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yanderenightmare · 11 months

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Nanami Kento

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap

AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~

fem reader

You started coming to his home office once a week.

Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face.

But you came around to like him soon enough.

He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started.

And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.

When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.

He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.

Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.

You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.

He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat.

He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.

He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more.

He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.

He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~”

He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off.

It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.

He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.

He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.

“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.

His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.

You take it in with doe eyes.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”

You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”

He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”

“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.

“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy.

But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap.

“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.”

He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow.

“There you go, just like that. Good.”

You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.

Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?

You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.

So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...

You'll do it.

You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.

It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.

In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.

“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.

“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”

You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”

“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”

You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly.

He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”

You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips.

It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.

He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.

“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.

He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.

But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.

“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.

Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking.

“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.

Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk.

He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.

You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.

“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees.

His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.

He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.

You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.

“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.

“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”

But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.

“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.

You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.

“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile.

You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.

But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.

“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.

His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.

He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt.

“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.

Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.

The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.

You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.

You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.

There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you �� having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath.

He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing.

It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide.

He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you.

It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.

Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.

He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.

You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.

“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips.

You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.

“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.

He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.

“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum.

He smiles.

“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”

You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.

But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.

“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”

You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”

You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”

sequel

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami x reader #yandere kento nanami #yandere kento #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #kento smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu nanami

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rafesgfs · 26 days

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bsf!rafe who's wrapped around your finger, who doesn't care when his friends tease him about being whipped for you. who comes to your every beck and call, looking for any way to make your life easier, because that's his only reason for existing. to make your life better.

bsf!rafe who's hopelessly in love with you, always on the verge of confessing to you but never having the courage to do so. who spoils you with anything and everything you ever wanted. who makes a fool of himself following you around in the hopes that you love him the same way but always knowing you don't.

at a party, he spots you with your friends and he gets up, habitually getting you something to drink. he stalks closer to you with your favorite drink in a solo cup, listening to your friends.

"he follows you around all the time. i don't get how you don't get annoyed of him." your friend says, laughing.

"seriously, it's like watching a puppy begging for attention." another added, giving you a look. "it's pathetic."

and all you do is laugh in response.

he can't find it in himself to get hurt because it is the truth. he craved your attention so badly that he practically preened whenever you gave him a bit of it. rafe's so wrapped up in you that he couldn't even fault you for not defending him.

he waits a few minutes before he walks over and hands you the drink, pretending as if he's heard nothing. he melts when you give him a smile and a kiss on his cheek, mind blanking as your soft, soft lips touch his skin. you thank him, dismissing him with a hand and he reluctantly makes his way back to topper and kelce.

bsf!rafe who's bored at the party and somehow ends up talking to sofia, a waitress at the country club. he doesn't look at her when she talks, observing the party from the balcony, everything she's saying going in one ear and out the other.

he doesn't even register her touching his arm, pulling away when he sees you staring at him, your eyes drifting to the hand on his arm. he excuses himself from her, needing to be in your presence before his anxiety gets to him. needing you to soothe his worries away; worries that came from being away from you.

bsf!rafe who sees you talking with sofia instead, hides behind a tree like a creepy stalker whilst he eavesdrops for the second time that night, peeking from the side of the tree to look at you.

"do you like rafe, sofia?" you ask, voice sweet, smile even sweeter. your eyes glint with something unfamiliar as sofia nods.

"i mean, he's cute—"

you giggle, touching sofia's hair and for a second, he wonders if you were going to kiss her, jealously bubbling in his stomach. he hated watching you kiss other people, even if it was a pogue who didn't deserve a lick of your attention.

within a second, your smile drops and you glare at her. without a word, you brought your fist to your eye, punching it hard. sofia gasped in shock, unable to move as she watched you repeat the same motion three more times.

"help! someone help!" you call out with a saccharine smirk on your face, your tone not matching your words. you hold a hand to your reddening eye as people come.

rafe emerges from his hiding spot, concerned and shocked, taking you in his arms and examining your eye. people came, the music turned off as people rallied behind you, eyes glancing between you and sofia.

"that bitch hit me! someone call the cops!" you wailed out, burying your face against rafe's chest.

bsf!rafe who shields you with his arms, eyes narrowing at sofia as someone calls the cops. his mind is spinning, confused but mostly concerned for your wellbeing. he comforts you, kissing your eye in hopes it wouldn't bruise over, but with the big emerald ring on your finger—the one he had gotten you for your friendiversary—he knew it would turn blue by the end of the night.

bsf!rafe who holds you as you tell the cops what happened, sniffling and touching your eye. who listens as you tell them about sofia getting violent and hitting you until you called out for help.

bsf!rafe who saw the whole thing but lied, telling the officer the same thing you did, earning a soft smile from you. who watched you watch sofia getting cuffed and thrown in the police car with a small smirk on your lips and possessiveness in your eyes.

you stare up at him as soon as the police car is out of view, wrapping your arms around his neck. "thank you, rafey. for helping me."

bsf!rafe who will always look out for you, taking your side against others. who you keep on a short leash, never wanting his love but always using it to make yourself happy.

"anything for you," he replies, smiling.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #bsf!rafe #toxic!reader

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gorejo · 1 year

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▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au

synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.

content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.

The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.

“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror.

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.

Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.

“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.

“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment.

“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.

“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.

It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.

College reunions, who looks forward to that?

There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.

One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project.

Poor kid was fired the next day.

The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened.

No wonder it was so fucking loud that night.

Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital.

Never in hell were you going to show up alone.

And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.

<< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!!

Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.

Maybe it was an excuse?

Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it?

But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world.

Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”

Was that already eight years ago?

But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…

… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.

“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.

Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.

“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.

“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”

“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”

“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”

“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.

“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging.

“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”

“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.

“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed.

Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?”

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.

“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off.

“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.

“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”

“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”

“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back.

“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?”

“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.

“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.

Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”

“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.

But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”

“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”

“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”

“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.

“You think so?”

“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”

“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers.

“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.

“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”

Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”

“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression

“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.

“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.

“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.

“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”

Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”

Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.

“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.

“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.

“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”

Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”

Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat.

“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko,

<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.

Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”

—

Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours.

They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.

But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.

Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career.

He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish.

When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam.

With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.

And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl.

Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”

“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”

“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”

“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes.

“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”

“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”

“Yea, why so?”

“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!”

Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you.

For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you.

Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number.

And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.

“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”

All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes.

But with him, you experienced all your firsts.

Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled, “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream.

You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day.

Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?”

Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you.

Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity.

To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.

He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart.

Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.

You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him.

So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it.

And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.

From: Mom.

>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled.

To: Minako.

<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako?

From: Minako.

>> Whenever! I can meet now!

>> Is this about our potential engagement?

To Minako.

<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.

You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.

The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.

You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”

how long was this going on for?

Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?

Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved?

Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?

The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.

... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day.

Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”

“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.

The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb.

After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”

Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.

“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”

“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”

“Says who?” the man challenged.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”

“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.

"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking.

“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”

“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”

Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.

After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him.

To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience.

To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.

—-

“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head.

Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.

You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl.

Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him.

But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.

Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way —

Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor.

“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?”

You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice.

Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered.

“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving.

You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.

“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.

Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week.

“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws.

Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs.

“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?”

“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot.

A ring? you wondered.

“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.

“Had no excuse not to come.”

“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”

“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.

Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”

Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes.

Since when did he have that ring?

Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.

Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —

“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”

Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.

Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”

“What are you talking —” you stammered.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat.

“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.

“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”

“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?

“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”

“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.

“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.

All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.

“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”

“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”

"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.

"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.

"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"

" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.

"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.

"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"

“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?”

“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.

“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.

“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.

His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"

“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.

You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore…

“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.

The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair, his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.

“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.

“… I love you,” you confessed.

Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”

...

You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.

Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.

Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.

“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.

Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring

“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.

“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again.

“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.

“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.

Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.

Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile.

And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.

“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you.

Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."

At least for this night, he was yours.

You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.

And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip.

Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed?

“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.

“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.

“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.

"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.

“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum.

His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.

Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.

“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”

You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.

“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.

And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.

“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.

“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured.

“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head.

Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.

Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.

“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.

Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.

“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.

…

How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago.

“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?”

Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.

“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”

Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.

“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”

“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.

“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”

“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.

“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.

Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.

"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."

"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.

“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.

“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”

Seven.

He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,

“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out.

You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.

“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.

“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.

"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms.

—-

Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.

Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.

Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.

Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.

His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.

His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.

Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing.

Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.

Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night.

“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.

“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.

You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.

And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,

“I’m sorry…”

—-

It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel.

You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.

Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.

You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.

You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.

You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.

And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,

“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”

“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.

Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.

You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish.

But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.

Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.

Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.

Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?

“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.

Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.

“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.

“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”

“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked

“Well, she did ask about us."

“And… did she threaten you or anything?”

“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled.

Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."

And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.

“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.

"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”

"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.

"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."

“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.

“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.

“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.

“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”

Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”

“B-but you came late to the reunion.”

“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.

“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.

“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."

"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."

"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”

“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.

“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.

“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.

“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”

"I'd like that," you whispered.

“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes.

And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,

“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”

author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells

again, i hope you enjoyed it!!

p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #darkmode.#forbes30!gojo

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0mg-bird · 3 months

Text

Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!”

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over her upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #top gun fandom #jake seresin x y/n #glen powell

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idkyetxoxo · 28 days

Text

Jacaerys Velaryon - Leap of Fate

Summary - A young woman's daring climb over a wall to escape an arranged union leads to an unexpected encounter with her betrothed himself. What begins as a night of escape becomes the start of an enchanting story of love and destiny.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2102

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

I took a deep breath, my gaze locked on the stone wall ahead. The sky, darkening with the approach of night, cast eerie, elongated shadows that flickered like ghosts on the rough surface.

My palms grew sweaty, and a shiver of anxiety ran down my spine. The height of the wall seemed to mock my courage.

"Alright, if I can just make that jump and haul myself up, I should be able to manage the rest from there," I murmured to myself, my voice tinged with a mixture of hope and trepidation.

With a resolute nod, I steeled myself, my teeth clenched in a grimace of concentration. My fingers dug into the wall's jagged surface, desperately searching for any crevice that would hold.

The coarse texture of the stone scraped against my skin, each movement sending a jolt of pain up my arms. I glanced down, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Seven hells," I muttered under my breath as the dizzying height made itself known.

I pressed on, scaling the wall as best as I could. Halfway up, I dared to believe I was making progress, but fate had other plans. My foot slipped on a precarious rock, and I felt myself plummet to the ground.

I landed with a jarring thud, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.

A muffled cry escaped me as I lay sprawled on the ground, staring up at the indigo expanse of the night sky. The stars seemed to mock my plight.

With a groan, I pushed myself up, brushing off my cloak in frustration. Realizing it was more of a hindrance than a help, I tossed it aside, my frustration evident.

Determined not to be thwarted, I tried again, managing to reach just under halfway before pausing to reassess.

"What are you doing, my lady?" a voice called out suddenly.

I yelped in surprise, my fingers losing their grip as I scrambled to regain my balance. In a graceless tumble, I crashed to the ground.

I lay there, staring up at the heavens, lamenting my misfortune as the voice approached.

"Don't touch me!" I snapped, my voice sharp as he reached out to help me. He quickly withdrew, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"What are you doing?" he asked again, and I sighed heavily, glancing from the wall to him.

"Scaling the wall, what else does it look like?" I replied, my exasperation clear. He seemed taken aback by my tone.

"Why are you scaling the wall at this hour?" he asked, his tone genuine but puzzled. I considered his question for a moment before a sudden idea sparked in my mind.

"Yes, that's perfect!" I exclaimed, turning to him with a bright, hopeful smile. His sceptical gaze met mine.

"You could give me a boost up, and then I can navigate the tricky part," I suggested. He took a step back, extinguishing my hopeful smile with his reluctance.

"No," he said firmly and I groaned in frustration.

"You are truly a horrible person," I declared, my voice laden with annoyance. "How can you see a lady in distress and not offer assistance?"

His reaction was a surprising burst of laughter, a reaction that did nothing but further annoy me.

"If you tell me why you're attempting such a daring escape, I promise I will help you afterwards," he said, crossing his arms with a look of genuine curiosity.

I pursed my lips, contemplating whether to reveal my predicament.

"If you must know," I began, as he listened intently. "My family has betrothed me to the prince."

I watched his eyes widen slightly. "I do not wish to marry him. I have never even met him. What if he's ugly or dull, or worse, a terrible person?" I finished, my irritation clear.

Instead of offering sympathy, he laughed again—this time, with genuine amusement.

"I'm glad my predicament amuses you, but you promised to help me, so you must," I insisted, gesturing for him to come closer. He obliged, but then abruptly halted.

"I will not assist you over the wall," he said, his tone resolute. I sighed in exasperation, feeling as though this ordeal would never end, my patience quickly wearing thin.

"I will not help my future wife escape our union," he added.

The weight of his words hit me like a blow, and my eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief swirling in my mind as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Prince Jacaerys?" I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

The colour drained from my face as the realization settled. I had been scaling the wall to escape my own arranged marriage, only to find that the prince, my betrothed, had caught me and was now standing right in front of me.

My eyes swept over him, taking in every detail. He was nothing like I had imagined. Far from the monster I had conjured in my mind, he was undeniably handsome, with an effortless charisma that immediately dispelled my worst fears.

I couldn't help but wonder how I had ever thought of running from someone like him.

"My prince, I truly apologize," I stuttered, attempting an awkward curtsy.

I was painfully aware of how absurd the situation was, struggling to reconcile my desperate escape with the reality of facing my would-be husband.

He watched me with a mix of amusement and curiosity, clearly enjoying the irony of our encounter.

I fumbled for the right words, my mind racing to understand how to address the man who was both my captor and the very reason I had been trying to flee.

He watched me with a new, softer gaze, and a genuine smile curved his lips.

"No one told me you were this beautiful," he said, his voice warm and approving. "In fact, you might be too beautiful. People will talk."

My cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and I fumbled with my words as I attempted a modest, "Thank you." The compliment, unexpected and sincere, left me momentarily flustered.

He arched an eyebrow playfully. "Do you think I am ugly and dull?" His question, though lighthearted, made me acutely aware of how disoriented I was, struggling to maintain my composure.

"My prince," I stammered, my voice trembling with earnestness, "I spoke on impulse. I truly did not mean anything I said." My confession was met with a soft chuckle from him, the sound both reassuring and disarming.

"Would you still like assistance up the wall?" he asked, his tone now imbued with a teasing edge.

I glanced from the daunting height of the wall to him, and then back to the wall, shaking my head in resignation.

He grinned, clearly amused by the turn of events. His expression softened, and he took a step closer, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of mischief and warmth.

"Then perhaps we should discuss our next course of action," he suggested, the lightness in his tone making the situation seem less dire. He leaned slightly closer, his gaze both curious and engaging.

"What troubled you enough to consider scaling a wall to escape me?" he asked, a playful edge in his voice that made it difficult not to smile at his jest.

I hesitated, then answered simply, "I do not know you."

He clicked his tongue thoughtfully, his expression shifting to one of contemplation. "You are correct," he said, nodding slowly. "We can change that."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts before offering a glimpse into his life. "I enjoy training with my brother Luke," he began, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Although he's not the best sparring partner, he tends to be too gentle in his approach. I also find great joy in soaring through the skies on my dragon, Vermax and, above all, I have a deep fondness for cake, especially lemon cake."

I stared at him for a moment, slightly taken aback by the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. His casual, almost endearing revelations seemed to defy the seriousness of our earlier exchange.

"Now, you must tell me something about yourself, my lady," he prompted, breaking the silence.

I shook myself from my daze and nodded slowly. "I enjoy reading," I began, trying to match his openness. "Occasionally, I like to go swimming in the open sea and most of all, I treasure the time I spend with my kitten, Biscuit."

He smiled warmly at my response. "We must arrange a meeting between Vermax and Biscuit," he suggested with a playful glint in his eye.

I raised an eyebrow. "And what if Vermax thinks Biscuit is his next snack?" The thought of my kitten being mistaken for a dragon's treat was not entirely comforting.

He laughed quietly, the sound rich and melodic. "I would protect Biscuit with all my strength," he assured me, his voice earnest.

"But," he continued, with a mischievous gleam, "if Biscuit were to take a daring leap onto Vermax's back, I might have to step in to mediate a peaceful introduction."

I chuckled, the image of Biscuit attempting such a bold manoeuvre brought a reluctant smile to my face. "Well, if you're prepared to play dragon diplomat, I suppose I can trust you with my precious kitten."

He placed a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture. "Consider it my solemn vow," he declared with mock seriousness.

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension of our earlier conversation melting away. "I'll hold you to that, my prince. I'd hate to have to explain why my kitten became dragon fodder."

Our laughter was abruptly interrupted by a clap of thunder, and I jumped slightly at the sudden sound. The sky was now darkening rapidly.

"Perhaps we can continue this conversation inside," he suggested, his tone both practical and inviting. "Now that you've decided not to run off." I bit my lip, nodding sheepishly at the jeer.

As a small downpour began, I squinted to locate my discarded cloak. Before I could even bend down to retrieve it, he had already picked it up.

"Allow me," he said, his voice gentle and courteous as he approached me.

With the grace of a true gentleman, he draped the cloak around my shoulders, his touch both tender and precise. The fabric enveloped me in a comforting embrace, and I nodded appreciatively as he deftly fastened the strings, securing it snugly against the chill of the rain.

As we began to walk toward the shelter of the castle, he glanced at me with a thoughtful expression.

"Perhaps we should have a maester check you out," he suggested casually, his tone light but laced with concern.

I turned to him, raising my brows in surprise. "A maester?"

He nodded, his gaze shifting to me with a hint of amusement. "I saw you take a few tumbles," he admitted, a small, bemused smile playing on his lips as he gently pulled a small leaf out of my hair.

I swallowed my embarrassment, a flush creeping up my cheeks. Before I could react, I reached up and smacked the leaf from his hand with a playful swat.

"How mortifying," I muttered, trying to mask my chagrin with a sheepish grin.

He chuckled softly, the sound a gentle remedy to the lingering tension between us.

"I assure you, there's no need to be embarrassed," he said, his eyes dancing with mirth. "In fact, this will make for a rather delightful story to share with our future children."

His words caught me off guard, and a deeper blush crept up my cheeks at the thought of such an intimate future. I quickly looked away, my gaze dropping to the rain-slicked stones beneath our feet. The steady patter of rain seemed to echo the rapid beat of my heart.

"Perhaps" I murmured the words barely audible.

"Could we possibly agree that this little escapade remains between us?" I asked, "I'd really appreciate it if this interaction wasn't mentioned to my mother or father."

He nodded, a knowing smile curling at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I believe it would be best not to announce your eagerness to escape me. Consider it a secret between us."

As we continued to walk towards the castle, the rain began to fall more heavily, but the shared laughter and understanding between us made the journey seem lighter.

In the years that followed, the tale of Prince Jacaerys and his wife would become a cherished legend, a story celebrated across generations.

Our tale became a beloved fairy tale, told and retold to children and adults alike.

It was a story of two genuine souls, intertwined in a narrative that captured the essence of love and destiny, our lives a testament to the magic of finding connection amidst the most unforeseen circumstances.

A/n - Yes this is inspired by that iconic scene of George and Charlotte in Queen Charlotte

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #team black #prince jacaerys #jace x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys strong

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tbaluver · 1 month

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Hi ree 🤭

Can I request y/n flinching during an argument when the boys make a sudden movement. Give it a happy ending pls.

I'm craving some angst with fluff on the side.

Has to be served by u tho 😭🌹

Flinching During An Argument- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: slight angst with some fluff/ comfort ! a/n: HIHI TEE !! ily (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope this was okay and i hope i served and if not im soso sorry and this doesn't exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ��༎ຶ ) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

It was your first argument with Xavier and you’d never seen this side of him. His usually warm, soft eyes narrow into a piercing glare, losing their usual kindness and sleepiness to it. You had always believed that you and Xavier would never argue, yet here you were, caught in a heated argument. Frustration had clouded both your minds, leaving both to forget what the initial problem even was. The emotional exhaustion was palpable and you both were weary from the conflict.

In an attempt to reconcile, Xavier reached out to pull you closer and offer an apology. His sudden gesture was unexpected and made you flinch. The movement was too abrupt, causing you a momentary surge of anxiety. You recoiled back slightly, your body tense.

His eyes widened in shock at your reaction. Instantly, he withdrew his arm, staring down at his hands as if they had betrayed him. Hurt and confusion on his face were palpable, as if he committed an offense. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, “I’m so sorry if I scared you. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

The frustration that had marked his earlier expression melted away and was replaced by the tender, sincere face you knew and loved. As your mind began to process the sudden shift and the context of his actions, you realized that his outstretched arm had been an attempt to offer comfort.

“I’m sorry you thought I’d hurt you,” Xavier says, his voice weighted with sincerity. “I promise I will never do that. I don’t know what I did to make you feel this way, but I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to be a better boyfriend.”

Seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes, you stepped forward closer to him, your heart aching for him. Gently, you cupped his cheek in your hand, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. “You’re not a bad boyfriend,” You reassured him, your voice soft and soothing. Xavier nuzzled into your hand, a small grateful small forming on his lips. "I know you would be the last person in this world to hurt me. It was just out of instinct, I’m sorry.”

The tension between you began to dissolve, bridging the gap that had formed during the argument. "Then let’s promise to never argue ever again,” He says, locking your eyes with yours. “I didn’t like it one bit.”

You nod with a soft smile as he reaches out to take your hand in his, holding it close. “We’ll find a better way to handle things. I love you too much to let anything come between us.” You both drew closer, wrapping each other in an embrace. He presses his lips gently on your forehead to remind you.

Zayne:

Zayne loves you very much. He may not always express it in words, but his actions always speak volumes and the way he takes care of you shows how deeply he cares. Most of your arguments tend to revolve around your wellbeing and the way you don't take care of yourself properly. When you're stubborn and brush off his concerns, it frustrates him further.

Tonight it seems like the frustration built up and Zayne who usually speaks with a gentle tone towards you, finds himself slightly raising his voice for the first time. It was out of a mix of desperation and concern for you. He raises his hand to fix the collar of his button up shirt. He tugs at the collar and tries to smooth it out, adjusting it. However, the sudden movement is mistaken by you in the heat of the moment. Seeing Zayne’s hand come up, your heart skips a beat and a rush of panic comes through you. At the moment, the gesture felt threatening as if he was trying to strike you. But deep down you know Zayne would never hurt you but rather the fear of the unknown makes you flinch. You take a step back, your eyes wide and your body tense.

Zayne notices your reaction and his face falls. The realization of his innocent gesture was misinterpreted and hits him like a wave. His throat tightens and he struggles to find the right words as he tries to reassure you. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” His hand lowers and he swallows hard. His eyes were a mix of regret and exhaustion. The tension in his gaze is palpable, clear even without words. “I’m sorry,” He says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just fixing my collar. I would never hurt you. Please, don’t think that. Forgive me my love.” His eyes lock onto yours, pleading for you to see the truth in his expression.

You can see the pain in his eyes, his usually composed demeanor has cracked under the weight of your misinterpretation. The fear in your chest slowly begins to disappear as you recognize his genuine remorse and the depth of his feelings.

As you speak, your body relaxes. "I'm sorry. I don't really know why I did that" You admit, letting out a sigh. You blink a few times, trying to prevent the tears that threaten to spill.

Zayne watches you with a soft, concerned look. He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you. "May I?-"

You nod, and he closes the distance between you, enveloping you in his arms. He pulls you in a little tighter, his hands resting soothingly on your back.

"It's alright you do not have to know." He sighs, pressing a kiss at the top of your head as he rubs soothing circles on your back. "I promise you, I would never do such a thing. Please let me make it right my love."

Rafayel:

Usually your arguments were nothing more than just playful banter, something that was brushed off with laughter. But today, something was different about this argument. The conversation escalated into a heated argument, with both of you frustrated. The words you threw at each other were sharper, the silence afterward heavier.

Rafayel’s hands lifted to ruffle his hair out of frustration but it seemed to heighten the tension. You backed away, closing your eyes and turning your head, trying to shield yourself from a possible hit or a burn.

Seeing your reaction, Rafayel’s expression immediately softened. His hand dropped to his sides, and felt the sting of regret and concern pierce through his frustrations. He realized the impact of his actions so he steps forward with a sense of urgency, his heart pounding with a mix of worry and desperation. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you to reassure his need for you.

You nestled into his chest but your body remained tense from the argument’s intensity. “Cutie…You know I would never hurt you, right?” His voice was a mix of hurt and worry, trembling slightly as if his worst nightmare came true—losing you again. The thought of having you scared of him, after losing you once before, made him desperate to keep you in his embrace to prevent you from ever leaving him ever again.

He gently pulls away, his hands cupping your face with tenderness. His fingers stroked your cheeks softly and his gaze filled with a mixture of relief as he saw you relax against him. “You don't need to be scared,” He murmured, “I’m here to protect you. I promise I'll make it up to you.” The sincerity in his eyes and the gentle caress of his hands were a silent vow to ensure you felt safe and loved.

Later on that day he apologized in Glubglubnese, Popoposh, and Blublublun to start off by making it up to you.

Sylus:

You and Sylus had your fair share of arguments and you both always managed to talk things through and reach a compromise. This time, however, this disagreement delta relentless back-and forth that seemed to stretch on forever.

His scowl and the tone in his voice was unsettling. The room fell into an uneasy silence until Sylus brought a hand to his forehead, massaging his temples. At that moment, you made a mistake. To his hand raised, you flinched, fearing it was to use his evol on you or something worse.

Instinctively, you crouched down and shielded yourself with your arms, overwhelmed by a wave of shame and fear. You knew deep down that he would never hurt you, but your reflexes were too strong to ignore. With your face hidden, you missed the hurt and regret that clouded Sylus’s eyes. He took a deep breath, his voice softening as he stepped closer to you.

“Sweetie….” He says, his tone filled with sorrow. “Please, look at me.”

When you finally dared to meet his gaze, the intimidation was gone. He crouched down to your level, his expression soft and tender. He reached out, gently cupping your face and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He sighed in relief knowing you didn’t flinch this time when he approached you.

“I would never hurt you,” He extends his hand, helping you up to your feet. As you stood, he pulled you into a heartfelt embrace. “How could I ever do that to someone I love so deeply? I would never forgive myself.” You rested your head against his chest and the familiar scent of him enveloped you, soothing your nerves. Sylus’s hands moved gently through your hair and traced comforting circles on your back that offered a silent apology and reassurance. In that moment, the argument was forgotten and replaced of a sense of tenderness.

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senseichaos · 8 months

Text

"PATHETIC"

SUMMARY: Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air. It was that simple. But sometimes you like to be bad. (In which Alastor broadcasts your moans live as a punishment)

GENRE: PWP, Smut, small amount of angst, a lil fluff

WARNINGS: Psychopathic Alastor, sadism, masochism, bratty reader, unprotected sex (don't!), collar, handcuffs, chains, degradation, exhibitionism, implied aftercare, humiliation, finger sucking, dub-con/non-con depending on how you see it, orgasm denial, leash, praise, let me know if there are any more!

PART 2 (aftercare)

NOT PROOF READ (YET)

____

Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air, it was that simple.

But you do it anyway. Out of pure bratty desires you defy Alastor because.. why not? What's the worst that could happen? Actually.. there is a lot of 'worst' that could in fact happen but I mean, he's not all bad.. is he?

With a small grin on your face you lay your hand against the door swiftly, knocking loudly to make sure you are alerting Alastor of a visitor. The anxiety you feel when you do this is far too real, from the clammy fingers to the feeling that this whole idea is a horrible mistake. You almost feel as if you could fall to the floor beneath you.

Yet it's so exhilarating.

"I'm afraid I'm busy!" You hear Alastor holler from beyond the door, his slightly fake kind tone obvious. He hates it when people interrupt his work. You almost giggle, feeling an odd nervous giddiness going through yourself at the prospect of opening this door.

With a sharp intake of breath, you swing open the door and close it softly behind yourself. Though behind him you can see Alastor pinch the space between his eyebrows with an annoyed smile.

He turns his head to look over at you, giving you an annoyed smile that makes you bite your lower lip.

"What is it you need, dear?" Alastor asks, adjusting one of the nobs on the recording equipment in front of him. "I am very sure I said I was busy," He sighs, looking over at you again with even more annoyance visible on his face.

"I just wanted to hangout,"

Alastor stands, horns growing with his annoyance as he takes a warning step towards you. You take a meek step back and gulp down a nervous glob of saliva.

"So you come into my studio, interrupting my broadcast-" he turns shifts into his full demon form as he moves towards you, until his face is completely in front of your face. An angry smile on his features. "All because you wanted to hang out?" He pulls you closer by a metal collar of his energy, his nose against your own as his hand clutch tightly onto the chain.

"What a bad pet you are.." He says darkly, pulling you harshly so you choke and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. For a couple moments he just pulls you with the leash, walking you towards the chair until he sits on it. He swivels it around to look at you, your own large and nervous ones looking into his.

He pushes your head up to look straight at him by the toe of his shoe, the coldness making your skin burn. You can't help but lean even closer towards him, so the toe of his show just barely digs into the skin there.

"Fawn, you were just here for my attention, weren't you?"

You consider lying to him, making yourself out to be more of a brat and possibly get a worse outcome than you're already gonna get.. but from the position you're in it's probably a bad idea. So with a sharp gulp and a blush across your cheeks you nod, biting your lower lip. Alastor grins, leaning down and taking his foot from your chin.

His gaze is rather soft, almost adoring as he tugs you closer by your chain leash. Slowly and intimately he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pointing finger making you look into his lidded eyes. With a burst of passion you suck onto his thumb, swirling your tongue against the red claw as he watches with amused eyes.

"My lovely fawn, perhaps you just need to be reminded who owns you," He purrs, pulling his thumb from your mouth (much to your dismay). With a sharp motion Alastor tangles his fingers into your hair, manhandling you face first into his desk so your ass faces him. You cry out at this movement, the roughness of his movements contrasting wildly to the care he gave you just moments before.

"Lovely. I'm afraid this punishment is not going to be pleasant, but you must learn from your mistakes," Alastor sighs, and with a swift motion of his hands bounding your wrists with cuffs of his magic. He keeps them bound onto the table so you are unable to move, causing a pain to go through your wrists when you flinch at Alastor's movements. Roughly, he pulls down your skirt and discards it across the room, leaving you bare besides from your thin pink panties.

"What a pretty color, they must be a favorite pair of yours.." you blush, trying to tilt your head to see him behind you; only for the collar to keep you from doing so. You feel his claws drag up the sides of your thighs until they meet the fabric of your panties, clawing rather dangerously at it.

"Yeah, i-i wore them for you.." You whimper with a stutter, wiggling your but at him to appear enticing. He chuckles, hooking his pointer fingers into your panties at each side.

"How lovely,"

With a harsh pull, he rips either side of your panties in half. You gasp at this, trying to stand up only for the cuffs around your hands and the collar around your neck to tighten. This causes you to bruise and cry out in pain.

"Alastor! I liked that pair.." You complain, kicking your legs in a sort of tantrum that Alastor tuts. With a sudden thrash Alastor aggressively pulls at your chain leash, making your head move up with a strain that is horribly painful.

"Bad fawns don't get treated with propriety, my dear," Alastor explains, twisting his hand so the chain slowly wraps around his hand. You can see his shadow loom closer and closer over your own figure.

"And bad fawns especially don't get any foreplay.."

What? No foreplay? He can't be serious..

Let's just say.. Alastor is rather large in the nether regions. And he knows this. Every single time you've ever fornicated he'd always done foreplay- just to open you up enough that you wouldn't be in horrid paid every time he stuck his cock in you. You can already feel the pain inside of you and he hasn't even pushed his tip to you.

"Alastor, no- I can't.."

"Don't forget my fawn.." He hooks his fingers into your hair again, forcing you to tilt your head as he whispers into your ear. His horns are larger than earlier, and his entire build in general is a lot more.. demonic.

"You wanted this.."

You don't want this anymore.

Tantalizing slow, Alastor drags his claws up your spine, taking in every shiver and whimper that you give him in turn. How dominating he feels, it's like nothing else to him he can tear as many people's souls to shreds but nothing will be the same as fucking you to pliancy. He can do horrid things to you, and you still come back for more.

He loves that in you, in his own way.

You feel his tip just barely twitch against your entrance, one hand holding your chain and his staff whilst the other presses harshly against your thigh. Wait. Why is he holding his staff.. that doesn't make any sense unless-

Fuck. He can't be serious, can he?

"Salutations dear listeners, ever so sorry for my break. But I have a treat just for you!" He says, his voice strong with the confidence of a person who has done this millions of times before. Shivering you let out a small whimper, he's really going to do this, isn't he? He's going to fuck you on air. You want to disappear. This is humiliating! This is.. humiliating. He can't be serious! You though he was better than this..

Shows you to think more of the radio demon.

In a swift movement you scream out, Alastor's entire length being shoved into you with a single thrust. You see stars of red, the area around you glowing a green that makes your head just slightly throb in pain. With another harsh thrust Alastor pulls in your leash, forcing you to look out the window.

He leans down and growls condescendingly.

"Watch the entirety of the pride ring as they hear me break you," he says and you cry out. He is. He is breaking you from the inside out, you can feel every thrust of his cock through your entire body with a painful wave. You can hardly see anymore. Everything is blurred with a wall of tears that fall down your cheeks.

"Fuck!" You cry in a distressful pleasure. You hate that this feels good. Why do you want him to break you? Why do you want him to fuck you from the inside out until all you can do is sit there and listen to him speak. You hate that you love this.

"That's it, little fawn. Let me break your whorish body.." He laughs, the hold on your chain leash making you lose a very small amount of air. You try to clutch at something, anything to ground you, but all you can feel is the warm chains bounding you to the desk beneath you, the chains bounding you to this terrible pleasure.

You can't describe it. Every thrust of his cock makes you moan, in an ashamed yet purely entangled tone. You can hear the passion in your voice as Alastor digs his claws so hard into you you bleed. Yet you can definitely hear the pain in your voice when the tip of his cock just barely hits your cervix.

"Such a pathetic thing, letting me take you like this.. you didn't even put up a fight,"

You see red, a weird loving anger.

"I fucking HATE you.."

Alastor laughs, and you can practically smell that shit-eating grin on his face.

"No," he thrusts "You," he thrusts "Dont~" he thrusts, punctuating his words and his teasing tone. You claw at the chains, wishing to rip their bounds so you can spit in his stupid beautiful face. Fuck. You can't stop this pleasure.

With every thrust comes another build of an orgasm inside of you, every thrust making that knot pull tighter and tighter. He isn't even doing anything to pleasure you, either- you just love this in a way you can't describe.

"Don't orgasm without my permission, dear," Alastor cackles, biting his lower lip "Or else..!" He teases, giving you a particularly harsh thrust as to solidify his words. You nod softly with a whimper, your neck aching from the way he's handling your leash.

You clench particularly hard, feeling that orgasm begging to be released.

"Alastor! Please let me cum.." You whimper, biting your lower lip as it trembles very slightly. He hums for a moment, as if to mock your display of obedience before clicking his tongue and leaning down.

"Beg for it," he says simply, thrusting even quicker making the urgency inside of you real. Crying, you babble for a moment, the pleasure inside of you becoming to much.

"Fuck! Please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll listen to everything you say, please! Please..." You don't think you've felt more desperate your whole entire time in hell, which is even more pathetic, really. The most desperate you've felt isn't for your life, money, or soul. It's to come on the cock of a psychopathic sadist.

"Lovely. Come for me, my dear,"

You let go with an obnoxious wail, walls clenching around Alastor so tightly you could have sworn he grunted. It's like your whole body let go, your legs give out, your shoulders relax, and your eyes roll back.

"Good fawn, how good,"

With one last thrust, Alastor buries his cock deeply inside of you, emptying his seed to the point where your stomach begins to bloat. One thing you've learnt about Alastor, when he cums, he cums a lot.

"Now then," Alastor declares after a short moment, pulling his cock from your hole and stuffing it back into his pants. "Let's get you cleaned up!" Alastor says brightly, clicking his fingers so the bounds on your neck and hands release. Though this only makes your centre of gravity shift in such a way you almost fall to the ground, if it weren't for Alastor catching you and holding you bridal style. Holding you. This is a rare occurrence indeed.

"Thank you dear listeners and I'll see you next time! Perhaps you may even get another treat, Ha ha!"

Alastor turns back to you, looking at you deep in the eyes as his sclera turn a deep black.

"Will they, my dear..?"

You gulp, shrinking in his arms.

"No, Alastor,"

He turns back to normal, giving you an adoring look as he twirls on his foot, taking you from the room.

"Lovely, now let's get a bath running!"

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader fluff #alastor oneshot #alastor #alastor x reader angst

4K notes · View notes

forsworned · 1 month

Text

part one

cw: onlyfans!simon, canon universe, cybersex, solo sex/masturbation, being simon's good girl while he has some downtime, parasocial relationship???

author's note: and let me say this once to be clear, if you don't know how to ask for a part two properly without giving some sort of positive feedback and instead demand it from me you will get a verbal spanking from me and i will embarrass you, i do not care

Your breath catches as you gawk at your phone, rereading the message. The sensation of anxiety pricks at you causing you to perspire under your pits and the temple of your forehead.

The thought of him—TacticalHeat—or Ghost or whatever the hell his name is waiting on the other side, possibly stroking himself at the notion of you joining him on a private call sends a rush of arousal up your spine.

Ping!

TacticalHeat: You still there, lovie?

Oh, fuck. You card your fingers through your hair and let out a heavy exhale. It's awful timing really. Like getting caught with your pants down...literally.

Fingers sticky with lube and your own arousal, you stretch your limbs to open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a wet wipe to clean off your hands and get a gander at the state of your appearance. It's slightly disheveled, but honestly? In a super sexy bedhead kind of way.

You wipe the corners of your eyes to remove the accumulated smudged mascara from your gruesome work day and let a sharp expire through your nose. Well, if you were going to do this, you'd at least look hot doing it.

You: Yeah, I'm here.

TacticalHeat: So what do you think, lovie...you up for it?

"Fuck!" You exclaim to yourself, not realizing that your dumbass forgot to reply to his original message. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, tracing circles in the air as you try to unscramble your mind.

You: Now works...what do you have in mind?

The three dots appear almost instantly like he's waiting for your response with the same fiery intensity that has you gripping at your phone.

TacticalHeat: I'll send you a link. I wanna see you, too.

Ghost has invited you to a Zoom meeting.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks. You hadn't expected this to escalate so quickly, to be pushed into the spotlight. And yet, the idea of him watching you is thrilling.

With trembling fingers, you adjust the lighting in your room and the camera on your phone to ensure you're getting the best quality. One last look in the mirror to smooth out your hair, and make sure your top reveals a little cleavage before you tap on the link, muddying your phone screen with oils on your finger.

Twiddling with the tripod that sits by the edge of your bed as the link loads, you clip on your phone and sit back while you wait to get accepted. He wastes no time getting you out of the waiting room and you watch as the screen shifts, and suddenly, there he is. Simon's half-lidded gaze fixates on you, his familiar skull-mask in place, but this time it's different. He's relaxed, clad in a black loose-fitted henley that outlines his taut physique, and he's manspreading in light-wash denim jeans, hands exposed and you're already aching at the sight. It's an intimate setting and the atmosphere shifts when he gets a real gander at you. His gravelly voice sends a frisson up your spine:

"There's my good girl," he purrs, and just like that you're hooked.

There's a moment where your heart drops to your ass, and you let out a little shaky breath before giving him a shy smile. His gaze doesn't waver. It's intense and focused as he drinks in every detail of your appearance. You're half wondering what he thinks of you and half focused on the hoarseness in his voice when he calls you 'good girl'. How the blood rushes to your face and your trepidation tingles on your skin.

"Hi," You finally muster up and you swear his dark eyes light up, or maybe it's the delusion that spikes into your prefrontal cortex. "I'm a bit, um, surprised that you wanted to chat like this."

His mask warps in the corner of where you assume his lips are indicating a smirk. "I like a bit of spontaneity," he says, leaning closer to the camera. "Besides I wanted to see how you would handle this."

You avert your gaze for a moment, feeling hot all over again. He notes how you suck in your bottom and how your dilated eyes flicker all over the screen, a subtle sign that your adrenaline is pumping. He wishes he could hear your heart beating through the screen.

Your fingers delicately trace over your collarbone, "what do you wanna see?" your voice drops to a sultry whisper.

His eyes darken and he takes a slow breath as fixates on you, taking in all your subtle gestures and the silkiness in your dulcet tone.

"Show me how you've missed me," he rasps. "show me what you've been doing while you've waited for me."

Christ, you want to melt into your mattress. You knew it was a playful gesture to create a more intimate atmosphere between you two, even if it wasn't true.

The challenge in his tone exhilarates you with a hint of collywobbles that infest your tummy. With a quick glance at your full-size mirror mounted on your closet door, you begin to tug at the strap of your skimpy top, teasingly revealing enough of your skin to keep him riveted.

And it works.

As you continue, you can hear the jingling of his belt being unbuckled and the sound of his zipper going down.

Your blown eyes are entranced by how he frees himself from the waistband of his briefs and you’re driveling over how the muscles under the porcelain skin of his cock twitches. He tilts his head back, transfixed on how you’re exposing your pebbled bud to him.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you squeeze your breasts between your fingers. “Every inch of you looks perfect, lovie.”

You practically fawn over his compliments. He’s praising you, watching you, getting off to you. And that feeling is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You feel liberated and exposed, knowing that he’s eagerly watching you as the lines blur. This feeling consumes you, consumes him, and soon you’re stripping off your panties and he doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that escapes his lips.

“Look at you, absolutely stunning. Every bit of you…” His tone changes when you part your silken, glistening folds. “Touch yourself for me, lovie.”

It’s a demanding tone. One that sends a frisson up your spinal column and you feel the need to please, but there’s another side of you that awakens. The kind that crawls out when you’re being railroaded by a domineering man.

“Say please,” You wave your wand around.

He softly snorts at your attempt at trying to tame him, but he humors you, “Please, lovie. I crave ya.”

And that’s enough to inflate your ego. Your fingers switch on the vibrator and you tease it over your clit, bucking your hips at your sensitive clit.

There’s a twitch in his eyes when they widen. Like the light in his head switched on. “So you’ve been playing with yourself, have you, pretty girl?” he coos, sitting up a bit more. Oh, you’ve really got his attention now.

Your heart flutters at the same rate that your pussy does when you realize he takes note of your current over aroused state. “Maybe,” you give him a coquettish grin.

As you take the initiative and push the boundaries with him, a rumbling growl emits from him. His gaze intensifies as they lock on yours with a mixture of surprise and approval. He loves a good brat.

“Is that so?” he susurrates, his tone oozes with amusement. He likes the way your pretty face glimmers with the excitement to satisfy him. “You wanna take control now, do you?”

He shifts in his seat. “Go on then, lovie.” he gestures to you, and oh how his dick creams at the sight of you shaking your legs on for, gasping at the vibrating sensation of your toy caressing your cunt. You’re really such a site for sore eyes.

“Such a pretty pussy,”he praises with a husky voice that makes your heart race. The saccharine moans that leave your lips as you spasms against the silicone while you instruct him to tug at himself.

He obliges because how can he not when you’re looking so fucking luscious on the other side of the camera as you winsomely order him to smear the opulent precum that oozes from his angry, swollen tip. A little sob leaves your lips when you see how compliant he is, and how his chest shudders at your words and creamy cries of delight.

“Just like that,” he encourages, pumping at himself and in an instant the tables turn, and you’re more than willing to let him take control. He pants at the sight of your parted, saliva-lacquered lips and lolled back eyes. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

And that sentence alone leaves you breathless. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles, through his own labored breaths. The raw emotions in his voice makes it clear how much he’s affected by you, “God, you’re everything I want and more.”

And that does it for you because your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you feel your spine involuntarily arch in pleasure, peaked breasts splayed out as your pussy rapidly pulsates on full display for him. They bounce at your ragged breaths and throes of passion and he’s quick to follow, elongating the pleasure of your peak. His velvety, opulent cum spurts out in plentiful, white cords as he bucks his hips and throws his head back. His guttural moans are like music to your ears and you’re quaking at the pure rapture.

There’s a long moment of silence as you both come down from your highs. A laugh leaves your lips, and a wry grin twitches at his features under his balaclava. You’re no longer dripping nerves. Your smile lights up the room, and his heart swells at the sight of your afterglow. Your confidence shines through and he’s still hard. Not a very common occurrence in the world of Ghost.

Your eyes flicker to his girthy cock and your grin spreads. His eyes follow yours and he chuckles and gently pumps himself, “not every day that happens.”

You cock a brow. “What the inviting me for a cybersex sesh, or the staying hard after cumming part?”

He barks out a hearty laugh, “Both I s’ppose.” he softly plashes. “Really got me goin’ there, lovie.”

And the nickname brings you back to life. Maybe you really were delirious because you can sense that his eyes display a different range of lingering emotions--persisting lust and a genuine admiration. You can’t help but to feel a little victorious as you watch him continue to stroke himself, even after the both of you reached your peak.

“Not everyday I meet someone who can keep up with me,” he rasps. He lets out a breath of satisfaction.

You tilt your head, a coy smile etches into your lips. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” you reply softly. There’s that sensual confidence seeping into your tone and it shows on your body.

He chuckles. It’s low and alluring and it causes gooseberries to trail up your skin. “That you are, lovie,” he counters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His voice makes you feel warm and gooey. “Could get used to this…to you.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air making his interest in you clear and undeniable. Your heart skips a beat as the heat between you simmers again. It’s no longer the deviancy alone that tips him off, it’s the fact that he’s brought out a different side of you.

“Maybe next time,” your voice is low and tempting as your eyes motion to his still-engorged length. “you’ll let me show you how much more I can handle.”

His smirk widens under his mask, and his hunger for you multiplies. “Count on it.” he replies with the promise of fulfilling that request.

You both share a yearning moment. The spark between you is electrifying and certainly obvious. You decide to make the first move as you sit up to hover your sticky thumb over the end call button, “Good night, Ghost.”

He chews at the end of his cheek and his eyes crinkle signaling that he was smiling wide. “Good night, lovie.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that this won’t be the last time you’ll see each other like this.

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