoulders between them, preventing any further movement aside from spreading them even further. He examines the fading bruises and love bites littering your inner thighs from your previous sexcapades throughout the week. They’re looking a little too dull for his liking. Satoru decides you’re in desperate need of a touch up.

He pulls your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. A mix of pride and lust swell within him to know that you’re always ready for him despite your efforts to convince him otherwise. Satoru’s mouth automatically waters in a Pavlovian response. He works his way up your plush thighs, savoring the warm, silky flesh on his tongue as he suckles deep bruises into them.  

“Satoru,” you hiss, lacing your fingers through soft white locks before tugging on them harshly. You pull Satoru away from you, his lips leaving your inner thigh with a loud pop. 

“Behave.” 

You barely move your lips, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to you on your coworkers’ screens. 

It’s a warning if Satoru’s ever heard one. Unluckily for you, Satoru’s way too used to getting his way, brushing past warnings with an air of practiced defiance, paying no heed to any signals for him to concede. (“Signs can’t stop me because I can’t read!”)

Your words do nothing but go straight to his cock. That, coupled with the way you tug at his hair has a moan stumbling straight past his lips without warning. 

You quickly glance at your screen and release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding upon confirming that you are indeed on mute. You don’t need your colleagues hearing your whore of a boyfriend moaning like a pornstar in the middle of your weekly recap meeting. 

You quickly turn off your camera. They wouldn’t miss you for a few seconds, right? 

“I thought I told you to behave.” The hand that was previously gripping Satoru’s hair clamps over his mouth. “Either you stay and be quiet or you leave.”

Cerulean orbs lock with yours before you feel something wet— a tongue, swipe along the inside of your palm. You draw your hand back with a curse, wiping off the saliva with your shirt. 

“But babyyy,” he whines, wrapping his arms around your legs and resting his head on your thigh. He looks up at you with his best puppy eyes. You know Satoru well enough to recognize the lustful glint underneath the seemingly innocent gaze. “I haven’t seen you all day, s’not fair. I just miss you.”

“It’s been 4 hours, Satoru.” 

“Even one second not being by your side feels like an eternity,” he laments. An overstatement, but Satoru holds every ounce of that statement true in his heart and soul. “I’ll make it quick, promise. Just need to have a little bit of you and I’ll leave you alone.” 

Satoru isn’t a beggar. But he’ll be anything you need him to be, especially if it means getting a taste of you. 

You both know he won’t leave you alone. The both of you also know that Satoru knows how to work his mouth and your body. He’s already bringing his lips to your clit before you can even nod. 

“Good girl.” 

Satoru makes out with your pussy sloppily, dragging his tongue along your clit and inside your fluttering hole. His eyes roll back into his skull as you weave your hands through his hair, tugging harshly. Satoru’s brain is practically fried as you squeeze your thighs on either side of his head. His cock throbs against the confines of his sweatpants, tip staining the gray fabric. He palms himself to provide some friction, imagining that it were your hands touching him instead. 

“T-toru, I’m so close,” you cry. Satoru laughs meanly.

“Yeah?” he coos, long fingers working their way inside your dripping pussy. “You’re so sensitive. We just started and you wanna cum already?” 

“Please.”

“Told you we’d be quick. Cum for me, princess.” 

He doesn’t let up as you clench around his fingers. He fucks them into you even faster, making sure to hit that spongey little spot in you with each thrust. He sucks your clit until you’re shaking, refusing to let go even as you try to pull away. 

Once he’s decided he’s tortured you enough, he pulls back ever so slightly, reveling in your debauched look. It would’ve been even better if you’d accidentally left your camera or microphone on, so everyone could know how good Satoru gives it to you. (He’s seen a few flirtatious messages from your coworkers via Slack.) Oh well, that’s just an opportunity for next time, he supposes. 

He doesn’t bother leaving. To your surprise, (and Satoru’s delight) your team wraps up as soon as you turn your camera back on. A few beats pass by before he breaks the silence. “It’s technically your lunch break, right? How about we finish what we started?”

a/n: i need him in a way that is devastating to mankind. also satoru may be the king of quickies but don’t let that fool you into thinking he can’t go all night

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, translate, or recommend my works on TikTok.

[ryukatters]

Getting a Boop from you made my DAY

Getting a message from you made MY ENTIRE WEEK!!!!!!!!!!

[ryukatters]

kat i was at costco and i literally searched everywehre for the tiramisu cake and it was nowhere . like what the fuck .

I too am still on the hunt for the Costco tiramisu cake. I blame TikTok for selling it out. Hopefully we both get to try it soon 😔

[ryukatters]

cw. vampire!gojo x human!reader, suggestive but also silly and fluffy (reader is a menace lol but satoru is also a freak so they're both made for eachother), not proofread and this is way past my bedtime so sorry

imagine dating vampire!gojo, who refuses to bite you, despite how much you beg him to.

"it's too dangerous," he insists, his lips pulled into a pout, "i don't want to hurt anybody, especially you."

you try to explain to him that if he truly loved you like he said he did, he would do it (what kind of partner wouldn't?), so you try to convince him as best as you can.

as it turns out, puppy eyes work on everything except biting, special pheromone perfumes are scams (who would've thought), and the only thing your bloody nose did was have him fussing over you like a worried mother.

a part of you wants to workshop that last idea, but the other part fears that he might actually make you eat a stalk of cauliflower a day like he'd threatened the last time, and you reluctantly put it on the back burner.

it doesn't take you long to replace it.

"(y/n)," your boyfriend stands in front of you, his hands on his hips and his eyes closed in resignment, "what is this?"

he's had a long shift at work — much longer than he would've liked it to be knowing that you were at home waiting for him, but somehow, he thinks he'd prefer to be working more overtime now (nanami would be disappointed, he thinks).

"whatever do you mean?" you bat your eyelashes at him, knowing full well he can't see anything, "i just wanted to try something new."

"i can tell," there's a hint of whine in his tone, red against his ears, "what did you do?"

"oh ... i guess i tried out a new body scrub today," you chirp innocently, gleefully watching him from your spot on the couch, "i was reading about some topical uses for household objects, and i thought i'd try it out ... y'know, as those 'do it at home' sort of treatments."

(think about nanami.)

he gives you a huff in response.

"do you like it?" you ask, your hands behind your back as you stand up, approaching him until you're right in front of him.

"i think i'm going crazy," he responds truthfully. "i think you're going to drive me crazy."

his senses feel like they're stretched thin, haywire and buzzing at the frayed electrical cords, mere seconds from causing a fire.

"i like you when you're crazy," you murmur offhandedly, your arms finding them settled over his shoulders, circling around his neck, "could be a little crazier in my opinion."

"'do it yourself' projects are all the rage now, 'toru," you smile to yourself, "i know you're old, but you need to keep up with the modern trends."

gojo shudders.

"baby," his voice cracks, his face warm, "i can't breathe."

his voice is breathy, and embarrassed. "did you have to use garlic?"

you continue to look at him (it's almost noble how hard he's trying to keep it together for your sake), before your human heart melts.

your eyes stare at your boyfriend, his white eyelashes struggling to be kept closed against his mortal enemy, his cheeks scarlet red in mortification, the cartilage in his neck jolting once as he swallows.

to be honest, you can barely smell the garlic-honey mix you used as your scrub that afternoon; you knew that satoru's sense of smell was more potent than yours, but you didn't know it was that strong.

...okay, maybe garlic was overkill.

"alright," you resign, flippantly taking your arms off of him, "i'm gonna take another shower now that you're home, then! i already ate dinner, but your packets should be in the fridge. let me wash up really quick and i'll join you!"

gojo satoru considers himself to be a strong man, it's hard to survive as a vampire in such a modern era, and he's not just surviving, he's living.

after you rush upstairs, he collapses onto the floor.

(maybe not anymore.)

you crawl into your bed much later than you'd promised, your hair frizzier than usual against your neck, your fingers fiddling with a fresh pair of pajamas.

"forty minutes, huh?" satoru sends you a teasing smile, playfulness practically dripping off his tone, "my poor water bill."

"you should've thought about a savings account beforehand," you roll your eyes, a giggle threatening to escape your lips as he pulls you into his arms, his head finding its place on your neck, "seriously, they've been around for the past few centuries, and somehow i'm the one teaching you about them?"

"i still don't get it," he sniffs in defiance, "credit is stupid."

"...was it funny at least?" you try to keep the small hint of embarrassment you have out of your voice, "the garlic?"

you snort, your fingers threading through his hair.

it's comfortable, being here with satoru, not just because of his silk pillows and soft duvets, but because he's there with you.

"as a concept," he laughs, that low chuckle you love so much combined with a yawn, "it would've been funnier if it happened to someone else — you know what, the next time shoko comes over, you should try it again!"

"i'll think about it." you hum absentmindedly. "you never got the point, y'know, there was one place i didn't rub it on purpose."

"really?" his eyes perk up, looking up at you.

"yeah," that awkward heat rises up in your chest again, and you laugh again to fill the silence, "i, uh, scrubbed it everywhere except my neck. i wanted you to zero in on that, or something."

your boyfriend blinks, and you flush.

"i dunno," you scramble to come up with something witty to say, "i thought it was smart at the time because i just like you that much but now looking back on it in hindsight i guess—"

"i'm sorry," he can't help but tease you again, "i wasn't going to notice with your entire body acting as a damn clove."

gojo thinks he could live the rest of his life in this bed if you were there too.

"sorry, i just feel stupid now—"

when was the last time someone tried this hard for him?

"like yeah, just shove garlic in a vamp's face, what a great idea!"

the ghost of his heart pulls at something animalistic, pure instinct driven into his veins, gold buried in his bones and property.

if gojo were alive, his heart would beat.

you whine, pressing him harder into your skin to stop him from looking at you.

"i'd love you even if you were a clove, y'know," he grins against your collarbone, "you'd be my favorite piece out of the whole bunch—"

if his can't, he'll just have to make yours work overtime.

"will you shut up?"

"i'd get to carry you around in my pocket and throw you at other vampires if they ever tried to get to close—"

"you'd throw me?"

"and you'd let me." he pushes himself off of your body, your arms sliding from his neck to his waist as his cerulean eyes stare through yours. "wouldn't you?"

(nanami would be proud.)

you think he's too smooth for his own good, somehow making you turning into a clove of garlic seem romantic (or maybe you're just in love).

"hah... seriously, what's gotten into you?" you try to hide your embarrassment, but it's impossible around satoru, especially when he looks like he wants to devour you. "garlic isn't a known aphrodisiac."

he doesn't need one for you.

"...so if i do a garlic scrub every day," you peek through your embarassment, your tone is curious, innocently so, "would you finally bite me?"

his hands grip at your mattress cover, glaring at you with no malice.

"don't you dare."

his canines push against his gums, threatening to peek out. it'd be easy, he thinks, to bite you now, especially with how willing you look — he grinds his teeth, pressing a chaste kiss against your neck before ruffling his fingers through your hair.

"we should get some sleep," he murmurs, his breath soft, "it's a cloudy day outside tomorrow, so we should go out."

"oh? where would we go?"

he thinks for a moment, before his lips curve into a mischievous smile.

"the supermarket, i think we're out of garlic."

satoru gojo, one of the most powerful vampires of his era, sleeps on his own side of the bed that night.

honestly idk what this is either 😓 moral of the story: don't write without a plan unless u want to hate urself

[ryukatters]

sighs

[ryukatters]

So are we ready to talk about how Gojo Satoru ran away from home and never stopped running or.....

[ryukatters]

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader

Content: (loosely) based on that phantom parade scene of gojo throwing a fit bc he ate something spicy after going on that treasure hunt thing (I know I’m so late idk if anyone will get that reference anymore), fluff, are they lovers or not? idk you can decide

One distressed phone call has you sprinting from your office to some random alleyway in the middle of the city. You’re nervous to see what could make the Gojo Satoru sound so…afraid?

The grip around your phone tightens as you navigate through the bustling streets of Tokyo. You zoom in on the map, trying to sort out which little lines will take you to Gojo’s live location (which he insisted on sharing with you months ago, on the basis that you did the same.)

It doesn’t take you long to zero in on him.

“What took you so long?” Gojo cries out, “I’ve been dying for the last 15 minutes!”

You scan him for any signs for external injury. But that’s impossible, you think, he’d never let his technique down long enough for that to happen. Internally maybe? Did he ingest poison? Was it starting to affect his brain? You’re not sure what you’d explain to Jujutsu Headquarters if you bring the strongest back to them dead.

“I think this might be the end,” he sniffles. “There’s still so many things I want to do. Like trying that new teppanyaki place in Roppongi. Hey, you think they’re taking reservations right now?”

It’s decided. The only thing wrong with Satoru Gojo is his frivolousness. Maybe what’s wrong with you is that you’re willing to drop everything for him at the simple call of your name.

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he chirps.

“Satoru.”

“Yes, my pookie bear?”

You click your teeth in annoyance. “Don’t call me that. What happened?”

“Attempted murder,” Gojo deadpans. Instead of elaborating, he pulls out a piece of candy from his pocket and unwraps it. He proffers the treat to you, slapping your hand away with a frown when you reach for it. “Say ahhh~”

You roll your eyes and sigh. You know him well enough to know he wouldn’t poison you. Knowing Satoru, he probably just got a treat that wasn’t sweet enough for his eccentric tastes. Gojo shoves the candy in your mouth the minute you open it the smallest amount. He waits for your critique, nodding as he says, “Gross, right? Why is it so spicy? I thought my tongue was going to fall off.”

Your eyes light up as the flavors of the curry-flavored candy dance in your mouth. “This is so good! You’re such a baby, Gojo. It’s not even spicy.”

Horror paints Satoru’s face. “It is! My mouth feels like hell. Your tastebuds must be broken or something,” Gojo huffs, crossing his arms petulantly, giving him the appearance of an overgrown child. “And who makes curry flavored candy anyways?”

“Why don’t you just use your technique or something? Make it so that the food doesn’t touch your tongue?”

Gojo looks at you incredulously before he blanches. “Unlike you, I actually care about what I put inside my body.”

You return the look tenfold, eyebrows raising in disbelief. “Oh really?”

“Really really.”

“Then what’s in that bag you’re holding?”

You nearly miss the barely imperceptible shift in Gojo’s blindfold as his eyes widen, hiding said plastic bag full of confectioneries behind him, hidden from your prying gaze.

“Sweets stimulate my brain! You know that. It’s brain food.”

“Uh huh.”

“C’monnnn,” Satoru whines, bringing forth said bag, revealing all the various goodies he’d collected throughout the hour. “Are you cruel enough to deny a guy a sweet treat? Ijichi’s been bitching all morning about all these missions!”

Gojo doesn’t give you a chance to retort. “I finished my missions in record time! I think that’s means for a celebration. A prize, even.” He lifts his blindfold up then, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You bite. “What kind of prize?”

Satoru eyes you up and down with a saccharine smile. He pretends to be deep in thought, “a kiss, maybe?”

You follow suit, crossing your arms as you hum. “Hmm…I don’t know. Seems to me you’ve won a bunch of things today already.”

“Not enough.”

He grabs you by the arms, pulling you until you’re just a breath away. His hands slide down to your own, enveloping them in a warmth that makes you tremble with want. “Indulge me a little, will you?”

Satoru knows that you will. You always do. Even the most unreasonable of requests, like asking you to kiss him after you ran a marathon through Tokyo just to find out he was throwing a fit over confectioneries.

He lets you close the distance, savoring the way your scent invades his senses.

He pulls away rather abruptly, a delicate frown painting his features. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

“My mouth feels like it’s on fire again,” he pouts.

[ryukatters]

NVM

Plssss why am I not showing up in the tags 🥲🥲🥲🥲

[ryukatters]

Plssss why am I not showing up in the tags 🥲🥲🥲🥲

[ryukatters]

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader

Content: (loosely) based on that phantom parade scene of gojo throwing a fit bc he ate something spicy after going on that treasure hunt thing (I know I’m so late idk if anyone will get that reference anymore), fluff, are they lovers or not? idk you can decide

One distressed phone call has you sprinting from your office to some random alleyway in the middle of the city. You’re nervous to see what could make the Gojo Satoru sound so…afraid?

The grip around your phone tightens as you navigate through the bustling streets of Tokyo. You zoom in on the map, trying to sort out which little lines will take you to Gojo’s live location (which he insisted on sharing with you months ago, on the basis that you did the same.)

It doesn’t take you long to zero in on him.

“What took you so long?” Gojo cries out, “I’ve been dying for the last 15 minutes!”

You scan him for any signs for external injury. But that’s impossible, you think, he’d never let his technique down long enough for that to happen. Internally maybe? Did he ingest poison? Was it starting to affect his brain? You’re not sure what you’d explain to Jujutsu Headquarters if you bring the strongest back to them dead.

“I think this might be the end,” he sniffles. “There’s still so many things I want to do. Like trying that new teppanyaki place in Roppongi. Hey, you think they’re taking reservations right now?”

It’s decided. The only thing wrong with Satoru Gojo is his frivolousness. Maybe what’s wrong with you is that you’re willing to drop everything for him at the simple call of your name.

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he chirps.

“Satoru.”

“Yes, my pookie bear?”

You click your teeth in annoyance. “Don’t call me that. What happened?”

“Attempted murder,” Gojo deadpans. Instead of elaborating, he pulls out a piece of candy from his pocket and unwraps it. He proffers the treat to you, slapping your hand away with a frown when you reach for it. “Say ahhh~”

You roll your eyes and sigh. You know him well enough to know he wouldn’t poison you. Knowing Satoru, he probably just got a treat that wasn’t sweet enough for his eccentric tastes. Gojo shoves the candy in your mouth the minute you open it the smallest amount. He waits for your critique, nodding as he says, “Gross, right? Why is it so spicy? I thought my tongue was going to fall off.”

Your eyes light up as the flavors of the curry-flavored candy dance in your mouth. “This is so good! You’re such a baby, Gojo. It’s not even spicy.”

Horror paints Satoru’s face. “It is! My mouth feels like hell. Your tastebuds must be broken or something,” Gojo huffs, crossing his arms petulantly, giving him the appearance of an overgrown child. “And who makes curry flavored candy anyways?”

“Why don’t you just use your technique or something? Make it so that the food doesn’t touch your tongue?”

Gojo looks at you incredulously before he blanches. “Unlike you, I actually care about what I put inside my body.”

You return the look tenfold, eyebrows raising in disbelief. “Oh really?”

“Really really.”

“Then what’s in that bag you’re holding?”

You nearly miss the barely imperceptible shift in Gojo’s blindfold as his eyes widen, hiding said plastic bag full of confectioneries behind him, hidden from your prying gaze.

“Sweets stimulate my brain! You know that. It’s brain food.”

“Uh huh.”

“C’monnnn,” Satoru whines, bringing forth said bag, revealing all the various goodies he’d collected throughout the hour. “Are you cruel enough to deny a guy a sweet treat? Ijichi’s been bitching all morning about all these missions!”

Gojo doesn’t give you a chance to retort. “I finished my missions in record time! I think that’s means for a celebration. A prize, even.” He lifts his blindfold up then, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You bite. “What kind of prize?”

Satoru eyes you up and down with a saccharine smile. He pretends to be deep in thought, “a kiss, maybe?”

You follow suit, crossing your arms as you hum. “Hmm…I don’t know. Seems to me you’ve won a bunch of things today already.”

“Not enough.”

He grabs you by the arms, pulling you until you’re just a breath away. His hands slide down to your own, enveloping them in a warmth that makes you tremble with want. “Indulge me a little, will you?”

Satoru knows that you will. You always do. Even the most unreasonable of requests, like asking you to kiss him after you ran a marathon through Tokyo just to find out he was throwing a fit over confectioneries.

He lets you close the distance, savoring the way your scent invades his senses.

He pulls away rather abruptly, a delicate frown painting his features. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

“My mouth feels like it’s on fire again,” he pouts.

[ryukatters]

I MISS U KAT ☹️🫂🤍

I MISS YOU TOO HOW ARE YOU DOING 😢😢