#also i did not bother to describe any of my choices because i suck at explaining things

[xythlia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓

kinktober week two | biting | vampire!satan x f!reader

What Goes Bump In The Night week two is here! The theater two showing is all about vampires, so when those fangs are bared make sure your necks are too~

› you're a caged bird, no hope of faith or flight to save you from the beast that holds you in an iron grip. But do you even want to be saved?

› warnings : ambiguous 18th century setting, biting, vampire au, blood/blood consumption, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, use of pet, sacrilege/religious themes, mention of killing, reader has hair long enough for it to get in their face, noncon, cervix fucking, creampie, choking

› word count : 3k+

🔪 what goes bump in the night?

The human mind possesses a remarkable ability to adapt.

You had quit marking time here long ago, it only served to drive you deeper into despair and slowly it became clear the only choice left was to make the best of being trapped in this rotted cathedral. So be it. Things became less horrid once that shifted inside you, he was kinder for one. Less bouts of intense rage although it wasn't perfectly remedied by your obedience and you suspected the real source of his rage was his own despair at knowing there was no solution for what he was. He also allowed you more freedom of movement, though only within this decrepit place.

You also suppose it makes sense he would choose this place to be a prison, for both of you. What you don't understand however, is his would be devotion to a being that did not create him nor hold any love for him.

"Leave me." Satan greeted you. His eyes never even moved to you, it almost made you feel miffed he couldn't even be bothered to properly rebuke you.

"I didn't even know you were here," you lied. He's always here. Always in the shadow of this altar when he's not slipping into your bedroom, attempting to find a much different form of salvation. This place was obviously once resplendent, but years of abandonment have reduced portions to rubble. This main part of the cathedral was nothing more than a half cracked maw, sucking in the freezing night air.

"I couldn't sleep," you muttered, maybe more to the neglected pews than to him.

You both knew you were lying, his acknowledgement coming in the form of a bland hmph. It was strange, you hated and reviled him especially when he would lurk into your room at night but something you couldn't really describe would rear it's head as an ache for him. You were now wholly dependent on him and you loathed him for it.

When those venomous eyes finally train on you it nearly makes you reconsider. Coming to him like this was a mistake, especially if you don't tred carefully-

"Maybe I should use you to sate my own desires," he cuts off your train of thought. "How wretched you are. You call me beast more times than I can count, yet you sulk into this place wanting to be bed by said beast." He sneered, tone shot full of mocking. You were caught out.

A pit opened in your stomach, but it wasn't unpleasant. No, it was a funny mixture of desire and disgust. He was right, though that would never pass your lips.

So you decide to lie again, even though you know he can practically taste the desire wafting from you, knew you were wet the moment you walked in.

"That's not what I want from you-"

"Then leave!" He practically snarls and you wish you had the nerve to strike him. He knows perfectly well you can't leave, could never leave. He tore you away in the night from all you ever had, all you ever knew and dropped you into this decaying church because try as he might he can never resist what he is.

Your own lips curl into a snarl. "You're nothing but a pathetic creature that would spend all of his eternity knelt for a god that deafens its ears to him."

You don't stop even as he rises to stand, every movement radiating aggression as he comes closer to you. You want to hurt him even a fraction of how badly he's hurt you, the ugliness of it twines together with your arousal, twin snakes squirming in your belly.

"You're pathetic. You know no god will ever look at you in joy so you capture women, cage them and break them so at least someone will gaze at you in sick adoration-"

The words die as a garbled sound of pain as his hand grips your throat, pushing you forcefully against a half rotted support beam. The position was oddly intimate, allowing you to smell the tang of the dust that had settled on him from spending hours in that repentant pose. That shameful arousal spiked inside your gut at the way he bared those fangs at you, the way he held you in place by your neck.

"Aren't you the one gazing in adoration, pet?"

The stone floor suddenly at your back was roughly fractured in sharp contours, horribly uncomfortable but it mattered not. You blinked away the start of tears in your eyes at the breathtaking sensation of being laid out flat, you always forgot about his strength when enough time passed but his small display of violence was thrilling to you in a vile way, so was the pain.

All of Satan's focus was zeroed on you as he hunched above your trembling body. The look on his face was dark, making your thighs squeeze together in a way you wish didn't happen. His flaxen hair was haloed by the cracks of moonlight from the crumbling ceiling,for a millisecond you swear he looked like one of those stained glass depictions of an angel.

"Please not here," you squeaked out.

"What? Are you afraid god will strike you down?" He asked, then whispered, "Do you really think he cares? He has yet to save you."

You swallowed thickly, noting how his eyes tracked the movement with their overblown pupils. This was a terrible idea, one you regretted now but it was too late. You'd poked the bear until claws came out and there's no asking for them to be retracted.

In the tense quiet he brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, the act so gentle, so intimate it nearly made you forget that you were but a meal and a thing to fuck. The faint stench of old blood brought you back to reality, knowing it came from his hands.

So, his faux repentance was prompted by another killing. It always is.

That blood-crusted hand glided down the column of your throat, making you flinch. You could tell by the hardening of his eyes that it was the wrong involuntary action to have, but there was no taking it back. That hand dipped inside your neckline to trace the curve of a breast before stilling above your heart.

"You're always so afraid," he said. It sounded almost regretful. "You know I don't mean to hurt you?"

"I don't." You whimpered. Finally a portion of truth. For all his occasional nicety it always wound back around to pain. A pain you got used to, tolerated, even sought out such as tonight, but you could never ever be sure that he would never hurt you.

He laughed and it was a mad sound, ricocheting off the cold indifferent stone and making you flinch again.

"You're just as detestable as I am, do you know that? Skulking in, acting on your own shameful desires, pretending you're not. Pretending you don't enjoy this little dance we do." His speech was coming out hard, rapidly. "I could tear you into shreds, leave nothing but ichor and parts and there's nothing you could ever do to stop me."

It was sick, how delighted he looked as you shrank against the floor. Even now your defiant streak became prevalent.

"You won't kill me," but you hardly sounded sure.

"Would you like to test it?"

You clenched your jaw, staying silent, although your trembling worsened.

Before you realized it he was leaning back, icy hands moving down violently to rip at the linen trousers you wore and horror washed over you. Horror that this was no longer a scathing back and forth, and that this time he really might make good on killing you.

"What are you doing- stop!" You cried out in dread but his movements didn't falter, no matter how much you struggled against him pulling at the fabrics of your clothes until the seams tore, leaving your cunt bare to his gaze and your ass to the bite of the frozen stone floor.

You yelped in pain as he tugged you down, scraping your back against the stone and raised your legs up, propping them on his shoulders in a hardened grip. Terror kept you locked in place even when his hands disappeared, fumbling with his own waistband looking down you saw how erect he was in his hand. Thick and tip dripping precum as you feel him smear it between your folds, and you bite down hard on your lips in anticipation of fresh pain.

As he roughly guided himself inside you struggled anew, crying out from the unprepared stretching as his girth forced your muscles and slick walls to part. Something like lust overcame you as you felt him fit fully inside, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It made you go limp, a gasped sob rising from your chest as he pushed your legs up against your breasts before forcefully placing your hands to hold the backs of your thighs.

His movements started slow, his breathing ragged feeling you clench around him. When he started thrusting with more vigor the back of your head scraped painfully against the floor, making you yelp as cool tears pooled in the shell of your ears from sliding down your cheeks. It hurt, the way it always did and brought a dull pounding pain that flowed through your entire body.

It was raw, being fucked into jagged stone with no consideration from the man sucking and nipping at your skin. A mockery of intimacy, but in a repulsive way it sustained you. Feeling his balls smack against the fat of your ass, gasping his name in broken syllables, feeling his fingers slip down to prod at your clit; it guaranteed your survival.

As you shift to wrap your arms around his neck an aggressive sound leaves him. All the pain made your back arch, trying to escape the ground while at the same time providing him a deeper reach that brought a burst of ecstasy to you. Pain and pleasure intensely mixed and muddled your mind as your body jostled with his cruel pace. Whatever pain there was would be rewarded, there was solace in that.

With no space between you that scent of iron and rot returned, pairing with the smell of your own acrid sweat and his golden hair tickled your cheek as he bit down with intent this time.

The wail that rang against the unfeeling cathedral left you unbidden, an animalistic response to the searing, nearly blinding pain of teeth sinking into your flesh. Sobs left you in ripping spurts, your nails clawing at his back but it did little to stop him. His pace never broke, if anything the way he circled your clit only picked up speed and your cunt spasmed around him.

It was strangely beautiful, feeling yourself coming undone and slipping away as your eyes never left the gap of starlight breaking through the musty darkness from the vaulted ceiling. The pain was ebbing away too, like a hazy afterimage that you couldn't hold onto. Faintly you knew the wet warmth seeping against your skin was your own blood, he always is a sloppy eater after all. It makes you crack a small smile, and distantly you know you look insane: fucked out, bloody, yet smiling up to the sky while he doesn't stop pumping into you, doesn't stop sucking and grunting against your skin. A barbaric display beneath the unsympathetic eye of the moon.

Though there is a happiness in knowing the dance ended the way it always does. That tomorrow you'll wake up, sore and feeling sick, but alive still.

As your eyes flutter closed and you go limp in his hold something shifts, though you're no longer awake to catch it. To him this suffering of eternal existence would perhaps be lessened if you were also eternally present, and without your current fragility.

Thick spurts of cum flood your throbbing cunt with his last sloppy thrusts as he keeps drinking, past his fill and past the point of no return. You'll wake much, much later as little more than a fledgling beast with base instincts but it thrills him to think of your anguish once you regain a sense of self.

Whatever poison you spit at him as a human would pale in comparison to what will surely leave your mouth once you realize what he's done to you. But snapping that iron will of yours a second time will taste even sweeter than you do at this moment.

[acourtofthought]

1) stop spoiling HOFAS. Jesus Christ.

2) the Bryceriel ship went up against a pre-existing relationship where the two characters (Bryce and Hunt) actually have feelings for each other, and actually like spending time with each other as both friends and lovers. You know, all the things Elain and Lucien canonically have no current signs of.

3) Lucien having a sad backstory doesn’t entitle him to Elain’s affections or love. It’s not about what he needs, or what the fandom thinks Elain needs (e.g. she needs to accept the mating bond, or she needs sunshine, or she needs to leave the Night Court), it’s about what Elain wants. And all signs (over 4 whole books now) suggest that’s not Lucien. It’s Azriel. And Elain is a seer - I’m trusting her judgement on this one.

4) I wouldn’t be so content to mock other people’s ships when you yourself have spent every. single. day. of the past 2-3 years going on and on about how Elucien is endgame, and that you know better than everyone else on the matter. You could be wrong too, you know?

Stop spoiling HOFAS?

You mean stop writing "Post contains HOFAS spoilers" followed by a Keep Reading button which hides the rest because you're the (insert choice word here) who chooses to continue reading the post when you're trying to avoid spoilers? Also, if you're the one who keeps using proof of a tainted Elucien bond because of the Cauldron then NEWS FLASH, you are already reading spoilers because that's a bullshit E/riel theory that they've suddenly come up with the leak of HOFAS. And...feel free to BLOCK my account if what I post is bothering you so much. I'm not sure why you're so desperate to keep my blog visible when it upsets you to this degree.

2. My point was that Bryce / Az shippers were convinced that because Hunt and Bryce's bond was described different than other ships, it had to be fake and Bryce's real mate was Az. Just like E/riels have a million and one theories for why the Elucien bond isn't real. But just as it was proven that Bryce and Hunts bond was the real deal regardless of it's differences to other bonds in description, Elucien's bond is the real deal too. Just like Feysand, just like Nessian. You still have absolutely NO PROOF that it was manipulated in any way especially when there are multiple examples in the ACOTAR series and CC3 explaining that when a bond snaps, it can be scented. Not just when it's accepted. 3. Lucien doesn't deserve Elain because of his tragic backstory but from a logical literary standpoint, authors do not write the progression of events that SJM has written for Lucien only to have his mate reject him in the end. The author chose to write it into her book that they are mates, has written him to be entirely respectful to the gift they share, and continues hitting us over the head with their compatibility. Elain is not real, you do know that, correct? It's not about what Elain wants but what the author wants for her. Nesta WANTED to drink and fuck random fae. Was that the best thing for her? Or did the author want better for her? So just because Elain wanted to hook up with Az doesn't meant that decision is being made for the right reasons or what Elain actually wants long term. I think it's a RIOT that you think Elain wanting to have a hook up with Az while refusing to reject her bond is a bigger clue to her future story than things like Elain always being by the sunniest window, that Elain wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of the NC....it sucked the life from her, that SPRING had been made for someone like Elain, that Elain's scent was a promise of Spring. Oh, you mean the Seer powers Elain confirms she hasn't used? That her good boy Az hasn't offered to help her with? Yeah, great call banking her entire future on those powers. Seriously, step away from your ship for half a minute and pay attention to the fucking book outside of the Az and Elain moments. 4. I'm sorry. If I actually knew who you were and I looked at your page, do you think I'd find how you liked posts of E/riels mocking Lucien and the Elucien ship? Are you honestly coming on to my page and acting like what I do is so much worse than the people you follow? What I'm "mocking" is E/riels going around claiming they have canon evidence that the Elucien bond has been proven tainted and I'm fairly sure I'm allowed to call out how ridiculous that is. I acknowledge I could be wrong Elucien. I don't think I am but until the book is written anything is possible. But have you considered that you all could be very wrong about E/riel?

[triviareads]

ARC Review of When the Duke Loved Me by Lydia Lloyd

Summary:

Catherine Forster was ruined by John Breminster, Duke of Edington a decade ago, and thanks to the enmity between their families, he refused to marry her. Now, a decade later, Catherine is a penniless spinster, and John is on her doorstep, asking for her for her help with a sensitive matter that concerns the scandal that occurred between their families years ago...

My review:

This is Lydia Lloyd's debut novel, and I thought she did a great job of writing main characters who were individually sympathetic and dynamic together, as well as an overarching mystery plot that kept me on my toes the entire time.

A lot of the plot is centered around the enmity between the Breminsters and the Forsters. About a decade before the prologue starts, John's father Reginald and Catherine's Aunt Mary (who raised her) were caught in flagrante and the fallout meant financial and reputational ruin for Catherine and her family, as well as John's family being torn apart. Now, John's father is dead and he's left behind an annuity that Mary must accept, or it will spell social ruin for John's sister. The problem is, Mary's disappeared and John is convinced Catherine can help him find her.

Catherine is a heroine who's reduced to some pretty dire circumstances (girlie literally has the residents of her household faking the plague to avoid debt collectors), so she's scrappy and realistic enough to go along with John's scheme without much fuss. John is presented as something of a feckless rake (with rake friends who I hope get their own stories), but we see the hidden, more caring side to him soon enough.

What's interesting is, between the ruination from a decade prior, as well as John initially casting aspersions on Catherine's morality ("a spinster can't kiss as well as YOU did"), you would think they have an uphill battle to even tolerate one another, but they didn't. I thought it was refreshing that despite everything, they don't bother to deny their mutual attraction right from the get-go. They grow to care for one another along the way (this is definitely a case of sex helping their relationship grow, and sex is their form of communication), and it's fairly smooth sailing all things considered. Really, the greater conflict(s) are how they individually grapple with the complicated relationships between them and their respective parental figures.

This relative lack of tension until the end also makes the climax more poignant, when Catherine is faced with the choice to break off their engagement and leave, or be forced to keep secrets from John, which she can't bring herself to do because of how much she loves and cares for him.

The mysterious relationship between Reginald and Mary serves as a compelling backdrop. For one, there are a lot of parallels between them and John/Catherine (like I think John tries to fuck Catherine on the same desk he caught them on when he was younger lol). They ultimately served as a warning for the main couple for how not to proceed with their relationship.

The sex:

The overall sex vibes in this book can probably be best described as "down and ready any time, anywhere". Delving into the specific, I'm shameless enough to say I'm all for an instant gratification moment and Lydia delivered with the beginning "ruination" scene... set in the middle of ruins at that. And the ramifications even a decade later are pretty damn hilarious: At some point John admits to Catherine that he couldn't get off unless he was thinking about her to which my reactions in order were a) GASP b) *cackles* c) wait.... this is actually romantic?

There's also a great dry-humping scene pretty early on which honestly might have been hotter than the actual sex? It starts with him telling her he wants to suck ink off her fingers, and ends with him high-tailing out of there with a Boner of Shame and Guilt (we love a selfless man) so I was 100% entertained the whole time.

Overall:

If you enjoy a your historical romances with a side of mystery, then this is the book for you. I loved the easy chemistry between the main couple and how they slowly unraveled the truth of the past. This is a fantastic debut for Lydia Lloyd, and I look forward to future books in this series.

Thank you to Tule Publishing and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my review.

[pinkopalina]

body + sex (verb not noun) talk

I mean. I was thinking about how like, I want to experience body euphoria. and like if I ever did want a phalloplasty (bottom surgery to get a dick) someday (probably not tbh but like. I've been packing lately, like wearing stuff in my pants, and Im the one that wears the strap on the relationship 😏) I was thinking about how so many trans people have to get letters at therapy and stuff and that sucks. and like. at first I was thinking about how that's not my situation. I want a dick but it's not because I'm a trans boy. I wonder if I could go to any single doctor like that and if they'd understand?

but it did make me realize I'm more nonbinary than I thought I was. I want to look and present and go by exactly the same things but I want a dick too. and also I'd love to just not get periods or anything anymore. and when it comes to sexy time I HATE internal. I can't take anything, I like topping and external stuff, which just makes more sense...

so like, even if it's not because I'm a trans boy it's still a gender euphoria thing because I'm nonbinary and I actively want mix-matched parts. I don't ever want top surgery but I think, in terms of bodyody, I would have been happy to be an amab trans (demi)girl who never got bottom surgery but took E so I had a special kind of girlcock 🥺 (trans girls have talked about like how your body changes and what happens if you don't want/don't get bottom surgery. and like, body choices and gender euphoria is all so fun to me. I think everyone should have the opportunity to express themselves physically and metaphorically without judgement or policy telling us we can't. which is why the policing of words bothers me so much, like, there's more important stuff going on than how someone describes themselves as long as they're not intentionally being hateful then I don't see the problem with creating an experience that fits you). so I'm definitely not trying to minimize or make light of what everyone has been through with this blessing and curse of a Pandora's box known as gender, but, like, now I realize that I'm more involved than I thought I was haha

[bisexual-ashe]

okay im listening to my spotify playlist, and a song from the mania album came on. and gave me very strong luther vibes. so. i said fuck it. and decided to make a list of the hargreeves siblings and mania songs that remind me of them.

so, without further ado...

hargreeves siblings as songs from fall out boy's mania

luther: the last of the real ones.

'I was just an only child of the universe And then I found you, and then I found you You are the sun and I am just the planets Spinning around you, spinning around you You were too good to be true, gold plated But what's inside you? But what's inside you? I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you But not as much as I do, as much as I do, yeah'

'I am a collapsing star with tunnel vision But only for you, but only for you My head is stripped, just like a screw that's been tightened too many times When I think of you, when I think of you I will shield you from the waves if they find you I will protect you, I will protect you Just tell me, tell me, tell me I, I am the only one Even if it's not true, even if it's not true, yeah'

diego: sunshine riptide.

'She said, "I love you 'til I don't" I am just playing house, no idea what I'm doing now There are no atheists in foxholes The pressure's getting to me, it's time to throw in the towel'

'You are my truest feeling yet I love you so much, it's just like oxygen And it's going to my head A public meltdown, petulant, but irreverent

Take all your possibilities then take away the limits Take your ideas and throw away all the gimmicks I do the best with what I have The pills are kicking in, the pills are kicking in'

allison: bishops knife trick.

'I'm pedal to the metal, make no mistake This is my pity party, pity party And I'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke Spiritual revolt from the waist down, from the waist down'

'I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate It doesn't wanna live in a cage, a feeling that I can't housebreak And I'm yours 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll Away, I'm struggling to exist with you and without you, yeah'

klaus: wilson (expensive mistakes).

'I was, I was, I was, I was Gonna say something that would solve all our problems But then I got drunk and I forgot what I was talking about I forgot what I was talking about'

'I hope the roof flies off and we get blown out into space I always make such expensive mistakes I know it's just a number, but you're the 8th wonder I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker color'

five: young and menace.

'We've gone way too fast for way too long And we were never supposed to make it half this far And I lived so much life, lived so much life I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice'

'Woke up on the wrong side of reality And there's a madness that's just coursing right through me And as far as the time, far as the time Not sure I'm there yet but I'm certain I've arrived'

sparrow ben: stay frosty royal milk tea.

'Some princes don't become kings Even at the best of times I'm out of my mind You only get what you grieve, are you smelling that shit? Are you smelling that shit? Eau de résistance'

'Seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind And all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died Fake tears, real living, fake tears But the alcohol never lies, never lies'

viktor: hold me tight or don't

'I never really feel a thing, I'm just kinda too froze You were the only one, that even kinda came close I just pinch myself, no longer comatose I woke up, no luck, I woke up, no luck'

'An-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nother day goes by So hold me tight, hold me tight, or don't Oh n-n-no, no, this isn't how our story ends So hold me tight, hold me tight, or don't'

lila: champion.

'I'm calling you from the future To let you know we've made a mistake And there's a fog from the past that's giving me, giving me Such a headache And I'm back with a madness, I'm a champion Of the people who don't believe in champions I got nothing but dreams inside I got nothing but dreams'

'I got rage every day, on the inside The only thing I do is sit around and kill the time I'm trying to blow out the pilot light I'm trying to blow out the light'

[sukirichi]

earned it [01]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it.  But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

request. (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + (dumbification, praising kink)

cw. smut, overstimulation, slight dumbification, praising kink, slight degradation, spanking, belt whipping, explicit murder, rough sex, shower sex, oral (f receiving), multiple sex scenes, riding, slight angst, veryyy unedited, sex when standing up, sex in pretzel position, dom! gojo, manhandling

notes. 🦋 anon, thanks so much for the request! i hope you love this one, i absolutely poured my heart and soul into this! minus the effort to edit, i’ll just edit this when i’m no longer sick lol

series masterlist

There he was again.

Working in a high-class restaurant located in the heart of the city meant you were no stranger to seeing people of power and titles, but he never failed to make everyone stop in their tasks every time he came around.

You don’t know his name, much less his usual orders since his usual table – middle 98 – wasn’t in your rotation. But you’re held captive in his presence, attention drawn to his broad shoulders clad in what seemed like a hand-stitched three piece suit, his striking white hair falling down in smooth tendrils. There’s something about the way he walks – confident doesn’t begin to describe it – that makes everyone surrounding him feel like they’re merely spectators to the enigma that was him, and he carries this observation proudly in his shoulders, that mischievous smile never absent from his face.

Your co-worker tugs at your sleeve, nearly knocking the empty wine glasses away from your tray. Barely catching them as you falter, you bow down to them in apology. No matter how intriguing the mysterious midnight comer was, you were still working. You needed to keep your head focused and in the game.

Hours pass by of shifting from one table to another, your hands beyond cramped from scribbling down such intricate orders. It’s a miracle you were hired in a place as luxurious as this in the first place when you couldn’t pronounce, much less spell the main dishes, but you proved through determination and hard work that the miracle was also accompanied by your grit. It didn’t matter that you were the youngest part-timer with little to no experience – unexpected things always happened when you’re backed in a corner, leaving you with no choice but to follow through.

This corner was nothing less than the struggle to make ends meet. While you’re lucky to have gotten accepted in one of the top state universities, there still came the issue of tuition fees, plus dorm occupations.

You don’t have the privilege to complain or whine that your experiences are probably not on par with what they expect of you, so you have to do your best; you have to keep pushing no matter how hard it gets and you’re barely awake for class the next day.

Clocking out, you bid goodbye to your co-workers and thank them for their hard work, about to leave through the back door when you hear his voice.

Your gaze lands on him from outside the kitchen, body twisted in the direction of where he sat, long legs crossed one another. He’s thanking the waiter for the wine, and you wince, because it isn’t just any wine. That’s one of the drinks locked in the special cellar because of its hefty price, yet there he was, swirling the red liquid around in his glass as if the amount of zeroes never bothered him. He’s reading something from his tablet, head tilted to the side as he drinks, and that’s when you see it.

It’s so miniscule you would’ve believed it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you, but you’ve seen in this class during one of your laboratory practices, the burn marks on your wrist a painful reminder of your carelessness.

Your boss’ shouts of warning fall onto deaf ears as you push past the double doors, feet moving on its own. The edge of the glass makes contact with his lips, gray lashes flattering across his cheeks, while time and sound becomes nothing but background noise to you. Your cry is inaudible when your hand pushes the glass away from his grip, the sounds of it shattering into pieces like a wake-up call to both of you.

For the first time since you’ve met him, the faintest look of surprise crosses over his face. His hands remain into a reflexive hold of the now missing glass, azure eyes cutting through yours.

You bow down to apologize – you can’t believe you’ve just done that and how his suit was stained and his pants soaked – but the words that left his lips stun you beyond disbelief, effectively freezing you in your state. His voice holds the same iciness as the blue of his pupils, but to you – just for you – there’s a tinge of awe behind them.

“Odd,” he says, “To think my life would be saved by you.”

You wake up with a gasp, hands clutched on the blanket covering your bare frame. There’s sweat forming on your hairline as you look around, wincing at the sliver of light passing through the curtains. Silver, ceiling length draperies obscure the view of the city skies outside, a huge reminder of where you are now – somewhere between the past and the future that’s about to come – and the king-sized bed you lay on almost feels like a dream.

Right. It’s been two years since you’ve met Satoru, the once mysterious customer turned into lover, an arrangement between financial aid and companionship solidifying your relationship with him now.

Your face burns at the sight of your clothes scattered all over your shared room. Your lace panties somehow end up on the chandeliers, the expensive material of your silk dress about to slide off the humongous TV and your bra hanging off the doorknob.

The light ache between your legs does nothing to appease your embarrassment. Even after two years of being with Satoru, it’s still difficult to believe he’s chosen you of all people.

He could’ve had anyone he wants. Not only is he beautiful, young, successful, and smart, he’s also an absolutely god in the sheets, your throbbing core attesting to his never ending array of his skills. Truly, Gojo Satoru was perfect, so much so that you pale in comparison to him no matter how much he’s assured you you’re the only he has eyes on.

It doesn’t make sense to you, but does it have to?

Love never required a logical reason for it to blossom, and you left it at that, fearful that it may just ruin whatever happened between the two of you. Besides, if Satoru wants you, then who were you to question that?

You swing your legs off the side of the bed to make him breakfast, but your legs shake upon contact to the floor, still very much sore after last night’s events.

Satoru’s been away for work for three days, and even though it wasn’t that much of a distance, he still acted like it’s been forever. He sure took his time with you, making you cum three times just with his tongue and fingers alone. He’s a cheeky and mischievous man; there’s no telling whether his words are just sweet lies or plain facts, but if there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that Satoru keeps his promises to heart. If he says he’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk the next day, he means it, and now you’re left groaning back onto the bed.

You’re thankful that it’s a weekend. Had it been a school day, it’s going to be an absolute pain in the ass. No matter how much he’s covered your school fees, you still won’t risk missing a day.

The door swings open, revealing your boyfriend clothed in nothing but his boxers, the smile on his face huge at seeing you glare at him. “Aw, baby,” he coos, sliding himself next to you, carrying a tray of pancakes topped with blueberries with him. Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulder and laughs into your air when you grumble at the soreness, which he tries to kiss away. “Sorry not sorry for last night. It’s not my fault I’m so addicted to you.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, fighting back that stupid fluttering feeling in your chest. Your attention is diverted to the luscious, fluffy pancakes, and your brows furrow at the sight. “Did you make this for me?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You roll your eyes at him; his energy was always off the charts even after fucking you into oblivion. Thanking him under your breath, you reach for the breakfast, eternally grateful that it’s breakfast in bed because you can’t walk anywhere right now. However, Satoru pries your hands away from the fork, making you lean back instead as he spoon feeds you.

It’s a little humiliating – and he’s basking in this judging from the smirk he wears – but you give in anyway. Unlike him, your stamina isn’t monstrous. You’re still a human and you’re utterly tired, the glare endless through mouthfuls of the pancake. “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re my baby,” he retorts, smacking a kiss right at your lips.

You complain harder, ever so annoyed that you could never seem to throw him off guard and have the upper hand for once. Satoru eases the frown on your face by kissing you harder, his hand cradling your neck. He’s a fucking tease; his tongue languid and sensual as he tastes the honey coating your lips, sucking your bottom lip inside his mouth before nipping at it.

At the back of your mind, you’re wondering how each moment with him results into touching. Not that you really mind, of course, your stomach only flares up with heat at the thought he wants you just as much as you crave him.

Breakfast is soon forgotten right after seven bites as Satoru leans back against the headboard, thumb soothing circles at your hipbone to guide you on top of him.

He pulls away to breathe, a thin thread of saliva and honey between your lips present, and it’s so erotic that his eyes darken with lust, hands gripping a little tighter. You’re still bare on top of him, hardened breasts on display, but he holds himself back with heavy breaths, not wanting to ruin you further than he already has.

Satoru’s lips lands on your shoulder instead, thumb grazing under the weight of your breasts. He’s kissing you everywhere, almost as if he expects the flutter of his lips to heal you. You gladly let him taste you as he pleases, neck tilted to the side while you catch your breath.

The transition of him from an absolute freak in bed to the caring, compassionate boyfriend he is never fails to give you whiplash.

“How’s your studies?” he murmurs into your skin, his touch feather-like in caressing your back. You feel the hairs stand up at where he grazes them, shivering at the sensuality and tenderness he holds you with. “Doing good? My sweetheart still top of her class?”

“Hmm,” you hum back, planting yourself firm in his lap. He’s already hard under you, his cock twitching when your bare cunt presses on top of his tip, but he controls himself, focusing on your state instead. “My grades are tip-top, all thanks to your support,” Satoru smiles when you’re the one placing kisses all over his face this time, his giggles almost child-like.

Time flies by as you lay there in his arms. You’re lulled back into sleep at the sound of his heart beat, and just as you’re dozing off, Satoru pats your ass. “Baby,” he calls out, “Let me wash you first, then we’ll cuddle afterwards. What do you think about that?”

“That’d be great, I feel sticky.”

Satoru laughs, pulling panicked squeals from you when he suddenly hoisted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. He kicks the door open before turning the heater on in the Jacuzzi, placing you under the shower first.

You close your eyes under the sprinkle of water, hands splayed all over his chest. Your legs are still wobbling, no thanks to him railing you as if there was no tomorrow, but he holds you upright, kneading his hands into your hair then washing every crevice of your body. When you open your eyes, you see him kneeling down to rub the loofah all over your legs, a slight pinch in his brows from sheer focus.

Your heart beats loudly on your chest, unable to process that the Gojo Satoru is on his knees, his touch nothing less of worshipping as if you were a divine being in his eyes.

It makes you breathe sharply as his face comes up before your core, his tongue darting out for a moment before he looks away, focusing on cleaning you up afterwards. His control and care for your well-being leaves you speechless, leaves you breathless, leaves you wanting him more and more and more that you’re kissing him again the moment he brings you both to his Jacuzzi.

He’s taken his boxers off to enjoy the feeling of skin brushing against skin, the fuzz of bubbles foaming up at your breasts only enticing him to kiss you with equal fervent passion.

You’re grinding down on his dick, his length encased between your lips that are extremely warm in comparison to the cool water. Finally, Satoru is stuttering beneath you, little whines leaving his breath as he kneads your ass, resisting the urge to slap the smooth flesh.

“Satoru,” you moan, “N-need you now, please.”

Fuck, his name on your lips mixed with your moans are enough to make him want to lose his restraint and just fuck you hard and deep there. He growls at how unaware you are of your effect on him, and he’s nothing short of starving in his kisses, never getting tired of tasting you over and over again. He wants to keep kissing you until your scent and taste is imprinted on his skin, to carry you around with him even when you’re not there, because he loves you, and he’s never loved anyone this much before. Especially for people like him, love was nothing but a myth.

Everything is a fantasy with you, a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. If you were to ask him to give up everything for you this instant, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

His heart is enslaved by your existence, and he nods, helping you lift your hips up to align his cock to your entrance. He takes note of your soreness as you slowly sink down on his cock, swallowing your whimpers through open-mouthed kiss. You’re shaking inside his arms, tiny scratches mixed with mewls making its way on his chest, further adding to the litter of scars already painted on his body.

Your head lands on his shoulder the second he bottoms out. Satoru groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering down on him, so warm and so tight that he has to lean his head back on the headrest just to catch his breath.

“You ride me, baby,” he manages through pants. “I’ll let you set the pace – do what’s comfortable with you.”

Your jaw clenches at the same time you clamp down on him one more time, eliciting another sinful moan from your lover. A lazy smirk graces your face as you ride him slowly, the image of the almighty Gojo Satoru falling apart at your ministrations burned at the back of your mind. You’ll replay this memory every time he leaves for work again, and the dreadful thought of having to watch him leave one more time fuels you to bounce on him harder, nails dug into his shoulder.

Satoru winces at the slight sting but doesn’t stop you anyway; he’s no stranger to pain. In fact, he’s a master of that and many more in more ways than one, though you didn’t know that – and he’ll never let you know that.

His eyes snap open at the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the water sloshing out the Jacuzzi. He’s met with the sight of you clutching the edges of the tub, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fuck yourself harder on his cock. Your breasts bounce right in front of his eyes, tempting him to latch a mouth around it, which he does, the sudden flicking of his warm tongue on your nipples driving you to the edge.

Your soreness becomes a hazy memory of the past with each slide down his dick, thighs burning from the exertion. Satoru is lapping up your breasts and palming the other expertly, his breath hot on your skin.

Something familiar coils into your lower abdomen with each hard thrust, and you throw your head back, moaning his name as if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. You’re growing tired; he can tell from the way you’re barely lifting your hips, but you’re so close, so near, that Satoru takes it upon himself to push you both right where you wanted to be.

Your moan comes out breathless the moment Satoru grips at your hips, snapping his hips upwards at the same time he guides your body to crush down on him. He’s the one controlling your body, but you’re falling on top of him with no reserve, your weight slamming down to his groin in full force that he’s faltering. Satoru is entranced by the motion of your hips gyrating around the head of his cock, the wavering grin on your face a telltale you’re enjoying the act of destroying him, but he lets you – it’s only fair after the countless times he’s done the same with you. But oh, he’ll have you again and again, and he proves his endless desire for you by forcing himself deep to your most sensitive spots, the glimpse of your mouth hanging open as you come making his cock twitch.

Satoru squeezes your hips as he situates you flat on his cock, groaning as he came in thick spurts. You mewl, scratching at his chest as he rides his high out with a few more sloppy thrusts.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers at the top of your hair, well-aware that your oversensitivity is clouding your mind. But he can’t help it, not when you feel so good around him like this. “Just a little more, I’ll be – fuck – right there, oh yeahhh,” he drawls out breathlessly, his cock twitching with the last strings of cum until he grows boneless inside you.

Satoru pulls his cock out, chest heaving up and down from that earth-shattering orgasm. In all honesty, he’s confident he could give you an even better one, but your lids are already fluttering close that he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your temple as a silent you did well.

Somewhere through your half-awake state, you manage to card your fingers through his hair, voice small and weak as you ask, “Don’t you have to go to work?”

Satoru’s eyes lour with something unreadable, and he’s thankful you don’t get to see the sudden glooming of his face. He gently pushes your head to rest on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at his rippling reflection in the water. In his eyes, he sees the truth – he sees a monster holding an innocent angel he lives to protect – the truth he wants to conceal. He can’t even fathom the possibility of you finding out about who he really is, much less what he does that enables him to provide you with everything you need.

He’s the demon himself, caressing someone as pure as you in his arms, his eyes and true self sinister except for the gentle kisses he leaves at the shell of your ear.

If it keeps you safe, he doesn’t mind becoming even more of a monster if it means keeping you safe.

So he keeps you right where you can’t witness the slight moments of vulnerability in which his horns reveal itself, hugging you tight and possessively in the fear he’ll lose the only thing that matters most to him.

“I have a meeting tonight,” is all he says, is what he always says.

He’s mysterious and aloof, too vague every time you inquire him about what he does for a living. Usually, you’d feel worried or even wary that maybe he doesn’t trust you as much as you originally thought, but you’re too tired to question him further, and he takes advantage of your weakness wholeheartedly. All to keep you safe.

Satoru closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, no longer bothered by the fact each step he took is getting him closer and closer to a point of no redemption.

He’s not worried about that anymore, not when his salvation is right in his arms, wrapping him with your love and false sense of safety that it becomes the lie he feeds himself every night just to keep going on.

“I just want to be with you a little longer.”

This time around, Satoru tells the truth.

The rust of blood dripping off the concrete walls is as normal to Satoru as breathing is for everyone else. He doesn’t falter in his movements, doesn’t scrunch his nose at the stench, and he doesn’t waver from swinging his arm back, the heavy weight of the wrench already wielded in his hand.

Someone dared come up to their base to face him head-on.

He has to admit, he was impressed with their guts, but now he feels empty save for a slight sliver of irritation at the man’s bloodied face. He’s panting after coughing up blood so much, his face unrecognizable after the beating Satoru gave him, teeth splattered on the floor. Satoru’s right hand man, Geto, stands at the side, silently inspecting his nails.

They’d been going at this for hours now, yet they seemed to be right where they were at the beginning. Torture was usually an effective method of gathering information, but this hostage seemed to be on the same par of monstrous as Satoru from his unyielding nature, even had the audacity to laugh.

Satoru stops in his tracks, a brow raised at what seemed to be so funny.

“Everyone spoke highly of you,” he spat his blood out, his busted eye twitching under Satoru’s stone cold gaze. “They told me you were barbaric, ruthless, the most feared mafia boss out here, but you’re pathetic now, aren’t you? You’re not the same Six Eyes who sees all they claimed you to be,” Satoru watched warily when his hostage smirked, the same one he always wore just moments from bashing the skull out of someone. It’s because he’s so familiar with it that Satoru immediately puts up his walls, Geto stepping beside him with his gun gleaming under his coat. As expected, the man does not falter, his laughter merely increasing in volume. “You’ve grown soft, Gojo. Your little lover is your weakness, it’s written all over your face. Tell me, what’s stopping you from ending my life already? Afraid that if she finds out, she might push you away?” When Gojo doesn’t answer, the man clicks his tongue. “I fucking knew it.”

Geto moves quicker than his boss. He draws his gun and aims it right between his eyes, only to be stopped by Satoru’s indifferent tone. “Stop.”

“But boss-”

“Why did you come here?” he stabs the man in the thigh with a knife, his screams of pain alleviating enough to distract the painful clenching of his chest. “I don’t believe you came here just to prove the rumors true. Now you tell me, why have you come here?” Satoru slams his fist down on the knife, the blade pushing past through muscles and hitting deep to the bone. “Answer me.”

“Th-there’s a drive in my pocket. Open it and you’ll see.”

The man doesn’t stop squirming as Geto rummages through his jacket, nodding to his boss once they got hold of the slick black device. Geto immediately plugs it to the monitor, several photographs popping up in a few seconds, and those few seconds were all it took to bring the infamous mafia boss down.

Because they weren’t just photos, they were photos of you.

Of you laughing with your friends, of you hugging Satoru’s arm in one of your dates, of you kissing him under the streetlight and even an intimate photo of you going down on him while he’s driving. It must be taken from a street cam judging from the blurry quality, but it’s crystal clear to him anyway, and Satoru’s mind muddles with thoughts darker than he once believed he’s capable of. He feels his anger bloom like fire licking up at his skin, his nerves bursting through, and he’s so obvious, so predictable that his hostage guffaws.

“I was right, I was right-!”

“You mean her?” his voice drips down with so much indifference, it shocks even he himself. His hostage shuts up at the sudden change of Satoru’s aura, that dark, fearsome aura that had people begging him to kill them as an act of mercy coming back to life. The man clamps his mouth shut, chills running down his spine because it’s no longer the same Satoru he mocked pulling the knife out from his thigh.

No, this is the Gojo Satoru, the devil incarnate himself, and he’s made the huge mistake of believing he would be affected by a mere woman. Satoru reads the fear on his face too easily, not bothering to hide his sigh as he twirls the bloodied blade between his fingers.

“She’s nothing to me. She’s just another bitch, another paid pussy. Favorite of the month, you could say, but nothing of worth to me,” he announces, ignoring Geto who’s stiffened up at the corner. “Did you really come all the way here just to see if you could find my weakness? If so, then your organization is a lot dumber than I thought, and I hate people who waste my time.”

“No, no, please, I was just jok-” his eyes widen when Satoru snaps his fingers, and Geto rushes to his boss with his gun. “Please, no, I didn’t think she was just a bitch-”

The man never got to finish his words.

A loud ‘bang’ echoes around the room, followed by a slight snap when his head falls backwards. Blood drips from the hole sitting in between his head, the aim perfect and flawless even with Satoru not looking back. He’s still Gojo Satoru, leader of the Gojo Mafia Clan, and he’s not the most feared leader in history for no reason. He’s always been blessed with a physical prowess and fighting abilities that allowed him to take on other clans by himself, but he’s changing. There’s now a chink in his armour, and people are starting to notice.

If he doesn’t do anything about it soon…

“Sir,” Geto begins, following the rushed footsteps of Satoru outside the hall, where his security is lined up with guns poised and ready to risk their lives for him. This was his power, this was his legacy – and this is who he was.

A killer. A monster. A demon – he’s everything you wouldn’t love.

“I know, Geto, I know,” Satoru says through gritted teeth, his bloody hands clenched into fists. He already knows what he’s supposed to do; he doesn’t need another reminder of it. “You don’t have to tell me anything I know of already. Now send that body back as a warning. I’m going home for tonight.”

Geto is stunned, and he’s got every right to be. After all, in his boss’ 28 years of existence, not once has he called anywhere or anyone home.

He’s always claimed himself to be irredeemable, to be unworthy of love and forgiveness, but slowly yet surely, he was beginning to look at life differently after meeting you, after loving you. The word ‘home’ was never in his vocabulary, and yet, every time your face comes up in his mind, it’s the only word he can think of.

He came home a lot earlier than you expected him to. You’re hunched over the table, legs swinging back and forth as you finish your school packets when the door chimes with the familiar beep. It’s only midnight and he’s already here, the excitement manifesting in you as you jump off the stools, running to greet your beloved.

Satoru ends up as a blur of frantic hands tugging his tie off, his scowl seething with anger and regret pouring off of him in waves.

Before you could say anything, he has you pinned on the wall, one knee inside your legs to keep you upright. Satoru is kissing you, hard, one hand raised to keep both your wrists planted above your head. You’re moaning at his aggressiveness, the sounds encouraged by his erection poking at you from your silk robe.

It’s not rare for him to come home in need of a fuck to clear his head, but…something feels different this time around. He feels different, almost like an entirely new person.

Satoru pulls away to press his forehead to yours, his eyes hooded with lust and lips bruised from the kiss. You’re confuzzled; your lover is the exact same person standing before you, the same person grazing at your breasts until your nipples harden at his touch, so then why does it feel like the person who left and came back are entirely two different people.

“Can I fuck you, angel? Please?”

Your words die down your throat.

Satoru’s never said please before, much less look this devastated as he asks to have you. He always says it with exuberant confidence, his present frown usually a smile. There’s no trace of happiness or even playfulness in his eyes this time around. Instead, they’re filled with fear – desperation, even.

You say yes before you realize it, but it’s enough for Satoru. It feels like he’s only been waiting for that word before he goes on a rampage, for his lips are on yours again, patting your thighs as a silent command to jump. You follow his orders and kiss him feverishly until it becomes a battle for dominance, tongue and teeth clashing against the other. Your hands are tugging at his hair from how rough he’s grabbing at your hips, spanking the sensitive flesh that draws a whimper at you.

You don’t know how Satoru manages to find his way to the leather couch even with his eyes closed, but he takes you there, no longer gentle as he throws your weight down. You’re falling, falling, falling as your knees hit the material, cheeks pressed against the headrest. You turn back to kiss him one more time, but Satoru keeps you down there, the sound of his belt unbuckling reaching your ears.

Satoru wraps the leather around his palm, kissing you flat on the lips just as he slaps the material to your ass. He’s pushed your robe to bunch up at your waist, groaning into your mouth upon the realization you’ve been walking around the house butt-naked.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he nips at your lips, feeding off of the pained moans coating his senses at each whip of his belt. “No underwear while I’m gone – you’re begging to be fucked, angel. You’re so filthy,” he swings his arm back to extend the length of the belt, squeezing your ass before he whips it harder against your flesh. You scream at the contact, nails ripping the leather couch and a slight puddle of drool on your lips.

“S-Satoru!”

“What?” he snaps, gripping your jaw, his eyes replaced with something animalistic as he stares at you. The love is gone in his eyes, your lover almost unrecognizable from the way he whips you again. You jut forwards, arousal pooling and dripping down his sofa. His eyes trail down your gushing pussy, nostrils flared before throwing his belt to the other side of the room. The buckle hits one of his expensive vases until it comes crashing down, the sound of it nostalgic to the first time you met him. “Can’t talk, huh, baby? What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” you blurt out, wiggling your hips sensationally at his already throbbing dick. “Please fuck me.”

You suppose you should’ve been more careful with your words, because Satoru lives to please, and if you tell him to do something, you can expect he’ll give his everything.

He knocks the wind out of your lungs by squeezing your waist, sliding himself into you one, full thrust. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but it’s too fast, too early, that the sudden stretch is painfully pleasurable. Satoru delivers one more smack to your flesh that makes it bounce, his growls loud and ragged as he pounds into you.

You’re clutching at the backrest, eyes shut tight as all your attention diverts to the heat in your core. You wish you could see his face, hold his hand or see the way he admires you while he fucks you, but you can’t see anything. Tonight, you could only feel.

Each thrust sends the couch a little ways forward, his balls slapping against your ass. He’s cursing left and right, more focused on getting his anger out his system than pleasuring you. It’s a drastic change to your lover’s behavior in bed, yet you can’t find any muscle in your body that denies this. Satoru can be rough, but he never really goes all out. One way or another, he manages to hold back for your sake, but his mind’s a mess, the voices in his head screaming louder that it drowns out the need to make you cum first.

He’s relentless, grip bruising the harder he fucks into you. You know you’re gone in the instance Satoru plants one foot beside you, the angle causing him to hit deeper.

Satoru ends up fucking into your cervix with each hard thrust, fisting his hand under your robe while he slams forward. It’s so intense that your vision blurs, a faltered grip on the couch. You’re falling limp under his ministrations, his dick successfully hitting that spot that has you seeing white. You’re screaming, babbling nonsense while Satoru uses you as his own fuck toy, pushing past your tight walls and relishing in the way you hug his cock snugly.

He came first, his thrusts growing sloppy and stuttering for a moment. Satoru pulls out so quickly from you that you’re left gasping for air at the sudden emptiness, and that’s when you feel his cum landing on your lower back.

You’re too slow, too weak – or perhaps he’s too strong, too fast – to react properly to his movements.

Satoru doesn’t let you catch your breath as he throws you over his shoulder, your face nearly smacking his ass. You feel dizzy at this position, and the voice in your head tells you that you should be scared he’s manhandling you like this, but seeing him this way – so reveled, so angry, so out of control – has you rubbing your legs, core dripping at the thought of how he’s going to use you tonight.

Your eyes widen when he doesn’t head for the bedroom. You were so sure he’d take you there, but Satoru lays you flat on the marble countertops of the kitchen, the cold biting into your skin.

Satoru doesn’t waste another second before he spreads your legs open and dives into your cunt. You squeal, legs instinctively closing around his head when you feel his tongue lick a flat stripe at your pussy, but he only pushes them apart, encircling your ankles hard to keep you open.

You know he’s strong, but you’re still surprised that he’s capable of rendering you motionless, powerless like this. Your mind wanders off to a dangerous path in wonders of how else he’s hurt someone like this – whether intentionally or unintentionally – but he immediately pulls you back to reality when he sucks your clit, his eyes direct with yours.

His hands trail upwards to squeeze at your breasts, the immediacy of it all firing up that tight knot in your stomach that he failed to snap a while ago.

Satoru’s nose rubs at your skin the harder he sucks at your clit, tugging it upwards until you’re whining around him. It’s always so erotic to see his pretty face buried in your cunt like this; you’ll never get used to him eating you like you’re his last meal. He laps up your juices like a starved man, his tongue prodding between your lips and slurping everything you offer him, one of his arms retracting to slide two fingers inside your sopping hole.

You moan at the sudden intrusion. The sounds of your moans mixing in with the lewd squelching of your dripping pussy is extremely embarrassing, even more so because you’re actually gushing down his palm.

Your juices spread all over his face, and Satoru is greedy, thirsty for more. He pumps harder into you, curling them against the ridges of your walls, and finally, finally you’re there. Your orgasm washes down on you violently that Satoru has to keep a palm flat down on your stomach, his tongue not ceasing from lapping up your juices. You’re convulsing from his hold, stuttered moans rewarding to his ears.

He doesn’t stop coaxing your wetness out of your cunt, his fingers working you out and easing the previous pain of when he entered you without warning. Satoru leans up to help you sit up, his lips colliding with yours for a much gentler kiss this time around.

You cup his cheeks, feeling him slide your body across the counters. Your arousal that he’s failed to clean up remains there until it spreads all over the back of your thighs, the feeling sticky and uncomfortable, but you’re more focused in his tongue dancing with yours. He tastes sweet – like mint and sugar – but his moans are sweeter, the sound dulcet and making you weak on your knees as you taste yourself on him.

Satoru tugs you forward, panic flooding you when you feel nothing under you. You feel like you’re falling again and you immediately encircle your arms around his neck, but he chuckles through the kiss, quick reflexes put into work as he carries you.

The kiss is sloppy yet heated, both of you unable to focus properly when he’s growing hard again. You expect him to take you to the bedroom to finish things for once and for all, but he’s impatient – this much you know the moment he walked in, but somehow keep forgetting – wrapping your legs to his waist instead before slipping inside you.

You mewl into his mouth, eyes snapping open to look at him nervously. His legs are slightly bent as he bounces you on his cock like you weighed nothing.

In this position, he’s hitting deep each time you slide down his cock. Unable to help it, you graze your foreheads with his to stare him deep in the eyes, the usual passion in them slowly returning with each thrust. The work is placed on his shoulders as he holds you close to him, the mind numbing sensation of your erect nipples grazing his sensitive skin enticing him to rut harder into you, all to enjoy the way you fall apart above him.

You’ve been rendered speechless, mouth fallen open to release breathy gasps. Hell, you’re unable to moan, not when his cock is sliding in and out of you so lusciously that you feel every vein protruding from the base of his length. How he manages to walk while fucking you is beyond your comprehension by now, but he seems to be having the time of his life based on his grunting, continuously fucking deep into your pussy so much that he refuses to let you go. Satoru kicks the door to your room open and places you gently on the bed this time, trapping you in his arms but with enough space to let you crawl back up on the bed. You stop as your head hits the pillows, and the mood immediately changes.

Satoru stays still inside you, his large hand cupping your face while you both catch your breath. There’s something unreadable about him. He feels young yet old at the same time, giving you the impression that perhaps he’s still just a child trapped in an old man’s body.

There’s so much fear swirling through the blueness of his eyes that you frown, marveling about what happened to him.

In the intimacy of the moment, you swipe the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek, smiling up at him in hopes he’d realize you’re always there for him. “Satoru,” you whisper, breath hitching as he starts to move. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Satoru props you sideways, your leg flat on the bed while he hooks the other one over his thigh that is spread beside your body. You have to tilt all the way to the side just to see his face, your hand now bent in an awkward position. Although he doesn’t answer vocally, his gentle thrusts are enough to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it – he never does, and he never will – so you shut your mouth, focusing on the pleasure of him hitting deep.

Your heart aches for him. You wish he could tell you everything, to share you his worries, and you can’t enjoy him fucking you too much because you’re crying, chest clenching that he’s growing distant no matter how close he is.

You don’t want to lose him.

“Hey,” he easily reads you, leaning down to flutter his eyes at you. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired, okay, angel? But you’re making me feel good, you always do, so let me do the same for you,” Satoru kisses your tears away, the saltiness of it making him fuck harder into you, all to ignore the screaming inside his head.

He wants to hold you, he wants to kiss you, he wants to keep loving you like this, he wants to be with you, he wants to touch you – but it’s not that easy.

It’ll only keep getting harder in the future, but the future isn’t now. Today is the present, and it’s even more precious because you’re there with him. Right now, you’re untouchable by anyone but him, and it’s only him that gets to fuck you like this, only him who gets to see you whimper under him, only him who gets to kiss you hard while he fucks you deep.

He wants to fuck you hard enough that you never forget the feeling of him inside you.

Maybe he’s selfish, maybe he really is demonic, because he wishes that after this you won’t be satisfied with anyone else. He wants to fuck you hard enough you’ll keep wishing it was him, that it’s him who’s hitting your sweet spots and making you see stars, that it’s only him who can make you feel this good.

Satoru interlaces his hand with yours as he feels you tighten around him, the clamping down of your walls a telltale you’re near. You’re moaning, eyes dropping to where your bodies are connected. His cock is slicked with your arousal and he’s still thrusting to passionately, his hands touching you everywhere with the same ardor and impatience one would have when they know time is limited. And Satoru knows better than everyone that no amount of money can buy enough time in this world, because if such was a case, then he’d have done so long ago.

He silences his demons with the only way he knows how to; by kissing you and burying himself deep inside you, snapping his hips angrily as if they would counterattack his fears. Your hold on him is slipping from the sweat dripping down your bodies, but he doesn’t stop, his cock further stretching you out because he’s growing impossibly bigger.

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you, the motion pulling a gasp from you. He bites down on your shoulder, one hand gripping your other leg open as he grunts into your skin, his thrusts focused more on power than speed. He hits deep each time, the sensation of him sliding out slowly only to push back in vigorously to make your pussy throb too intense for you to even form proper sentences. He’s getting nearer, his thrusts growing more fervent and impatient. Satoru thumbs at your clit to coax you into following him, and with his thumb rubbing your clit and flicking it side to side, you end up finishing before him, your moan high-pitched and broken. He eagerly swallows the sound by releasing after you, refusing to pull out even as he feels both your cum trickle afterwards.

The sensitivity is too much for you that you have to push him away, and he complies, falling at your side but not before wrapping an arm around you first. His heartbeat is pumping under you, your hands tracing circles at his chest while he holds you impossibly close, littering kisses at the crown of your head.

It’s clear that something is wrong, but he won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. You know firsthand how annoying it is when someone can’t respect your space, so you close your eyes and let sleep overtake you instead, basking in the after sex glow and relieved only by his touch.

Hopefully, you think to yourself, he can tell you another time.

“Satoru,” you murmur seconds before falling asleep.

“Yeah?”

“If there’s something wrong…you’ll let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he lies through gritted chest, pushing your head deeper into his sweaty chest. He has a habit of doing this; of pushing you close so you don’t see his face, so you don’t see the tears streaming down his face that are soon lost in your hair. You think that maybe he’s just breathing hard after work and fucking you, but he’s torn inside, feeling too broken that not even you could help fix his heart.

But you’re still there, and that’s enough for him. So he keeps his lips planted on your forehead all the way until the first sliver of light extends its fingertips over the horizon, the orange glow bathing you in an ethereal light while his body remained in the darkness.

It serves as a painful reminder that he’ll never be worthy of your love, that he’ll never earn the blessing that is your heart, that you’ll never truly love him the way he’s always wanted to be loved. Maybe now you think you do, but it will change once the darkness reveals his true nature, and the thought of you pushing him away hurts a lot more than having never been loved in the first place. To him, it’s a thousand times worse when you get a taste of something, only to have it pulled away from you.

And the longer he stays there next to you, he can’t help but picture your smile soon turned into a look of fear, your body bruised with marks and blood instead of his love bites.

They call him the notorious mafia leader who bows and yields to no one, but it’s not true. Gojo Satoru most definitely has his weakness, one that came into a form of his lover, and he can’t handle that you’d get hurt because of him someday that he believes it’s just better to let things be this way.

He’s silent from when he leaves the bed, refusing to look at you one last time as a final resolve of whatever is left in his strength. He quickly dresses himself and picks up your discarded robe on the ground, folding it and leaving it on the counter before shutting the door, the sound of his footsteps mute compared to the frantic beating of his heart.

Geto is already there at the lobby, his face empty yet eyes filled with sympathy. He opens the door for Satoru who slides in wordlessly, his lips pulled into a thin line while he punches in zeroes upon zeroes.

The words transaction complete flashes before him, and for a split second, he gets the urge to run back inside to hold you. But Geto clears his throat from the passenger’s seat, nodding at his phone that Satoru visibly deflates. His hands are numb the whole time he deletes your photos, your videos, and erases your contact, but it only hits hard that its over once he chucked the phone out the window, watching through his sunglasses as the device is crushed under another speeding car.

Its over, its over, its over – it keeps chanting at his head, and he wants to punch himself, wants to never see another daylight again every time he imagines you waking up alone and unable to find him. He wants to be sad, and he is, but there’s that relief blossoming inside him anyway that whispers its over, you’re safe that he can’t help but think…its okay, its over.

With that, Satoru rolls up the windows and nods at the driver who’s been waiting for him the whole time. He makes eye contact with a proud Geto from the rearview mirror, concealing his heartbreak with a laugh as he crosses his leg over the other.

“It’s over,” he says more to himself, “Let’s go.”

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. That’s the reason he got this far in life in the first place, he’s got his tenacity and dedication to thank for. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins as well, and he also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

And the punishment of loving you – only to have you slip from his arms – is a punishment he’ll wholeheartedly accept.

[cazimagines]

Dancing the night away

Synopsis: You accomply Zemo to a ball yet you feel like you don’t truly belong there and you still compare yourself to Zemo’s ex wife but Zemo comforts you and assures you he loves you

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, all the fluff, plus very spicy end scene not 18+ but hella close

Word count: 2k

Authors note: As I promised a fluff one shot after the last one. We all need more loving Zemo in our lives. Also I just wanted to say that I love and appreciate every single one of you who likes and comments on my one shots. I used to write fanfiction on sites like Quotev and Wattpad and they never really got any attention which was quite down heartening to someone who wants to carry on writing for their career so all the love you have been showing to my Zemo one shots mean the world to me. Thank you all so much.

Once again Zemo had outdone himself. Buying you the most expensive dress in the shop, lavishing you with jewelry and make-up. Looking into the mirror even you could admit how stunning you appeared. You were wearing a tight-fitting emerald green dress that flurried out at the bottom in a swirl. The front of it cut down into a low v shape showing off the sides of your breasts.

You looked like how every little girl had always wanted to look like yet you couldn’t help but wonder...was this you?

You had never imagined you would be someone who would have a lot of money or meet someone who owned money. Let alone a Baron. It had happened so suddenly and you were swept up in a daze. It felt unreal, like every time you fall asleep you expect to wake back up in your old bed in your apartment. The truth was, deep down you felt like you didn’t deserve this.

You jumped as you felt hands wrap around your waist. Resting upon your stomach and pulling you in towards their chest.

“You look like the goddess Venus” Zemo whispers as he leans his head on your neck drinking in the scent of your perfume.

“If I hadn’t already promised the president I’d be there I would say screw this dance and take you right here”

“Zemo!” you gasp, your face instantly truing bright red at such a bold remark. You two had never gone that far in your relationship yet. You needed time to be ready before you ever went that far. Zemo respected that choice though he loved to tease you like that.

He chuckles, kissing your neck briefly then pulling back to admire himself in the mirror. “We will be the best looking couple there darling”

“You think so?”

Though his mouth was still turned into a smile he turned to you serious, “I know so y/n”

You break out into a big smile making Zemo smile flashing his teeth as well. He pulls you into a soft kiss, his hands gently holding onto you.

Following Zemo, he leads you to his car and a little while later you arrive at the ball. It felt like there were thousands of people there and they were all staring at you.

Zemo loved the attention. He politely smiled at everyone and greeted his friends there, introducing you to them.

You tried to make polite conversation but you had always been rather awkward. You didn’t know what you could say to people like them but Zemo made up for it by talking for you.

It felt like hours of you walking arm in arm with Zemo till he finally led you to the dance floor.

One hand on your waist and one holding yours, you two started to waltz to the music. Zemo started intently at you. His eyes sparkling in joy just to be in your presence while your face seemed to be in a permanent state of blushing.

“Have I told you just how much I adore your blush?” Zemo asks

You slightly chuckle still looking away, “Everyday” you breathed

“And I will continue telling you every day till you believe it”

“...Zemo”

“Darling, look at me” he whispers

Slowly you manage to drag your eyes off the floor and up into his warm chocolate ones. His grip on your hand tightens as he smiles warmly at you. “Words can not describe how stunning you are y/n. Poets would weep with joy just to be in your presence, even the stars would blow down to your light”

“I love you so much Zemo” you whisper

“I love you too”

You two continue to dance for the rest of the song till the music stops. You excuse yourself to step outside for a few moments.

Though Zemo loved to tell you how much he loved you, there was always a part of you that seemed to always doubt him. You were someone so common compared to him. Compared to his ex. He hardly spoke about her. You knew they were married with a child but they were both killed and it hurt him deeply. One day you snuck into his office and found a picture of her. She was so beautiful, so different to you.

“I hate seeing you looking so down darling” you hear Zemo say as he follows you outside. He stands behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder.

“I’m fine” you try to reply but Zemo shakes his head, “I know you y/n, I know you are upset by something. I want to help you with whatever is lying heavily on your soul but I can’t unless you tell me”

You don’t say anything for a moment, you just breathe in and out trying to calm your nerves. Zemo pulls back from you. He turns you around and picks up your hands in his. He brings them up and kisses them gently.

Finally, you gather up the courage to just let it all go, to just say everything that had been bothering you.

“I don’t feel like I fit in here Zemo! Before I met you I was just an average person. Someone everyone here would look down on. Part of me still finds it hard to believe you even like me. Why would someone like you, a Baron, who could have any supermodel settle for someone like me. It doesn’t make sense. I feel so outcast here and I can’t help but think about your ex-wife. She was so beautiful, I saw that picture in your office of her. I know she is prettier than me and I just can’t understand why you would choose me after being with someone like her. I just don’t understand why you choose me Zemo!” you cried, letting the tears freshly leave your eyes.

Zemo looked shocked as you spoke but his facial expression soon turned to one of sadness. He raised his hands to your face, placing it on your side, and with his thumb, he brushed the tears away.

“Oh, y/n…” he whimpered as he struggled for a moment to find the right words.

With his other arm, he wraps it around your side and pulls you close to him till you could feel his breath on yours. His eyes stare intently into yours as he speaks,

“When I saw you in that restaurant a year ago, I was awestruck. My life had turned to shit. I’d lost everything and it felt like I was drowning in the waves of pain but when I saw you it was like the angels had blessed me. What drew me to you most though was your eyes. In the sun they shone, darling, tantalizing, drawing me in deep and under. I just had to talk to you. Other women may be pretty. Perhaps. But you darling. You look like the gods came down and painted you with the best colours in existence. Everything I say to you I mean and I want you to believe it. I would do anything just so you could see yourself the way I see you. I understand how you feel about my wife. It was my fault, not talking about her to you but the way I love you isn’t the same way I loved her. I always felt like I was forced to be in love with her like it was the right thing to do. Everyone told me I would be an idiot not to pursue her so I did. Yes, I liked her but I never felt connected to her. But you darling, I would throw everything away for you. I don’t care what anyone else says because I love you. I treasure you. Just looking at you makes my heart race still and my body feel warm. I want to hold you, touch you, taste you but at the same time, I’m scared I would taint you. That you were too beautiful, too innocent for the likes of me.” Zemo declares, never taking eyes off you.

Through his words you feel yourself melting. A warmness takes over you as your heart too nervously flutters. You place your hand over his chest and you can feel his heart quickly beating, almost in time to yours. He looks at you, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted as he desperately waits for your words.

“You mean the world to me Zemo, I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you and never will. I could never come close to your way with words but...thank you. For saying that. It...it means so much to me to hear that. I’m still going to occasionally have doubts. I’m afraid that’s the way I am and I don’t think that will ever change but I’m not leaving you Zemo. Never”

Zemo wraps his arms around you bringing you into a hug as you rest on his chest, encompassed in his warmth. “I will be there every moment of every day to help you through your doubts”

Eventually, you pull back to look at him, at his lips. You were so drawn to him at that moment. You two were so close it was intoxicating. Pushing forward, you closed your eyes to kiss him. Zemo’s eyes fluttered shut as well and he raised his hands to wrap in your hair. They got tangled in them and he slightly tugged making you moan.

You both freeze as your blush comes back but you pushed past your embarrassment, kissing Zemo harder. Your core started to warm and this time you weren’t going to run away from your desire. You part your lips slightly and Zemo takes that invitation to explore your mouth with his tongue. You push into his further, wanting to feel his body against yours. This caused him to take a few steps back till he hit a wall. You moved your body slightly up and down his as you two kissed. He pulled back, out of breath as he gazed in wonder at you.

“Am I okay to go further?”

“Yes” you gasp, “Zemo I…” you knew it now, you knew you were ready, “Zemo I want you”

His teeth flash as he smiled at you before he lowered his face to your neck, sucking on a section. His hands also lowered down your back till they grabbed your ass. It elicits more moans out of you as his teeth graze your skin. His mouth wanders all over you like he was attempting to kiss every inch of you. As he moved his head lower you tangled your hands in his soft hair, tugging it slightly which made him groan.

When he reaches your chest area he grabs the back of your legs lifting you. You wrap both your arms and legs around him as he walks you over to a table and lays you down on it. You continue to hold onto him so that his body was between your tights and his chest was pressed against yours.

While everyone danced inside you and Zemo lost yourself to the pleasure outside.

[taechaos]

Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

[bwbatta]

six - confessions

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst

Word count: 2960

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one, turn it upp! ...I won’t lie, i’ve been putting off writing this purely because I don’t want to stop writing this. Anyway, the final part is finally here and I’m so happy to be sharing it with you all! 

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 5

Draco signed his name quickly and looked back at the letter he’d written. It was simple enough to get his point across, yet the repercussions from sending this could be huge. 

The blonde heir was adamant though. If this is what it took, then he would gladly accept whatever consequences came his way. He could figure it out, he always did. 

Taking a breath in to help stabilise his thoughts and nerves, he quickly put his quill down before he wrote anything else that wasn’t needed. Reading it through once more, he made sure his words were enough for now. 

Father,

I apologise for not responding sooner to your previous letter, I was at a loss for a while as to what to write.

I understand our family values and as much as I uphold them for our family’s benefit, my relationship or any of my relationships are my choice. Whilst she is not pureblood, she is not muggleborn either and both of her parents have magic, which is why I ask you to at the very least consider giving Y/N a chance.

With respect, I will not determine my relationship on your opinions, especially since you haven’t met her.

You understand there aren’t many things I would go against you on, but this is something I feel particularly strongly about. 

Regards, 

Draco

Nodding his head, he quickly folded the letter and attached it to his family’s owl. With a screech, the bird took off. 

All Draco could do now was wait.

“Please?! You’re the best person at charms that I know, you would be my favourite person on earth?!”

“Blaise-”

“Y/N please, Flitwick might push for me to be kicked out of Hogwarts if I don’t pass this test”

You snorted unattractively as you walked down the corridor, arms riddled with books. On your way to the Herbology greenhouses for your afternoon lesson, you were blitzed by Blaise who had been trying to convince you for the last five minutes to help him write his essay which was due in a couple days time. 

Blaise and you had nearly made it into the greenhouses when Professor Sprout stopped him at the door.

“You’re not in my class today Mr Zabini, I suggest you get heading towards your own class before you’re late.”

The elder witch gave him a stern look to which he smiled at, trying to lower her strict exterior. 

“I just need to talk to Y/N about something really important really quickly, Professor. It’ll only take a minute?”

“No” she rolled her eyes at the boy, “you can do that in your own time.”

“But, Professor-”

“No buts Zabini-”

“Alright Blaise, I’ll do it” you finally caved, seeing as the boy would most likely be reduced to ash from Sprout’s harsh stare otherwise. 

“Astronomy tower, 8pm?”

“Wait-”

“Okay bye!”

Without another word he turned and rushed off back inside the castle, heading to whatever his next lesson was, leaving you partially annoyed, partially awkward at the look Sprout was now sending you.

“Inside” she cocked her head towards the doorway and with a defeated look you headed into the greenhouse. 

You hadn’t been back to the Astronomy tower, despite classes, since that fight between Draco and you and you weren’t too keen on returning. Blaise however, had given you no choice in the matter as you probably wouldn’t see him until that time you’d agreed to meet. This meant you’d have to suck up your anxieties about the tower and get over yourself. 

If only it were that easy.

Your free period was rather quiet today you reckoned but you couldn’t put your finger on why it was so quiet? 

The twins weren’t around and neither were Harry and Ron, yet that was normal since you were studying in the library with Hermione. Though Hermione didn’t really talk much when you two studied, something still felt off.

Not to mention the other thing which was bothering you was how Blaise acted earlier? He was normally the most relaxed person you knew, but his earlier rushed and fretted actions also seemed wrong.

You snorted at the thought in your head; imagine if he was trying to set you back up with Draco at the astronomy tower later?!

Another sigh left your lips as you continued to try and figure out what else felt off. Hermione’s eyes darted from the essay she was writing to you sat opposite her. 

“Is there something bothering you?”

You met her stare awkwardly and shrugged slightly. 

“I don’t know, does something feel off to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s too quiet, you know? I can’t put my finger on what it is though.”

“Maybe it’s because that blonde tumour isn't attached to your side anymore?!” Hermione snorted as she turned back to her work, leaving you staring at her with an unreadable expression. 

Ignoring the remark of how the witch had described Draco, she was right in the way that he did used to surprise you while you were studying. 

Was that it? You were missing him being near you?

You hadn’t really spoken to the Malfoy, only small comments in class when you were next to each other but apart from that, he wasn’t constantly next to you anymore and that bothered you. 

You had to admit you did like fake dating Draco, but that was over, it was a joke, a favour, nothing more. So why the hell would you accept anything to go back to him annoying you, him being at your side constantly, or his arm around you 90% of the time?

Then you froze.

You knew exactly why.

Holy shit, you loved him. Like actually loved him. 

Slowly starting to freak yourself out, you sat back in your chair as your mind whirred around that fact. 

He’s Draco. 

He’s one of your best friends and now everything was so messed up because he’s Draco.

Stubborn, bratty, arrogant Draco.

Who likes Draco?!

And then it hits you again. You do, you really really do. 

Because he’s Draco.

Because he cares about you and would do anything for you. Just like you’d do anything for him. He might be stubborn, but so are you. He might be bratty and spoilt because of his parents, but he actively spoils you just because he can. And he might be arrogant to everyone else, but you know how humble he could be and acts around you. His reaction after you opened your Christmas present proved that enough. 

Holy shit. 

These feelings are going to ruin whatever’s between you, friendship or not, because how the hell could you keep this to yourself? How the hell could you not tell him you loved him?

The only thing was... you were the second person to ask yourself that today. 

Draco paced in the tower, a letter held tightly in his hand as he waited for you to show up. Guaranteed it wasn't 8pm yet, but he was still so anxious for when you did actually turn up. Were you going to turn up?

A lot of things had flown through his mind today, some putting him on edge as to whether his plan to get you back would work, yet nothing had made him as anxious as when the letter arrived from his father earlier that day.

It was slightly wrinkled now from how much he had fiddled with it in his hands and with a frown, Draco tucked it back into his pocket, forcing himself to take a long breath as he did so and run his hands nervously through his hair.

Not even a moment passed before he heard the door below slam shut and your footsteps approach. A brief flash of panic flew through his body like he’d been electrocuted, what if this was a bad idea? What if you didn’t want him like he wanted you and he would just look like a complete idiot?

All the thoughts in his head however vanished as soon as you reached the top step and your eyes locked on his. 

Neither of you said anything at first and the silence was almost deafening.

“Fucking Blaise,” you rolled your eyes at yourself. “Earlier I bet myself he’d do something like this.”

“It was actually my idea”

“...I see” 

“Surprised?” 

You snorted

“No.” You hid your grin at the look of offence present on his face, “I knew one of you would come up with something like this. I had my money on Blaise as he was the one I spoke to earlier. Despite how much you love being mysterious and complicated Draco, you’re like an open book to me.”

The wizard let out a snort, he had a feeling she would figure something was up. They really did know each other well.

The silence stilted in the air again and felt heavy despite the fresh air surrounding them. 

You looked down, avoiding the blue eyes that watched you. Despite being in love with him, you had no idea what to actually say to him. Luckily he took the lead.

“It was really stupid.”

You frowned, before you forced yourself to glance towards him, eyes catching on how he was looking at you.

“What was?”

“The fact we thought we could pretend and fake an entire relationship with no consequences.”

You didn’t say anything. 

“I mean let’s be honest,” Draco scoffed a laugh, “we really thought that everything would go back to how it was before? That was stupid. Also the fact that the whole ‘having a fake girlfriend’ thing wasn’t really working for me.”

He paused to assess your reaction for a moment before continuing on. 

“We were great as a fake couple, sure. We were also great at being friends, I mean... that was before I kissed you and fell in love with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the confession. A smile grew faintly on his face as he took in your reaction. After realising you weren’t going to bolt, he took a couple steps closer until he stood right before you, his toes almost touching your own. 

“This whole fake dating thing was so stupid in so many ways except for one; how it made me realise how much I genuinely want to be your boyfriend.”

Draco shrugged sightly like it was no big deal, but inside he had to remind his lungs to work.

Why hadn’t you said anything yet? Maybe because he can’t stop his mouth from talking? Should he stop talking? His mouth opened again before he could stop himself.

“I want you. I want us. But I want it for real, not some half-assed, pathetic excuse of relationship which is all just an act and makes us question where we stand with each other.” 

His voice lowered to a whisper but you heard him perfectly. 

“Draco... I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“You do?”

“Yes, but I can’t help the fact that I’m not a pureblood and your parents won’t accept me-”

“Wait, okay, hold on.”

Digging his hand into his pocket, he fished out the crumpled letter and attempted to flatten it out slightly. 

“I sent my father a letter in response the one you read the other day and I got this back earlier today. Just... just read it.”

He held the letter out at you with such a serious expression causing you to frown, you took it from him wondering what was in it. Opening the parchment, your eyes immediately flicked back to the blonde once more, only to find him watching your every movement.

“Draco,

I don’t believe you understand the seriousness of what you’re asking from your mother and I. You have a duty to this family to uphold and despite the notion that you wouldn’t disobey me with much, this is still a vital factor of those duties.

Nevertheless, you expressed your seriousness for this girl, coupled with your mother’s bickering about at least meeting her, I will give you one chance. We will meet her if she values the seriousness and significance of our values. If she does not however, then you will end whatever you have with her. 

You understand in the near future, things will change. You need to be as prepared as possible.

Regards,

Lucius Malfoy”

You read the letter once through, then twice, then once more. Your mind was in a flurry at the words, taking them in and the weight they held. Draco’s parents had agreed to give you a chance, however it came with a price and one you were in two minds about taking. 

On one hand, you could be with Draco and support him through whatever hell was coming your way, as long as you abided by their blood purity mania, which, if Harry was right, meant Voldemort. On the other hand, it meant not having the Malfoy boy in your life.

Your eyes finally left the words and flicked back up to meet Draco’s own. His expression was unreadable as he waited for your reaction.

“Well, that’s intense”

“You can’t really expect anything less from my father.”

“I gathered that.”

Your eyes landed on the elder Malfoy’s name once more and you bit your lip slightly. 

“I said once I would be willing to get mixed up in this for you, and I stand by it, Draco. I don’t know whatever's going to happen in the future but I know I want you by my side through it.”

“I can’t ask you to do that-“

“You’re not asking me, I’m telling you I want you and I’ll do whatever it takes to be at your side.”

“Y/N-”

“Draco, I love you, let me do this for you. I can play whoever your parents want me to be.”

Draco didn’t say anything more but stared at you with a half smile on his face. Your eyebrows knitted together as you caught sight of it, not really sure where the expression came from. Talking about faking your views on blood purity and Voldemort wasn’t really a cause for smiling.

“What?”

“Say it again?”

“Say what again?”

“You love me.”

You realised then. You’d told him you loved him in amidst all that but you hadn't even realised it. Well, that’s one way to admit it. 

“I love you,” you said with no hesitation as a smile grew on your own face. “I want you, for real. No fake relationship, just us.”

As quick as you’d finished speaking, Draco’s lips were on yours. It was chaotic, unscripted and messy, but it was real. 

Your hands slid to the back of his head, fingers burying themselves in his hair as his hands gripped your waist tightly, pressing you to him. He kissed you with such passion you swore your heart stopped for a split second.

How the hell had you both faked this for so long?!

Taking a break, he pulled away but rested his forehead on yours, not wanting too much distance. 

“If you’re all in Y/N, so am I. I’ll protect you with my life, you may’ve been my friend first, but you’re everything to me now.”

His lips pressed against yours again, much softer this time like he was trying to memorise and convince himself you were really there. That this was really happening.

“Draco Malfoy, I’m all in.”

You were surprised the next day for two reasons.

One; for how many people had actually bet on Draco’s and your relationship. George got his five galleons back from Fred again after the news reached them. He happily took the money from his brother before lifting his glass to you from across the hall in thanks. 

Both Crabbe and Goyle owed Blaise 10 galleons, though you supposed he had an unfair advantage, (not that you’d tell the duo). 

But the second thing which surprised you was the letter you received at lunch from the headmaster himself. 

Dumbledore had barely even looked in your direction, let alone spoken to you personally, so the note you got from him asking to meet him in his office later spiked your anxiety. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Hermione shrugged before lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s probably something to do with the DA or Umbridge.”

“Hermione, I didn’t even think he knew I existed, now he’s asking me to come have a chat?”

“Just go, you’ll never know otherwise and you’ll keep fretting.”

The rest of your day passed quickly and you found yourself before the headmaster’s office later that evening. Taking another quick look at the note in your hand, scribbled at the bottom was a comment about him liking sherbet lemons which stuck out to you.

“Sherbet lemons?”

The gargoyle surprised you by jumping out the way, opening up the staircase to you. Without another thought, you climbed the stairs and knocked on the wooden door. 

“Come in.”

Pushing the door open, Dumbledore turned to face you as you entered the room. With a smile, he greeted you and offered you the seat opposite him as he took his own.

Sitting, your knee started to bounce while your anxiety kicked in wondering what the hell was going on. 

“Y/N- can I call you Y/N? Relax, you’re not in any trouble at all, don’t worry.”

“Can I ask then, why am I here sir?”

“Well, I actually have a job for you if you’re interested? I understand you’re in a unique position where you’re willing to do anything possible to be with the young Mr Malfoy.”

You immediately frowned, how the hell did he know that?!

“What kind of job?”

“A job to join the Order of the Phoenix. I want you to act as a spy for me within Voldemort’s ranks.”

[nanaminokanojo]

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 8/8 [COMPLETED]

CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 8/8 WORD COUNT: 4, 800+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | cigarette smoking | strong/mature/suggestive language | alcohol use SPOILERS: n/a STATUS: COMPLETED

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight (final)

"Play the Game" Masterlist

You stood by the door, watching the chaos in your brother’s bedroom as he prepared for his wedding at sunset, waiting for everyone to leave so you can finally speak to him in private. He was, after all, the only one in the family you cared for enough to inform him of your decisions.

People always say you and Gojo were similar. However, those very things that made you alike also set you apart. Besides the platinum white hair and remarkable blue eyes you shared – unique even within the clan – being the absolute obvious, the similarities stopped there.

You siblings were supposed to be akin to one another, but the same things they loved about your brother were the same things people abhorred about you. You and your brother were both prodigies. He was richer than the whole clan, all assets combined being the successful businessman he was ever since he was in his teens. It was as freakish as it was awe-inspiring. You were an artist of great renown with your multi-million dollar pieces and the youngest to have been dubbed as a national artist when you were the same age as him.

But where he basked in fame and acclaim, your prominence was fueled by infamy. Gojo built an empire that served as one of the pillars of the local economy. You produced artistic pieces that inspired execration and controversy. Undeniably brilliant, yes, but absolutely contentious.

Your brother was kind. In fact, he was the best older brother one could ever ask for, and that was not lip service nor was it because of your biases towards him. You can never discount how caring he is to you, how hard he tries to make you happy and how he would go through lengths as to be the idiot just to satisfy your whims. He was just genuinely good-natured although he appeared somewhat insouciant. He had his evil streak, too, which is established in the clan, but his goodness radiated like a light that followed him wherever he went.

However, you have long accepted that your side which reflected Gojo in every way when you were younger had long died. Altruism wasn’t one of your strongest suits and you were only ever affectionate to people you had deep, deep fondness for. And that wasn’t even something common. Even your parents had always been the receiving end of your lackadaisical attitude.

He attracted people, you repelled them. Being surrounded by the good people he called friends was a testament to that no matter how vexing his personality was, and more people want to be near him. Apart from your three friends, you didn't make any more and your school life sucked because majority of your classmates hated you. For what, you didn't know. You don’t think you will ever understand.

It was your seven-year gap that made all the difference, you liked to think. It was much easier to swallow than the concept of the whole cosmos conspiring to create two creatures to be equals but of the opposite nature. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be that way, but you will always be the one looking up to him regardless if you did not choose the same path as his; regardless of whether there were no comparisons with what either of you endeavored to do.

And above everything else, you loved Satoru very much.

“Got a minute?” You began, standing before him in front of the mirror. It was rather annoying watching him struggle with the cufflinks, and you didn’t think he would manage to fix the bowtie still hanging loosely on his neck. Thus, you thought of taking charge. “Give it here.”

Gojo was surprised, but he was nonetheless happy. He wore his heart on his sleeve after all, and you could only guess it was that vulnerability he risked showing that attracted people to him. You have only learned the intricacies of such a matter recently, something you had to agree with since it all made perfect sense.

“Thank you,” he said, tilting his head to the side, watching you work on his cuffs.

“You’re really getting married, huh?” you began, feeling yourself start to falter, but you have decided. You may not have gotten him the best wedding gift materially speaking, but you swore to let him in on what was going on with you, to be honest with him like you hadn’t been for the longest time. “Who would have known?”

“Am I finally getting that emotional pre-wedding sibling talk?” he asked, walking towards the seats by the window and looking out into the garden.

“You’re getting married, not being sent away to prison. I don’t even understand why this happens during weddings,” you quipped, sighing. “But I guess you could call it that.”

He smiled at you, patting the space beside him. You did as you were told, assuming the spot, but also looking out the window, watching as the organizers made finishing touches to the garden below. No expense was spared to make the occasion as perfect as it could get. You couldn’t argue with it. Gojo deserved the best, and to him, Utahime did, too.

“I’m waiting,” he said, breaking the silence that had befallen the room. “You’ve been pacing before the door for god knows how long when you should have been getting ready.”

“I got ready much faster than you did.”

“And you look beautiful.” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing you appreciatively. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re all grown up. And what a beautiful woman you’ve become.”

You smirked. “You’re looking at your mirror image after all.”

“Well, there’s that, of course.” He laughed slightly. “But I’m not just saying that because we’re basically the same person. You really are beautiful, baby sis.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, opting for it instead of his usual choice of mussing your hair since it has already been styled for the wedding.

You just shook your head. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“So, what did you want to talk about exactly?”

“The other day…” Your voice trailed off, thinking about what to say. It wasn’t that way before between you and your brother. He was always the easiest person to talk to, always open minded and optimistic about matters. But now that you were going to discuss something that he had vocally opposed, you were a bit scared of saying anything. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t do Nanami justice if you decided to hold back now, considering that he was more than ready to speak to your brother.

You’ve both initially decided to sit Gojo down and tell him about your decisions together, but you informed Nanami earlier in the day that you needed to have a proper conversation with him first. It wasn’t just your choice to be with Nanami that was the matter, and you wanted to get things straightened out with Gojo before he gets married.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“You said I don’t talk enough to you; that I don’t tell you things anymore.”

Gojo slowly nodded.

You breathed out. “Things changed. We can’t deny that. I grew up and you…well, you’ve decided you want to spend your life with Iori and build your own family.” Your lips curled up awkwardly as you tried to keep your emotions at bay. It was new territory having such talks with him when you’re used to your easy-going dynamic with him. “I’m scared, too. I mean, I can’t just bother you anytime anymore cause you’ll have your wife and eventually children to pay attention to and prioritize.”

He was taken aback by what you said, immediately drawing closer. “What are you saying, Y/N? You’re my sister. Nothing will change –”

“Our bond will not change, dude, but you have to admit that what I’m saying is true.” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. You beamed at the fact that your fingers were structured in the same tapered manner as his. Even the shape of your fingernails were the same, just that his hands were bigger than your delicate ones. “What I’m saying is that even if you need to do that, I will be fine.”

“Of course, you will be. You’re my sister, and above that, you are your own person, and you’re stronger than you think. You’ve been handling things on your own for as long as I can remember.” He pouted, trying to act cute with you. “It’s disappointing, to be honest, because you’ve never really given me the chance to play my role in your life because you’re always the mature one.”

You were confused now. “What are you on about? You’re my only brother, but I can’t imagine anyone else holding that position in my life. You’re the best I could have asked for. I’ve always looked up to you. You’re my role model.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. The fuck are you so surprised for?” You snickered. “That aside, if you felt like I’ve been leaving you out, that’s not the intention at all. I always want you to be the first one to know what’s going on with my life…”

He clucked his tongue. “I understand you’re not doing it on purpose, kid. I’m just worried that you didn’t think I’m worth telling anything because, well, I’m not exactly a proper adult, am I?”

“You’re realizing that now that you’re about to get married?” you taunted him, jabbing your thumb towards the direction of the garden. “Should I tell Iori to call this whole thing off?”

He waved you aside. “Hey, don’t say that!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, there’s something I wanted to tell you for a while now.”

“How long is a while, exactly?”

“Years and years.” You flashed him a rueful smile. “I just couldn’t figure out how to tell you because I am not exactly sure how you feel about it although you’ve told me many times you were opposed to it. What I’m saying it that, I know that fact, but it’s the motivation behind it that is beyond my knowledge.”

Gojo’s eyes rounded, realizing what you were saying. “Are you…”

You nodded. “Yes, I am talking about Kento.”

He just blinked and stood up, pacing around in front of you for a while that you had to stop him from doing it. He had such a bad habit of doing that when he is in deep thought, and always in front of you, too. He was making you dizzy.

You seized him by the wrist. “Please say something.”

“I…”

“Why are you opposed to it?”

He stopped pacing and faced you, taking you by the shoulders, his eyes starting to water. “Y/N…”

“Oh no, are you gonna cry?”

He furiously blinked his tears back, the action almost comical if it weren’t for the serious look on his face. “Because you are my little sister. You think it will be easy for me to just hand you over to anyone? My friends aren’t exceptions to that although I trust them with everything that I have. I will always, always worry about you when it comes to that matter because I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to be taken advantage of, and I don’t want to have to break either Suguru or Kento’s bones when the time comes.”

“I can manage the latter on my own.” You sighed, finding your resolve strengthening. “But like you said, I’m this old now. I want you to understand that I know what I am doing and I am confident about my decisions. Honestly, I didn’t want to talk about this as if I am asking for your permission. This is what I meant when I said I will be fine. I am not saying you don’t have a say in my life, but I am telling you this time because I want you to know before anyone else does.”

“Suguru doesn’t know?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

“Don’t be petty. I tell him things I can’t tell you just like you tell him things you can’t tell me,” but you nodded anyway. “He doesn’t know yet…I think.”

“So…you and Kento…”

You nodded again. “I’m in love with him, Satoru. And he feels the same way.”

“You are?” His expressions softened, hugging you to him. “You’ve grown. Really grown.”

You returned the gesture, holding onto him tight. “Please don’t ever think that I am leaving you out of my life because I always want to tell you everything.”

Just then, he pulled back, his brows furrowing while his eyes narrowed at you. “So, why isn’t he the one telling me this? Where is that bastard?”

You shrugged. “He wants to be here. Trust me. I just asked him if I could talk to you first because I have issues to resolve with you apart from my relationship with him.”

Gojo exhaled, nodding in understanding. “I understand, Y/N. But are you certain?”

“Yes. I’m scared of hurting him, but I’ll do my best, I guess.”

“Hmm, yeah. Maybe you should tone down on your mischief, too. I don’t want him dying of stress because of you. He’s still precious to me.”

At that, you laughed. “I know.”

He poked you on the cheek. “Alright then. If that’s what makes you happy, I won’t stand in your way. You have my blessing.” His teeth clenched then. “But I’m still going to have to talk to him man to man in case he thinks he’s off the hook.”

“Worry about your wedding first,” you jibed.

“I almost forgot about that.”

“I’m telling Iori.”

He shook his head, feigning panic. “Don’t.”

You both ended up laughing, joking about the guests who were arriving at the garden, poking fun at the relatives you both detested but had no choice but to invite. Just like that, you were back to how it used to be, easily conversing and sharing the same sentiments about things and same penchant for devilry.

Soon, the organizer came to his room, informing him that he needed to go to the garden to prepare. You reached up and fixed his tie and jacket for him, holding him at arm’s length to appreciate your handiwork. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you.” He smiled wide but you saw the nervousness in his eyes. “I’m getting married!”

“You are.”

“I’m more anxious about seeing Kento after what you told me,” he stated dramatically.

You eyed him witheringly. “Shut up and pull yourself together.”

He snickered then. “Kidding. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

The two of you walk to the garden, your arm around his. He stood at the spot just by the last row of seats with you, grinning at you when he saw you looking at Nanami who was already dutifully standing on his spot, speaking to Geto.

“Concentrate on your vows, yeah?” you told your brother.

“I’m off.”

“In case we don’t get to talk before you leave for your honeymoon,” you began, “Just know that I am waiting for the speedy arrival of my nieces and nephews.”

Gojo laughed at that, but nodded anyway and said, “I’ll do a good job, I promise.”

“And Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

“I know, kid. I know.” He turned on his heels and walked towards his place at the front pews while you watched, his steps leading you towards the very man you would want to see standing there when the time comes, his halo of golden locks bright under the setting sun but you knew your future with him would be even more brilliant.

**

The familiar bars of Johann Pachelbel’s “Canon” began to play in a modified, slowed-down wedding version made especially for Gojo and Utahime’s wedding, played on the harp, piano and violin, cueing the beginning to the entrance of the bridal entourage. It began with the entrance of the flower girls who scattered petals of different flowers on the white carpet that lined the long aisle.

Arches and bouquets of flowers festooned the garden, with gossamer cloth hanging about, interlaced with live wisteria that hung down from the canopy along with fairy lights that progressively turned on as the sky grew darker. White and pink dominated the color palette as Utahime had wished and the same goes for the reception area. It was probably one of the most beautiful wedding setups Nanami has ever seen.

But his eyes weren’t on the ornaments. They were trained on the end of the walled garden, waiting for your ascent on the marble steps where the white carpet extended, the march made more dramatic by the organizers by opting for a meandering aisle instead of the traditional, straight walkway for the bride. And it did achieve the desired effect when you finally emerged from the steps and into view.

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips upon finally seeing you clad in that familiar faded rose gown he had first seen being fitted on you to perfection. He kissed you while you wore that very article of clothing not long ago at the couturier’s shop, and though he thought back then that he has never seen anything more beautiful, he was amazed at the fact that you looked even more gorgeous in it as you glided towards the front.

He loved you so much it hurts, and although you’ve both professed your deep affections for one another and decided to take things head on together, he still felt like he was in the middle of a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. You came closer, and once more, he was back at the semi-outdoor ballroom the first day he came that week, beholding the goddess that was you but seemingly in a different light – brighter this time, overwhelming him to the point that he had to remind himself how to breathe when you finally looked his way and beamed unabashedly, your affections towards him unmasked, real and not under the guise of a game.

“Kento,” he heard Gojo say softly just then, the man’s blue eyes furtively glancing at him.

“Yes?” he answered in hushed tones.

“Hurt my baby sister and I’ll have your severed head hung by the gates of the estate,” he said. “Are we clear about that?”

Geto snickered, concealing it by facing the other way.

“Understood,” Nanami said seriously. “I’m counting on it.”

When you were near enough, you smiled at your brother and Geto before turning your attention to Nanami. You winked at him as you passed by before turning towards your spot opposite them across the aisle, your attention trained towards the point where you came from.

He couldn’t stop looking at you, not even when he felt Gojo hold onto his arm, squeezing tight as Utahime came into view. He didn’t mean to be insulting to his friends. She was beautiful in her wedding gown and he couldn’t help but be moved by the loving look that your brother had on his face as he watched his wife-to-be come closer, guided by her father who will give her away as the sun set. It was poetic. A new beginning after a beautiful end. He probably looked the same whenever his eyes would find you.

The ceremony carried on as everyone sat down, waiting for the couple to exchange their ‘I do’s.’ their vows, rings and the much-awaited kiss. It was making him emotional, thinking of the time when he himself would draw your veil and get to claim you as his for life in front of everyone you both loved and cared about. He couldn’t wait for it, and he may be getting ahead of himself, but he wanted what Gojo and Utahime had with you.

As the minister announced the pair man and wife, everyone applauded and cheered for them. He did so, too, chuckling when Geto whistled loudly, being his cheeky self. Just then, he nudged Nanami on the side, grinning impudently.

“Is it safe to assume you’re next?” he queried in the same manner.

Nanami rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Who knows? Someone might actually steal your heart in the next months and we’ll be seeing you crying as you watch your bride walk towards you by next year.”

Geto snickered at that. “Yeah, right. You looked like you wanted to jump Y/N and replace Satoru and Iori at the altar all this time.”

“Who wants to replace my brother and sister-in-law at the altar?” they heard you say, appearing out of nowhere, your head tilted to the side as you shifted your blue orbs between the two males, but before either of them could answer, you linked your arm with Nanami who smiled down at you blissfully. You returned the gesture, your cheeks blushing prettily under the twinkling lights overhead.

“I see you’ve figured things out.” Geto smirked, patting Nanami on the back just as Shoko came into view, taking the former by the arm, claiming she needed a smoke. She pulled him away, leaving you and Nanami to yourselves, winking as they walked away.

“So, you told him?” you asked, cocking your head towards the wide lawn where the pergolas were, built on three sides of the square and closed by an elevated area for the band, all surrounding a dance floor under a huge, white tent above, also adorned with thousands of lights. It was your design, solely for the wedding reception and a form of gift to the newlyweds.

“Satoru did indirectly when he said he’ll have my head hung at the gates of Gojo Manor if I hurt you.” He shook his head, laughing slightly. “Bastard had the gall to laugh at me, too.”

“He nearly cried when I told him earlier,” you said, regaling him with how your conversation with Gojo went. “He trusts you and is actually afraid I’ll hurt you, too.”

He shook his head. “It’s all part of the process, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm.”

“We’ll take it head on.” He held your hand, twining your fingers together.

You nodded, squeezing his larger hand. “We will.”

Just then, your friends emerged from the reception area with Noabara taking the lead, mischief drawn all over her face as she approached you. “I took care of the sitting arrangement,” she said to you then turned to Nanami. “Take care of Y/N. Make her cry and –”

“You’ll have my head?” Nanami supplemented but Nobara shook her head. “I’ll tan your hide. Satoru gets your head apparently.”

At that, Nanami laughed, nodding nonetheless. But to your surprise, she also turned her attention to you, holding you by the shoulders. “Are you still playing?”

“Nope.” You pressed your lips together, shaking your head slowly.

She smiled then. “Good.” She glanced at Nanami. “You’ve got you a good one here.”

“I know.”

They left you alone after that much to his relief, but then you said, “Wanna play a game?”

His eyes rounded and he felt tension again once he heard you say those familiar words, always the preamble to every single mischievous stunt you’ve ever pulled on everyone including him. He paused and looked at you. “I thought no more games?”

You smirked at him. “One more won’t hurt.”

He sighed, giving in. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear to god.”

“So, are you in?”

“When did I ever say no to you?”

You giggled. “Great.”

“What is it about this time?” he asked, indulging you.

“Whoever gets a rise out of Satoru first wins.”

“The stakes?”

You just winked suggestively at him.

**

You forfeited. For the first time, you lost in your own game. It counted – albeit momentary – because you initiated the game…said the very words that began everything that paved the way to the result you’ve always wanted. But you did not really consider it a loss when for the long run, you’ve gained the very person you’d always gladly lose to at any given time.

After you father offered a toast for the newlyweds, the speeches began, starting with Utahime’s parents then yours, eventually moving on to you, then the bride and groom’s shared close friends. Geto had been rather irreverent as usual, pointing out the things that both Gojo and Utahime supposedly disliked from one another yet brought them closer, making everyone laugh when Shoko came up the stage and began her speech, saying, “Opposites do attract.”

You sat on your table with Nanami, both of you waiting for your turns. He was next in line after Shoko, smirking at you as he stood up and walked towards the platform and began his piece by congratulating Gojo, “for landing a very gracious woman who has the most enduring patience I have ever known in all mankind, given the grief that Ieiri, Suguru and I had to endure before Iori came to his life.”

He continued on with his witty address, pretty much reflecting what Suguru said and entertaining the crowd enough when he started to express his gratitude. “While I know that this changes nothing between us as the best of friends – including your nature that tested one’s forbearance – I would like to say thank you for many things. Thank you because you are, well, you…” He did a dramatic eye roll.

The guests laughed.

“Thank you because you are a real person who offered friendship to quiet, boring old me,” he said, droning on about the things he appreciated about the couple before saying the things he was thankful to Gojo about. “And thank you, because without you, without our friendship, I wouldn’t have met the very person I also want to walk this earth with for the rest of my life.”

You would have fallen off your seat when Megumi playfully nudged you if it weren’t for Yuuji who also held onto your shoulders from behind your seat, shaking you excitedly.

“If it weren’t for one Gojo Satoru, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.”

You felt all eyes turn towards you, including your parents and your brother, heat suffusing your cheeks as you tried hard to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot for everyone to see. Nanami has outdone you this time, and you knew you didn’t have a chance to go against that when he had so publicly expressed how he felt about you.

“I love her with everything that I am,” he continued, “and I will continue to do so even without your threat to behead me.” He raised his glass. “To Iori and Satoru. May you have the happiest, most prosperous married life from today and for always.”

Geto whistled loudly while the guests applauded. You also stood up, clapping your hands slowly as you shook your head. You’ve lost big time, backed by the fact that your brother stood up raising his glass as he said, “I couldn’t have wished for a better future brother-in-law.” He then looked at you, smiling fondly.

Nanami got Gojo to state his approval for everyone to hear. You can’t win against that even if you nearly made the latter cry.

And now, you were just happy to be in Nanami’s arms as he swayed you both to the tune the jazz band was playing, your arms hanging around his shoulders and your fingers playing with the hair at the base of his head while he held you against him by the waist.

“So?” Nanami began. “How’s that for a final game?”

“Not bad,” you acceded, smirking at him. “I’ll admit defeat.”

“Damn right, you are.” He smiled down at you, his dark eyes reflecting the muted, xanthic lights that surrounded you. “I have a couple of things I’d want you to do for me, by the way.”

You nodded slowly, keeping a straight face at the mention of his prize. “Rules are rules.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Then again, you haven’t told me what you wanted when you won a week ago.”

You grinned, burying your face on his chest, listening to the faint sound of his heart. “But I did get what I want.”

“And that is?”

You met his gaze from under your lashes. “You,” you stated in full confidence.

Nanami nodded, suppressing a smile. “If you say so.”

“I wouldn’t wish for anything else.” You pulled him towards you so you could peck him on the mouth. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what for, but as always, anything for you.”

You chuckled at that. Knowing him, he’ll make good on his words for sure, so much so that you didn’t feel the least bit of worry where your future with him was concerned. “You have to learn how to say no to me.”

“I guess, but since I won, have I finally made it to the list of people you don’t mess with?” he asked.

“As promised, yes.”

“No more games?”

“No more games,” you repeated. “Although I have to say it keeps things interesting between us. Don’t you think so?”

You both dissolved in laughter, the merry mingling of your voices coming to a standstill when he bent down and cupped your cheeks, running his thumb over your cheek before staking his claim on your lips while you returned the gesture in kind, locked in each other’s arms, glad you both played the game. And won.

-THE END-

I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this and kept up with my erratic updating. It's been a good 6 weeks. Thanks!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210814]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[wooyunhwa]

𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 | 𝑱𝒀

Genre: smut

Pairing: Yunho x fem reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings:  very dom!yunho, power dynamic, size kink, corruption kink kind of?, sex with your boss, choking, crying, rough sex, mentions of pain. 

Synopsis: When the heartless boss at your company pulls you into his office for the second time, you prepare to be fired. But he has other plans for you...

Tall, dark, handsome.

Those were the three words you would use to describe him. Sure, they were cliche, but they had never applied to anyone else like they did to him. There was only one problem -- he was your boss. Also… he seemed to hate you. 

Power dynamics had always appealed to you. You were turned on by the idea of control, and he had the most.

On the outside, you looked innocent. You made it a point to dress nicely every day, and your style of choice was soft, sweet, and girly. You wouldn’t say you were that innocent, although your previous sexual experiences had been less that gratifying, and almost excruciatingly vanilla.

Everyone in the office feared him, and you were no exception. Being called into his office was the worst thing anyone could imagine. You and your coworkers would joke around: “You better not take an extra minute on your lunch today, or Yunho will call you into his office.” There was a saying in your department, that if he called you in, you wouldn’t make it out. 

You had been called in once. You were reprimanded harshly about a mistake you made on an important document you had submitted. He was harsh, cold, and his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You thought he was going to fire you on the spot that day. Instead, to your surprise, he let you go. You remember the fear you felt, the anxiety, and most of all you remember the feeling of his gaze on your back as he watched you leave his office. You were humiliated. Ever since that day, you avoided eye contact with him completely. Most people around the office did, anyway.

But that fear made your attraction to him even greater. You couldn’t explain it, but the taboo of it all was appealing to you. It didn’t matter though. You were convinced he hated you, you were just another disposable girl right out of college he could use for a while, and then fire without warning. There was no way anything ever would happen between you, but you couldn’t help but daydream at your desk about the things he could do to you. 

It was Friday, and you were sitting at your desk, watching the clock move slowly. Only 10 minutes to weekend freedom, you thought. The idea washed you over with relief.

The rest of your coworkers had dressed casually today, as they usually did on Fridays, but you were in your usually extra outfit -- a pleated skirt that fell above your knees, a cute blouse with lace trim, and a sweet bow tying your hair up out of your face. You had perfected the balance between cute and professional. Your co-workers sometimes teased you for how you dressed, your cutesy style drawing attention to how small you were. You were often mistaken for younger than you actually were because of it, but you didn’t mind too much. 

Yunho would usually make his rounds around the office to wish everyone a good weekend. It was something he did every Friday, the only day of the week he seemed to have a glimmer of humanity. Regardless, everyone was on edge as he paced through the workspace. 5 minutes left in the day, yet everyone would dig into their work and try to look as busy as possible, fearing punishment if they slacked off.

As he approached your desk, he stopped there for an unusually long amount of time, looming silently. You kept your eyes forward, not daring to acknowledge him before he spoke to you. 

He cleared his throat. “Y/N,” he started. He never used the names of his employees, unless he was reprimanding them, and even then, he rarely did so in front of the whole office. Your name rolling off his tongue made you freeze. 

Fuck, fuck, what did I do? Your mind was in a frenzy. You looked up at him, eyes wide, trembling with anxiety. You probably looked like a deer in headlights. 

He flashed you a smile, and you couldn’t comprehend it. You’d never seen him smile. You couldn’t read it -- was it sinister, or was it genuine? “No need to work so hard,” he said, the words dripping off his tongue smoothly. His deep voice was one of the most attractive things about him. You swallowed, quickly exiting out of your document. “It’s Friday.” You swallowed. “Yes, sir, sorry. I just wanted to get this proposal finished before I left.”

“Mhm…” he leaned his back against your desk, making piercing eye contact. You couldn’t help but glance down at the suit he was wearing. He looked incredible in it... He was so tall and lean, and his perfectly tailored suit accentuated that. You two looked out of place in the office today, the only two who weren’t dressed casually. He towered over you even when you were standing, but especially now, as you had to practically tip your head 90 degrees to meet his gaze. He tapped his fingers on your desk. “Why don’t you see me in my office before you go, okay?” 

You gulped. Those were words you never wanted to hear. “Y-yes sir,” you stammered. He turned his back and walked out into the hallway. You didn’t realize it, but you had been nearly holding your breath for the entire encounter, and as he left, you exhaled in relief, only forgetting for a second what he had asked.

Your coworker made eye contact from across the desk. “Holy fuck, Y/N, what was that?”

“I don’t know…” you responded, still shaken from your interaction.

As you gathered your things and made your way to his office, you mentally prepared to be fired. One time in his office wasn’t too bad, but two? You were toast for sure. 

You made a few quick knocks before entering the room meekly, head down. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact. He was standing behind his desk, tapping his fingers on the wood expectantly. He gestured you over with a finger. Legs wobbly, you made your way over. You expected him to start scolding you, but instead…

“Why do you always dress like that?” he asked. You stopped in your tracks.

Huh? Did you hear him right? “Like- like what sir?”

“So cute. So innocent. Are you trying to tease me?” His voice was firm, and you felt the heat of his gaze on you.

You were taken aback. “No, sir, I-I just like dressing like this,” you stammered. You weren’t sure how to respond. Teasing him? 

He took one step closer to you, closing the distance, and tipped your chin up until you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “You walk around here looking so cute, so innocent, it drives me crazy,” he growled. His voice was lowered even deeper than usual. He looked angry. “Ignoring eye contact, teasing me… I won’t take it.”

“I swear, I’m not trying to tease you. I thought- I thought you hated me. That’s why I avoid eye contact,” your voice was shaky. Your mind was spinning - was this really happening? Did your boss, the one you feared and yet dreamed about, the one you fantasized about, the one you couldn’t help but picture fucking the life out of you… did he just admit to being attracted to you?

He pushed back, his eyes still boring holes in you. “If you can tell me honestly that you’re not attracted to me, that you haven’t been teasing me, I’ll let this go, and I’ll never bother you about it again,” he said, his voice softer now. “But if you can’t…”

“I-” you started, but paused. You contemplated lying. You contemplated saying you’d never thought about it. “I… I can’t tell you that I’ve never thought about you in that way.” You couldn’t believe you were telling him this. 

He leaned his butt up against his desk, and you raised your gaze to meet his. God, he looked so good in that suit. 

“I know everyone here fears me,” he started, “but I’m not a monster...” You couldn’t help but scoff a bit under your breath. He sure did act like one. There wasn’t a soul around the office who didn’t view him as any less than a heartless villain. “Unless you want me to be.” Before you could react to his words, he was in front of you, pinning you against the edge of his desk. You looked around nervously, worried someone was going to see you “Don’t worry,” he assured, leaning closer. “Everyone else is already gone.”

Your legs tensed up from under you, and suddenly you felt dampness pooling between your legs. His sudden display of control had your head spinning. He brought his thumb up to your mouth, wiping it gently across your lips, sending a chill down your spine. He had you completely pinned under him, his other hand pressed flat on the desk for stability. You could feel his dick through his suit, pressing against your body. 

Was this really happening? Was this another one of your dreams about him? If it was, you were completely lucid.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said firmly, as you watched lust grow in his eyes. It was a statement, not a question. You had ample room to protest, but you didn’t. You wanted this even more than he knew.

His lips collided with yours and you took in his taste. He tasted better than you could have ever imagined, and his lips were even softer than they looked. You made out for a good while, passion escalating as your bodies moved and ground against each other. 

He hoisted you up onto his desk to get a better angle on you, pushing himself between your legs, and you felt the bulge in his suit grow against you. He hadn’t even undressed yet, and you could already tell he was huge. He had discarded his suit jacket already, now only left in his well fitted button down and pants, waist cinched in beautifully by his belt. 

He started pulling your clothes off between kisses as he made his way down your neck: first your shirt, your skirt, your bra. His kisses were hungry, desperate, and he went in on your breasts, sucking and licking at your nipples as he moved a hand to your panties. His thumb made circles on your soaked-through panties, and you moaned at the sudden stimulation.

“I can’t wait to ruin you...” he moaned against the skin of your chest, finally pulling off your panties to reveal you fully. He toyed his fingers on the folds of your pussy, testing your wetness, and circling his thumb now on your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing with his fingers, and he inserted two inside of you as he continued to mark your breasts. “So pretty, so innocent,” he breathed against your skin. The warmth of his breath felt so good in the chilly air of his office. 

His long fingers took care of the inside of you while his thumb continued to circle your clit, eliciting squeaks and moans as you started to build to your climax. Before you could go over the edge, he stopped the movement of his fingers, pulling out of you. He knelt down between your legs, admiring you for a moment before slowly swiping his tongue, lapping up wetness. His tongue was everything you ever dreamed about and more, and without much effort on his part, he sent you over the edge, your hips involuntarily bucking up into his face. You felt his lips inch into a wicked smile. “You look so cute when you’re cumming,” he praised. His sweet words felt so contrasted against the lustful look in his eye, and the rough way he handled you.

He pulled back to unbutton his shirt, revealing his figure. His chest glistened lightly with sweat. He always wore well-fitting clothes, so you knew he was fit… but his body was even more incredible than you could have dreamed of. He started to unbuckle his belt, and when he pulled down his pants to reveal his cock, you nearly choked. It was huge. Scary big. There was no way that was going to fit. He must have watched your eyes widen, because his lips twitched up into a devilish grin. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he comforted, “I’m sure you can take it.” 

He positioned himself between your legs, preparing himself with your wetness. You thought he was going to go slow… you were so tiny in comparison to him, and his dick was bigger than you had ever experienced. Instead, he shoved himself in without any warning, leaving you crying out in surprise. You were wet, sure, but that did little to help you take his girth. Not to mention his length...

He brought his large hand up to your throat, easily wrapping his fingers around, applying gentle pressure as he bottomed out inside of you. Your brain didn’t know what to focus on -- his grip tightening around your neck, making your vision go fuzzy, or the pain of his dick inside you stretching you out to your limit. God, he was huge, and you couldn’t believe he even made it inside. 

He squeezed his long fingers around your neck tighter, and for a moment you were certain you were going to lose consciousness. You scrambled to pull his hand from your throat, tears welling up in your eyes, mind starting to fade out of reality. You were released from your high as he loosened his grip, and you sputtered and coughed as involuntary tears spilled down your cheeks.

He hadn’t even moved yet inside of you; instead he sat there, hips flush with yours, torturing you. The hand that had been glued to your neck like a vice moved to the cup under your chin, pulling your gaze to meet his. 

“You look like a mess,” he cooed. His words were harsh, but his voice was like honey. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He swiped the back of his hand across your face, smearing your tears across your cheek. Still pushed deep inside of you, he leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on your jaw, tasting the saltwater off your skin. 

Without warning, he took an aggressive thrust inside of you, causing you to cry out. “Shh, shh, angel,” he shushed sweetly, stroking your hair softly. “I know you can take it.” You loved when he the way he talked to you, soothed you. Something about his words and his tone of voice were so comforting despite the less-than-gentle way he handled you.

“You’re so big- it hurts- I’ve never-- ah-” he thrusted in again, and tears again spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t tell if the pain was overwhelming the pleasure, or the pleasure overwhelming the pain. 

“You know you can tell me if you want me to stop.” Another hard thrust. You let out a choked moan, unable to control the noises you were making. 

“No, no, I want this,” you persisted. You could take whatever he had for you. You had been dreaming of fucking him since the moment you saw him, and you weren’t going to let a bit of pain come in the way of your opportunity.

He pulled out of you suddenly, filling you with emptiness, and you let out a gasp. He grabbed you haphazardly and flipped you over on to your stomach, easily maneuvering your body with his large hands, like a toy. You were draped over the desk like a doll. He grabbed your hips and pulled them against his.. His hands took their time positioning on your hips, and he seemed to be admiring the view he had. “So tiny…” he mused, admiring the small of your waist from this angle. “I could destroy you.” 

You shivered. His words felt like a threat, and yet you welcomed the thought of him ruining you. 

This time he entered you slowly -- almost too slowly. It was torturous as he took his time, and it wasn’t any easier the second time for his dick to spread you open. He pumped shallowly, tracing his fingers along the skin of your back and sides. It tickled, and you couldn’t help but squirm and giggle a bit, letting your guard down. 

That’s when he made his move. He thrusted into you even harder than before, causing you to yelp. “Sir- ah-” you moaned, giving in to the pain a bit. One of his hands came to grip your hair from behind, tugging your head back as he thrust into you deeply, finally getting into a rhythm with his hips. The pain subsided as he pumped in and out, and your pleasured moans harmonized with his throaty grunts as you moved together. You felt barely in control of your own vocal cords, every so often choking out a “fuck”, “please don’t stop”, or crying out his name.

His hips against your ass made a loud slapping sound with every thrust. From this angle you could feel every inch of him fully inside you, scraping against your tight walls. The sensations seemed to have doubled. “You're so tight,” he growled, his breathing getting heavier, approaching his climax. He delivered a final thrust before pulling out, and you felt warm liquid spill onto your back as he came. You immediately collapsed your upper body onto the desk, your legs barely holding you up. 

He lifted you off the desk easily in a bridal hold position and laid you down on the couch in the corner of his office. He left briefly for the bathroom and came back with a few paper towels to wipe you off with, singing you sweet praises as he took care of you. His voice again was sweet, smooth like honey. “What a good girl you were,” he said softly, leaning up to your ear. He lowered his voice into a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Next time we can see how pretty you look choking on my cock.”

All you could do was nod wordlessly. You were breathless, eyes heavy, succumbing to the darkness beneath your lids. You thought about trying to get up, as you weren’t really keen to the idea of falling asleep in the office, but there was no way you’d be able to stand on your feet, let alone drive home. You felt him draw a blanket over you, covering you in much needed warmth. “I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispered into your ear as you drifted off. “The keys out of the building are on the desk.” And with that, the world fell away.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Half of the things that regarding Tam in Kotlc frustrate me honestly. It feels like he’s pushed aside in the series so frequently, and I feel like this really peaked when he was in the Neverseen in Legacy. First off, it kinda rubbed me the wrong way the way that half of the characters were acting like Tam betrayed them? And maybe I just horribly misread the scene in which he was taken to the Neverseen, but I would not say that was a consensual decision, like at all. Gisela basically just said “Hey come with me or I’m making an entire species extinct and killing your sister.” like that’s manipulation that’s not what an honest decision looks like. I just felt so bad for him because he was borderline kidnapped by this awful group and it felt like no one was taking it seriously. Sophie reached out to him once on her own, and then once again when Linh pushes her to. That’s about all she did to try to help Tam for pretty much the entire book, unless I’m forgetting something. It just frustrates me, especially considering how much she did to try to figure out who her parents were during that book. This isn’t a thing against Sophie, it’s just that the things she did during that book kinda make it seem like Sophie being able to get a matchmakers list is more important than Tam being kidnapped. I don’t know, I just feel bad for Tam it always feels like he’s getting the short end of the stick when he seems like he’s one of the characters who would need support the most? I mean, he’s got so much to deal with and half of his scenes just feel like “here’s a scarring situation for you Tam! Now go back home to Linh or something.” Also, the way they described Tam being chained and mind-controlled actually made me sick that’s really horrific. (Also I don’t know where to put this, but characters keep acting like Tam’s super-ultra edgy and I don’t really see it? This is probably just me, but he’s always seemed more like a really stressed out person to me, not necessarily edgy. This might just be because he’s in a stressful situation in like 80% of the scenes he’s in.) I’ll be honest, Tam just kind of feels like a punching-bag character half the time.

tam is one of my favorite characters so i'm looking forward to this one, nonsie

I do feel that Tam's situation was treated very similarly to Keefe's, though there was actually a lot differentiating the two, which makes it feel weird. To summarize, Keefe ran away to the Neverseen, actively making that choice, and Sophie decided to trust him with that decision. She thought it was dumb and that they'd have to rescue him, but it had been his choice. And she coordinated with him, reaching out nightly to see what was going on and to get a sense of how he was doing. She was actively doing what she could to monitor him and balance her other responsibilities

some of this mindset carried over into Tam, while I think he should've been approached differently. because this wasn't his choice. it wasn't coordinated, and he didn't want to be there. he wanted out, and he wanted to be out safely. My mind is linking it to that one conversation with Sophie you mentioned, the one with Linh. Specifically because he told Sophie not to reach out to him, and said "I. LIKE. IT. HERE[...]I'M EVEN MAKING FRIENDS," (Legacy 407). I think this kinda led us to the "Tam wants to be there the way Keefe did" connection that really isn't accurate. he was threatened into joining, and nothing he says after the fact will erase that.

additionally, while Tam was with the Neverseen, Gethen was back and could search his mind, which was why Sophie didn't reach out to him more than twice. it was a risk that could put Tam in direct danger, and he wouldn't know when it was coming and couldn't agree to that risk. so if the two paths of action we're applying to Keefe and tam are to try and physically remove them from the situation or keep tabs on them, since contacting him is off the table, you'd think they'd focus more heavily on trying to get him back. but they...didn't.

I agree with your assessment of her priorities as well. i don't fault her for trying to figure out who her bio parents are or for wanting to explore matchmaking, i'm judging her for her timing. because she's consistently been very motivated by her friends and keeping them safe, it feels a little off that she prioritized matchmaking over Tam's physical safety. i know the love triangle and romantic drama has a lot of draw for some of the younger fandom base, but I feel as though it was prioritized too much and actually betrayed some of Sophie's key values for publicity.

and going back to the "he always draws the short end of the stick," thing, I think you're exactly right. i honestly can't think of any scenes off the top of my head with Tam where he's allowed to just be a teenager and take a break. There's always drama with him, which I think in part comes from the "sarcastic dark aesthetic friend" he's kinda gotten boxed into. he's there to be dry and pessimistic and further the conversation. note: he doesn't actually seem like a dry/dark outlook person as much as a lot of us (myself included sometimes) make him out to be. yes, he uses a lot of sarcasm, but that's not synonymous with dark and edgy.

to me he sounds like..,bitter? and resigned? and just generally annoyed to be there but doesn't want to show it. i don't think that makes sense so let me expand on it. he feels like when one friend of yours has invited you into a group of theirs friends (none of whom you know) and you're just kinda existing in the same space but are slightly uncomfortable and don't know what to do with yourself, but you don't want to let it show and risk offending anyone. you talk and fake your way through it but it feels off and you just don't like it and don't want to be uncomfortable anymore. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually has a lot of anxiety that everyone around him just doesn't pick up on

his life changed drastically very quickly and he doesn't have a lot of friends. sure, there's the group, but they're not friends in that way. tell me, can you think of one person Tam would tell his worries or fears to? I can't. the most obvious might be linh, but I don't believe he'd tell her, because he'd want to protect her instead of burdening her with his worries. I think he's tied to her a lot and seen as a package deal in a lot of canon--and frequently in fanon--so it can be hard to separate them at times,

I might be jumping around a little, but back to the chains. those are incredibly fucked up, and I don't think they're given the appropriate emotional response they deserved. this is a teenager who has been physically chained for all hours of the day, for weeks. and he's just living with it, knowing he can't take them off. and when Sophie learns and tells Mr. Forkle, his response is that he's never heard of something like that before and would need to research it. Like?? excuse me?? one of the minors you let swear fealty to your organization is literally chained and you're 1. not trying to get him back 2. just saying you need to research it.

that's another thing! everything I remember (and I might be forgetting something) is the teenagers talking about Tam being missing and how they need a plan and want him back. But there are several adults in his life now who could step forward to take that responsibility. Tiergan. Mr. Forkle, Squall, the bodyguards, any dwarves working with the Black Swan, etc. You know, these adults with loads more resources and people at their disposal. they could do something, organize something, make an effort. A child was kidnapped and it feels like they went "wow that sucks. hope we get him back. anyways--" idk. that's just something that's bothered me.

he just keeps getting hurt again and again. it's like that's all we focus on with his character, him being sarcastic and dark in stressful situations and not him just existing. we see him fighting with his parents, fighting with the neverseen, being teased and singled out when he's around Keefe, like can he catch a break? can we just let him smile for once?

I, for one, think he deserves to be more than just a punching bag, nonsie

[slytherinsnekxvii]

let's talk about lily evans. she's an interesting character—or rather, the case surrounding her character is quite interesting.

i honestly don't know if i can say i dislike her. by all means, she should be a fan favourite, and she is... but for some rather intriguing reasons.

for one thing, due to the fact she's hardly expanded on in the series, certain parts of the fandom have been forced to either take the few qualities that she displays canonically and amplify them to the extreme (eg. immediate righteous anger at the slightest hint of injustice in fic) or create an entirely new personality (eg. no, i didn't actually disapprove of your pranks, it was just sexual tension). of course, the option of creating a new personality is much more tempting when you can just add amplified canon traits on the side.

for another, her relationship with james sometimes seems likes it's being weaponized against snape and his fans. i've seen arguments that go like "haha, snape just wanted to fuck lily, but james got her in the end anyway, sucks to be you", and not only does it entirely reduce her to an object, it feels like they don't even care about the relationship, the dynamics or the characters. she's basically a plot device.

and thirdly, half of her characterisation in fic is to be a peter stand-in. we don't like the rat man, so let's take the pretty girl and put her in place of the guy who was canonically a member of the marauders, even up until he was named secret keeper. suddenly, she's a prankster and an enabler.

but, snek, you may say, all of that is fanon lily, tho. you just explained that people seem to like her because they just put any personality they want into her as long as she's at least vaguely a good person. you would be right.

let's look at canon lily. she's described as the brightest witch of her age, most everyone speaks favourably of her. in fact, the only people we see actively disliking/being upset with her are petunia, out of jealousy and the invasion of privacy concerning her letter, severus, who lashed out and used a slur that also applied to him in a moment of serious distress and apologised after, and well, pureblood supremacists by virtue of her being muggleborn. interestingly enough, even this dislike manages to develop everyone's character more than it does her own.

as a teenage girl myself, let's look at her actions as a teenage girl. not necessarily in chronological order because I'm writing this at 2am and my memory is already mediocre at best.

1. she's done well enough in school to be considered trustworthy and responsible enough to be a prefect.

okay, i can respect that. a good few of the prefects at my school were really just appointed based on how much the teachers liked you, but at hogwarts, there's so few of them that they must put at least a little effort into it, so i'll move on.

2. she does not press for details when informed that her best friend's life needed to be saved by someone who has been publicly tormenting him for years

now, see, there's no reason why she needs to play therapist. it's not her job, she's just a girl, and we know that snape wasn't supposed to talk about the incident, so he would've been stuck if she had asked for an explanation. however, i also feel like she doesn't seem particularly concerned about his wellbeing, and when he brings up his concerns about lupin, rather than ask for proof, she dismisses it. which, fair enough, i would hate to listen to someone talk about the same thing over and over and over, but, i also feel like the fixation on a theory like that would be cause for concern.

3. she dismisses the actions of a group known to play tricks that harm people and have specifically been tormenting her best friend on the basis that they don't use dark magic

first, i'm going to establish what i usually assume dark magic refers to. aside from jinxes, hexes and curses, i also include anything that produces an effect similar to any of the unforgivables (takes away your life, your free will or your ability to feel safe in your own body, such as when you're in excruciating pain), and magic that would require a sacrifice of some sort.

when snape tries to point out the danger in what the marauders do, she insists that they don't use dark magic. and they don't... but they do use illegal magic. she then argues against the company that snape keeps, which, again, to be fair, is justified considering mulciber's done something to mary macdonald... it's also not a particularly realistic ask. snape probably shares a dorm with these guys, and he's a poor half-blood so he's already on the outs. as far as he knows, any dissent will be met with him getting hexed in his sleep. but, i digress.

given that the marauders have been shown to be doing extremely dangerous with little regards to anyone's safety, and actively tormenting her best friend, i disagree with her choice here. on the other hand, she's made her own friends in gryffindor and perhaps she sees a nicer side of them that we don't get to. she's justified in her actions, but i still disagree.

4. she intervenes when her best friend is hung upside down by a spell of his own invention at the wands of the people who have tormenting him for years

she does object to the marauders' treatment of him, and she does try to get them to let him down. if i were in her position, i would absolutely do the same. i respect the decision to stand up for her friend.

5. she does not seriously attempt to help him or punish the marauders

i do not respect how she handled it. at any point, she could have drawn her wand. but, snek, you say, perhaps she didn't want to get involved physically. she wanted to follow the rules. in that case, at any point, she could taken points, assigned detention, or sent someone to get a member of staff. she does none of those things and i viscerally disagree. if we were ever friends and someone tried to hurt you, i can assure you that i would try to at least see to it that they'd be punished, even if it wasn't immediate or by my own hand. lily, however, chooses to argue rather than take action.

6. she smiles when severus gets hung upside down

chances are, it was more than likely an involuntary reaction, like laughing when your friend has fallen over. however, the fact that it was intentionally written in seems like it's mean to be an indicator that the friendship was already falling apart.

7. she comments on her best friend's poverty and uses a name that's been used to make fun of him after he calls her a slur that also applies to him

she was 100% within her rights to be upset by being called a slur. it is never okay to use slurs. the only situation in which a slur could possibly ever be appropriate would be if you were an oppressed group attempting to reclaim said slur which is not at all what snape was doing here. he was experiencing cruelty, being humiliated, publicly, for no reason beyond existing and he was in distress, choking on soap and upside down. it was damaging to his pride, especially when james suggests that he needs lily to fight his battles for him (paraphrasing) which is an emasculating statement to make, especially to a teenage boy. so, snape lashes out with the most hurtful word he could think of, which happened to be a slur that also applies to him. lily was 100% justified in being upset about this, and she retaliated in kind. she was very much allowed to say what she said. i understand that she was hurt and angry and i respect that, especially as i can't guarantee that i would not have been just as upset in that situation.

8. even when the threat of sexual harassment is made, she still does nothing

i get it, at this point, she's hurt, she's mad, she wants him to suffer since she's a teenage girl and teenage girls hold grudges like it's nobody's business, but... i definitely couldn't just stand by and watch it happen. she basically just let them go through with it.

9. she does not accept her best friend's apology for calling her a slur that also applies to him, effectively burying the friendship

she is, by no means, obligated to continue being friends with him. however, if i were in that position, and the apology was sincere, i would take the friend back.

10. she goes on to date and eventually marry the guy who bullied her former best friend for his entire school life

no. i disagree. but, snek, you say, james changed. no. he didn't. we know, that at this point, james was still going after snape behind lily's back. you can say that she didn't know, but that means that she would have allowed james to lie to her and that doesn't sit right with me bc a relationship built on lies is a relationship that is going to fall apart, especially when your partner has been disappointed by your actions before. you can say that she did know, and that proves that she simply didn't take her responsibilities as head girl seriously enough to stop the head boy from harassing people when she explicitly told him not to. the point is, no. there is no way that this would have worked out as a long term relationship. james is too comfortable lying to her. i can't even say she was justified. there is no circumstance where i personally see this as okay for anybody involved.

alright, so, essentially teenage lily was justified in (most of) her actions, even if i find them questionable.

adult lily dies at 21, while saving her son, but her death also helps save the wizarding world. good job. she, as expected, did what any good mother would.

and that's canon lily.

my thoughts: she's a perfect example of why writing tips are so adamant on making sure people try to show and not tell. we were told that lily is meant to be good and pure and lovely, but the author never bothered to actually prove that, so what we're left with a dissonance between what we see and what we know.

as a result, i still don't know if i truly dislike her. her actions are justified, but they don't match with what we've been told, and we don't have any other information to go off of. at best, i can say for certain that i disagree with many of her choices, despite understanding why she would have made them (except for marrying james potter, uggghh, the only good thing to come out of that was harry and the saving of the wizarding world by extension, ig).

thanks for reading all that, btw! hope it made sense :)

[doomstypewriter]

Excuse me while I panic

Hello, and welcome back to the sh1tshow. Today's chapter is about betrayal. Actually yes but no, it's about misunderstandings and Roman and Janus kind of talking about the issues between them. Does anything get fully resolved? Of course not. But it's a start.

Also, some quality Janus for all of you moceit shippers.

Word count: 1194 | AO3 | <<Previous

Summary: After seeing Virgil so distraught, Roman decides to confront Janus.

CW: Angst, angry crying, Roman and Janus' issues, screaming, arguing, unsympathetic Janus (from Roman's point of view though, and just at the beginning), unsympathetic Roman (same as before, this is from Janus' point of view), swearing.

Let's accuse the snake of committing heinous crimes

Like a very organised opera dressing room.

That’s how Roman would describe Janus’ room once he rose inside.

“It’d be a pity if you knocked, Roman” Janus acknowledged him without bothering to look.

He was applying some heavy moisturizer to his reptile side. The creme made his scales looked kind of fuzzy and dull. Odd choice.

Janus went still.

“Okay, guess you won’t be leaving”, he said. “What can I be so pleased to help you with, Roman?” Janus finally stared at him.

“Ew, what’s up with your eye?”

His left eye looked glazed over. The pupil a hazy shade of blue, just like the iris. It was as if a semi-opaque layer of greyish blue had been laid onto the cornea.

“I’m shedding. Thanks for asking. I love to show it off. That’s exactly why I keep to myself when it happens. But enough about me, what do you want?”

Roman frowned.

“What are you playing at?”

“I AM shedding. It happens every now and then”.

“No. With Virgil”.

“Ah. Well, you see, I am actually trying to murder him. He spends so much time at those stairs that it’s almost like he’s asking for it”.

For a microsecond, Roman had the nerve to be horrified. Janus rolled his eyes at it.

“I know I’m an excellent liar Roman, but even someone as dim as you cannot believe that I honestly intend to kill Virgil. Among other things, we cannot be killed. Remember how much Remus tries? If it were possible I’d say, by this time, you’d be dead”.

“Then what are you plotting?”

Roman wanted to punch Janus when he heard him laugh. Still, he had sort of promised Virgil not to, so he had to make do by glaring at him and hoping he would magically be set on fire.

“My, my… one wouldn’t tell if you hold me to a high standard or a really low one” Janus wiped the tears from his eyes theatrically. After that, his tone darkened. “Being me, I guess the bar must be on the floor. You make it so easy to step over it to taunt you, dear”.

His fists tightened.

‘Do not punch him’, Roman had to mentally repeat to himself.

He felt mortified when he realised that a part of him felt so angry it made him want to cry. In an attempt to maintain his barely convincing menacing aura, Roman sucked up the tears and tried to sound detached.

“How--How can you be…” so much for keeping his tone unaffected.

The reaction from Janus was hardly distinguishable from surprise, amusement or… yes, guilt, not too much, but present.

“So evil?”

“I’m not” Janus replied categorically, his mocking tone gone.

“Really? Then why do you always have to play with everyone? Why do you always have some secret agenda?”

“I do--”

“Yes you do!” Roman interrupted him, finally tearing up. “Have you any idea what you’re making him go through? Why are you so selfish?!”

Janus tensed up, letting some of the hurt show on his face.

“Being selfish isn’t bad and--”

“It IS bad when you use it as an excuse to ignore that you’re hurting people. Which is exactly what you’re doing right now! No one is asking you to stop thinking about yourself”, Roman began to laugh bitterly, “I don’t even know if you can!

“Oh, right! That’s exactly why I helped you in the first place, Roman! Because I only care about myself! Have you forgotten who was the one who tried to convince everyone to choose the… what was it? Oh, the callback you desperately wanted to go to. After wasting away in a wedding anyone would think you’d see who had your best interests in mind. But I guess--”

“Shut up! I don’t care about the callback! Not… not anymore. At least this isn’t why I came here”.

“Then what do you want from me, Roman? Did you just want to feel morally superior and gloat?”

“I want you to tell me the truth. I’m so tired. Why did you even tell me to pursue Virgil if you hate me? Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

After one exasperated sigh, Janus put the creme down.

Meanwhile, Roman massaged his temples.

Seeing Virgil turning into a ball because of how confused and terrified he felt had gotten to him like no other thing.

The circling motions of his fingers came to a sudden halt.

“Patton. Does he know what you’re doing? I-- he trusts you! It’s one thing to have it out for me or be all weird with Virge, but if you even think about hurting him--”

Janus smashed his hands on the dresser.

“I’d never hurt Patton!”

“How can anyone believe what you would or wouldn’t do?!” he mirrored Virgil’s earlier words.

“Let me ask you this instead, how can you be so fucking stupid to think I’d ever do something to harm him?!”

“Because Virgil thought you cared about him and you stabbed him in the back, because I thought you liked me and then you used me! You’re using me right now and I don’t know what for, how can I put it past you to have Patton--”

“I’m not using you! I’m trying to be better because I want Patton to be happy!”

Roman quieted, fully taken aback.

“Wha...what?”

Janus huffed.

“Do you need me to also spell it out for you? I love him”.

His head lowered. Janus clasped his hands together, squeezing, as he brought them to his chest in a gesture that looked almost vulnerable, as if he was trying to push every feeling out of sight.

“He wanted me to apologise. But I don’t feel like I owe you that. After mocking me as you did, I think we’re even. Still… I understood that he wanted us to get along, so I decided I could do something nice for you. But I suppose wanting to fix one of your many oversights”, Janus looked up, “is my most diabolical plan yet. Right?”

“Umm… but you could just use it to get to Virgil…” Roman began to lose his resolve.

“Or I could be using it to also do something for him”, Janus began to say as if talking to a child, “because I never stopped caring about him, and things aren’t black or white as you seem to think, and I want to make Virgil happy too. I know, groundbreaking”.

The prince froze in place.

“But why would it make Virgil happy?”

Janus half-sighed, half-laughed in disbelief.

“For fuck’s sake, Roman. Why do you think?”

“Emm… oh”.

“Why are you still here? Go and talk to him”.

Roman started to head for the door, feeling like bursting at the seams.

“Before you leave, don’t get up to any of your usual nonsense. Use your pretty mouth and talk like an actual human being”.

“Will do!”

The door bashed against the frame as Roman ran out like a headless chicken. Janus ran his hands over his face.

“Now what?” he looked at Roman peeking in again.

“Hmm… thank you, Janus”.

“Love to help, now leave!”

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[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol. 12: Mukami Ruki [Another Story]

Original title: アナザーストーリー

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [Deluxe Edition]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Translator’s note: I feel very much conflicted about this CD still. While I do kind of like how they took a different approach with the Another Story track and the way it ends, I still think Ruki went way too far in the main CD. It was interesting to see everything from his perspective too, although this means there’s a bunch of inner monologues in this and it’s Ruki so they’re quite long. I try to break up the paragraphs by describing what happens based on background sounds and such but this one just has a bunch of rambling lol. 

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

“Lately, she has been formidable. Even though she was always the type of girl to make the most foolish mistakes, to the point where one would wonder if she did it on purpose. She has not been getting scolded by me either. That does not bother me. Or at least, it shouldn’t bother me. So why do I feel so...restless?”

*Ding・dongー Ding・dong*

Ruki walks up to you in the inner courtyard.

( So that’s where she’s been...Look at her just casually watering the plants... No wonder she did not show up in the library. I assume she has completely forgotten about our meeting. )

“So this is where you’ve been.”

You flinch.

( Huh? What’s wrong? Why would she be so surprised just because I called out for her? Also...Under normal circumstances, I’d assume she would panic and spray water all over me with that hose she just so conveniently happens to be holding. Yet, she made the wise decision and turned off the water. )

“Oh well. I shall praise you for ceasing your actions as soon as you saw your Master approach. However, there should be something you have forgotten.”

You bring up the promise.

“Oh? So you do remember. Then you should have just hurried to the library.”

( Now this is new. I didn’t think a scatterbrain such as herself would have remembered our plan to meet up. No, if she remembered, she should have come to me straight away. Did she only just now remember? Even so, her behavior is off. Or am I simply overthinking things? )

*TIMESKIP*

( Once it starts boiling, the dressing will be complete. Which leaves just plating the salad. )

You enter the kitchen.

“...Hm? You’re already here? You almost resemble a dog or a cat rather than livestock, lured in by the scent like that. Let me tell you just in case, it is not feeding time just yet. Wait until I’m done preparing it.“

You nod and leave.

( Oh? She left without offering to help? I’m glad to see her so obedient, but then what did she come for in the first place? Usually she would insist on helping even if it’s more of a bother and either cut her finger or break one of the plates. Those are the kind of things she does. )

He turns off the stove.

“What is this feeling as if something is...off? Something about the way she’s been acting trips me up. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her make a blunder even once as of late. That isn’t something which should bother me, but I just can’t seem to get rid of this unsettling feeling in my chest. What has gotten into her...?”

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki enters the room

“We finally made it back. That was quite the disaster. ...Honestly, why do I have to wear the clothes she picked out for me? Well, I suppose she did not make a bad choice for once. I’ll add it to my collection of casual wear. That being said...Nothing happened today either.”

He takes a seat on the bed.

“How many days has it been since she stopped making mistakes? She won’t even show dangerous behavior. What kind of miracle is this? No, I do not mind that. I shouldn’t mind it. It basically means a huge pressure has been lifted off my shoulders. Then why do I feel so conflicted? Her suspicious behavior piques my interest, but even beyond that...”

( I felt as if something was lacking. Oh, I get it now. It all makes sense now. I have not gotten to taste her blood as of late, so I must feel unsatisfied. I am not the type of guy who easily becomes thirsty for blood, nor would I indulge in her without a good reason. However, with less opportunities to punish her, our time together automatically decreased as well. To be upset because of that, I must seem like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum because his mother does not pay enough attention to him. It is obvious since when I have become so obsessed with her

...Since the moment I decided to betray the whole word and chose her, I must have already been enraptured by her. Harshly sucking her blood while restraining her movements was something which fulfilled my desire for dominance. It most definitely made me feel good. However, somewhere deep inside, I felt relieved when she accepted me without fighting back against it. At some point, I even began to cherish those moments where I would pierce my fangs through her skin. I must be quite the easy man as well. I always thought I was in charge, but I may have actually been the one wrapped around her little finger instead. (1) I cannot show myself to that man like this. No, I assume he is already well aware. )

Ruki suddeny raises his head.

“Hm...? That man? Speaking of which, that hourglass I gave her...I considered the possibility but could it be...? Even if she were to make some sort of mistake, if she rewinds time, she could do the same scenario over again. If she makes it so only she remembers, it would be easy to keep it hidden from me. I wanted to believe I was simply overthinking things, but now that I think about it with a clear mind, it really is suspicious...I’m sure that even someone as slow as herself would eventually get things right after two of three tries. If she has been using that hourglass to cover up her own mess-ups, then I have no other choice but to punish her for such a foolish act.”

( It became clear to me that I would have to set up a trap to find out the truth. ーー And if her actions were to be exposed, I would make sure to compensate for the lack of disciplining these past few days. I can already imagine her crying out. I probably should not feel proud for having such thoughts. However, this is not a bad situation. It may be somewhat shameless, but it seems like I am enjoying it quite a bit. To get to use her own blunders as an excuse to suck her blood, or knowing that no matter what I do, she will not get away from me. )

“I suppose I shall enjoy our time together for the first time in a while...Which may just turn out to be a hellish period for her.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Ding・dongー Ding・dong*

Ruki pulls back after sucking your blood.

“...Hah. Your blood tastes even sweeter than usual. By sucking it repeatedly, the flavor ripens, becoming richer, almost like wine. Or in other words, like a stew you kept on the stove for too long. If it simmers any longer, it might just burn. I suppose we could put it to the test. After all, no matter what happens to you, all we have to do is turn back time.”

You keep quiet.

“You can hear me, right? Why not give some sort of reaction? I would not mind seeing you miserably struggle in vain.”

You still fail to give a response.

“Guess she really did lose consciousness. Judging by the looks of it, I doubt she will wake up even if I were to rewind time. I guess you could consider us even now. Perhaps I went a little too easy on her, but I shall forgive her now.”

He takes a step back.

“Such an innocent sleeping face. Almost as if the obscene expressions you showed me earlier were nothing but a lie. Your sheer white complexion and screams were not bad. As well as how you would cling onto my clothes, remaining by my side despite your obvious fear.”

*Thud*

“...Ah!”

*Cling*

“The hourglass...”

Ruki picks up the Hourglass.

“That man might have been testing me after all...Me? Or rather, us? ...Now that I think about it twice, the ability to manipulate time is something which should only ever be given to God. We could have possibly overthrown all logic in this world if we so wished. Yet, we used it to cover up for trivial mistakes. Then this is basically just some child’s toy. However...I am sure that was for the best.”

He turns his head to look at you.

“You might be more of a genius than I thought. However, how many times did you rewind? The magic has almost run dry. The few times I rewinded are basically irrelevant. I wonder just how many times you repeated your own ridiculous mistakes? Oh well, I shall drag that out of her later. I doubt she will easily confess though. ーー No, I suppose there is no point in asking her. I can simply confirm it with my very own eyes.”

*Cling*

“With this amount, we can still turn back time just once. That’s plenty.”

*Thud*

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

“Hm…”

You approach Ruki.

“Oh? It’s you. No, it’s nothing serious. I was simply lost in thought.”

You take notice of the hourglass in his hand.

“You seem curious. Are you that interested in this thing? Blood red sand…Its decorations are beautiful as well. It would make for the perfect interior piece.”

You ask if there is a catch.

“No, it’s jsut a regular old hourglass. There is nothing special about it.”

*Thud*

“More importantly, you mentioned you wanted to look for resources for your assignment, right? Meet me at the library during tomorrow’s break time. I shall help you.”

You seem surprised.

“Yes. As your Master, it is my duty to look after you. However, do not be late, okay?”

You nod.

( Well then...I wonder what the next few days will have in store for me? How many mistakes will you make, and how many times will you get punished by me? ...I am looking forward to it. )

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally he says that he always intended to be the one ‘holding the reins’, but instead he was actually tied up/restrained this whole time. 

[cyclesprefectpress]

[image description: a proof of a font of handset type for letterpress printing, displaying every letter, symbol, and special character in the font. it's called "Sixteenth Century Roman," 24 pt., and is a rough-edged serif font with a deliberately worn look. end description.]

hello hello i am return from a deep dive into several reference materials that assumed a little bit more knowledge about how Medieval Latin works than i actually have, but, it was all exTREMEly inch resting to me. i am absolutely not a historian but here we are, a speedrun of my pinballing around trying to ensure that I know what the fuck im storing in my type corridor:

so 16th Cent. Roman, i already knew, was a font Paul Duensing designed based on this incomplete set of old Italian punches he acquired (punches, the first step of old school typecasting, where you carve the relief letter shape into the end of a stick of steel, and you uuuh punch that into the copper matrix, which is then the negative mould-shape you use to cast multiple copies of the lead sorts with hot metal; surviving punches are precious artifacts not the least because they are. they’re hand-carved!! often by the type designer themselves. historical and also wildly cool craftsmanship). these punches were all beat up and probably water damaged, fucky and rough-edged, so he re-did and filled in the gaps in the alphabet with similarly styled letters of his own. very cool. an extremely nerdy lil passion project of a typecaster in the 1960s, very typical of type people. we all find a Thing to obsess over, and sometimes it's reviving an incomplete set of punches from the 1500s that you found in, idk, it's usually a bucket in somebody's basement.

anyway it's got a bunch of ligatures and the long s, sure sure sure, but WHAT are all these gibberish characters with tildas and lines thru the stems of ps and qs and such—

Duensing's full font is in Mac McGrew's specimen book, great, i have that, except McGrew's book has complete proofs and a little bit of history for each font but doesn't always cover what each symbol in a unique alphabet is for, and i knew just enough about Latin to guess that they were abbreviations but not what each of them stood for. a little bit of searching got me this far, which is to say, "Abbreviation in Medieval Latin Paleography," a translation of an Italian essay on the subject from 1929. It is prefaced by the translators with gems like: "Take a foreign language, write it in an unfamiliar script, abbreviating every third word, and you have the compound puzzle that is the medieval Latin manuscript." Scribes writing in medieval Latin just tossed out letters they didn't care to deal with, constantly, and had stand-in special characters and abbreviations for syllables/words/particles and there were intuitive rules but way too many variations in time and place and person to make a reasonably-sized, static lexicon. amazing. hope all u paleographers are having fun over there.

the essay has a great big glossary of truncations and abbreviations and so on which clearly cover most of the figures in Duensing's font:

[image description: screenshots of the essay, with various symbols and the Latin syllables they abbreviated. an m with a bar over it, ex., stood in for men or mun. end description.]

ok! BUT this q with a little swoop off the end kept bugging me!! for all these dead-use symbols this essay is using handwritten samples, obviously, and there's clearly variation in execution and also typographers take liberties, and i just thought, sure my piece of type looks a lot like the quod here but it does link the staff to the swoop where the handwritten sample doesn't, and it could just as well be a fanciful ligature for qn which apparently can stand in for quando, and i have no idea which is a more common-use syllable likely to be cast in the font if you're only going to pick your top 14, and i just like to be sure about things.

SO. i went to double-check with Johnson’s Typographia. Johnson made like a thousand pages of printing manuals set in tiny tiny type in the 1820s which are rad as hell and tell you all sorts of things about how to run a shop and build your own press and cast type and going rates for work and employment and also, the alphabets/type case layout for whatever language or symbol set you might have to set type in, when handsetting type was mostly the only way to get stuff printed—English, Arabic, Chinese, Hebrew, musical notation, astronomical signs, aaaand it’s got a section for "Marks & characters used in the Domesday Book & other ancient records.”

[image description: a photo of a page of the manual, with similar but not always identical symbols for abbreviated use. many of these abbreviations are described as "a Domesday contraction." end description.]

and WHAT is a Domesday contraction, WELL, it's a contraction specifically from/prevalent in the Domesday book, a deeply boring and historically important tome about property distribution in England. It’s literally a survey. who owned what, in 1086. presumably mind-numbing. enormous, handwritten in Medieval Latin, EXTREMELY cool, go look at some images of it at least, very important to historians, economists, linguists, and a complete pain in the ass to set in type when that technology became available, having to cast any significant proportion of these variant characters in an alphabet. Johnson says, (in 1824) “It is an improvement of latter years only*, to have type cast to resemble the abbreviations used in the more ancient manuscripts; they being formerly rudely imitated, either from a common fount, or else were cut in wood for the purposes of any particular work.” wow that sucks. but in 1773 the government really wanted to be able to reproduce the Domesday Book in type, so a couple people tried to cut a set of punches for Domesday abbreviations and Joseph Jackson got it done and it only took 10 years to print an edited version of the manuscript. and then apparently all the type was destroyed in a fire in 1808. WOW that sucks.

but the point is, Johnson has a great big glossary of characters as they were translated into type in the making of the printed Domesday Book, and the Domesday punches were used or refrenced in the printing of other medieval latin works, which consequences a degree of standardization in the abbreviations used in those versions of the text that handwritten manuscripts never had or needed.

notably the Domesday quod looks even more different from my piece of type here which was pretty annoying, so what are the chances this thing is a quando, and anyway that's when my sister texted me back with better computer skills and a different search engine and found me a perfect match on the first try. it’s a quod. this National Diet Library digital exhibition has several different sample fonts, both black letter and roman, with quite consistent letter forms, if not choices about which abbreviations to bother casting.

*I don’t……exactly know what he means by this, since Gutenberg and contemporaries absolutely did cast many Medieval Latin abbreviations for their fonts nearly 400 years before this. His dismissal of “from a common fount” might be fair, since i think what he means by it is that you’d have a generic set of abbreviation characters which you would have to use in conjunction with whatever font was the main body of your text, and it’s messy to mix things that weren’t designed specifically to match. he may just mean that it’s new for his contemporary foundries to be casting all these expanded alphabets of abbreviations; Gutenberg didn’t have foundries to buy from and made his own type. he could include as many characters as he had the patience for. maybe Johnson is just a guy from the 1800s that didn’t have the internet and i shouldn’t jump down his throat for not knowing something. idk!! i have homework.

anyway that was my Friday!! feel free to correct me and/or suggest further reading if early typecasting is your Thing or. again. you just have better googling than me.