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screampied · 18 days

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❛ PHEREMOANED ?! ❜ t. fushiguro

☆ sum. after three long years in the slammer, toji returns home to you—his pretty sweet fiancé. to surprise him, you decided to spray on your new expensive pheromone perfume. was it the best idea? probably not. you wanted to tease him, not make him feral.

warnings. fem! reader, ex-convict toji, pwp, feral toji, scent kink, unprotected, manhandling, size kink, cúnnilingus (he eats it from the back), toji has a tongue piercing, brēeding, marathon séx, choking, spít, impact play, hair pulling, overstim, tummy bulges, overstim.

wc. 6.2k

toji fushiguro never knew how to stay out of trouble—he had a temper and that wasn’t really a surprise.

he’s lucky he got released early on good behavior. three years, one thousand and ninety-five days, twenty six thousand hours and thirty six months spent apart from him. regardless though, you were patient—making sure to visit him during visiting hours and all. but the day he gets released, you get an idea. scrolling online, you read an article about pheromone perfume and skimmed across some pretty eye-catching stories. you ordered it about two weeks prior, waiting for his release to actually try it. spritzing a few good sprays on yourself, you wait by the front door where one of his friends, presumably shiu was dropping him off at.

creaaaak, the wooden door opens and there stands toji. he’s still in his orange jumpsuit, tresses of shaggy sable bangs brushing down his eyes, briefly occluding his vision. “hey, girl,” he gruffs, catching you in his arms once you tackle him into a hug. his big big arms cage you in before he kisses the top of your head. “missed y-”

toji pauses, and you let off a gasp once he abruptly digs his face inside the crook of your neck. “hn. . new perfume, baby?” good, so it really does work. his scarred hands rest toward your hips before he starts to sniff all down your neck, groaning against your skin.

“y- yeah,” you stammer, feeling his hands grip against your blouse. “you like? it was on sale.”

“i love it but it’s damn strong,” he murmurs, and out of nowhere—he lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder. a giggle nearly leaves from your lips as he starts to trod toward the bedroom, loud boots clanking against the marble-made floor. “did you spray it between your legs too? fuck, you’re just asking to be ruined tonight, baby.”

well shit.

everything happens so fast,

one second you’re hugging your fiancé who just got released from prison and the next, he’s tossing you on the bed, making you spread your legs.

you’ve seen a lot of different faces of toji but this, this was entirely new. he’s got the type of look in his eyes where he wants something and he won’t hesitate to take it . . even if that something is you.

seeing you like this, sprawled all out on the bed with that cute perplexed expression of yours, fuck.

three years. three years without any kinds of physical contact he had to endure, and with the addition of your new pheromone perfume. perhaps you had some kind of death wish.

“spread ‘em,” he huffs, clicking his tongue. toji’s eyes were already hooded and half-lidded. he’s panting already and he’s not even looking at you.

just from staring between your legs, he could almost taste you on his tongue - his tastebuds were already salivating at the carnal thought. toji’s verdant dim eyes stare straight between your legs, right near the very crevices. “wait, no,” and you gasp again once he flips you over, making you flop down on your chest. “ass up baby. i don’t wanna look at you right now. wanna look at her.”

his hands were so hot, quite literally.

his bare palms had all kinds of scars painted near the centers with such rough texture as he feels against your ass. you try to suppress an incoming moan as your back willingly arches forward. your cheek’s being smushed against the silky red cover of your own pillow before he leans in.

toji’s wetly kisses against your ass cheek, nearly ripping your skirt in two. “mhm,” he groans, and even now, he’s still smelling you. your legs start to shake and quiver once he’s smelling every part of your thighs. toji drags his nose up and down, he’s making sure he can take in all of your perfume, he even licks down your legs. you’ve seen him feral before but never like this. his palm continues to rub against your skin before the button tip of his nose reaches toward your panties. “fuck, don’t know how much i missed you, princess.”

“t- toji,” you whine through gritted teeth, and he’s flicking his tongue against the lace pad of your panties. your smell, it was so good - he just couldn’t get enough.

it scratched a obscene itch in his brain, making him so aroused—so much so that you weren’t helping the strain in his jumpsuit sweats at all. toji’s boner was almost painful, it prods against the thin fabric of his jumpsuit and your scent only made his throbbing so much worse.

his hair tickles against the corners of your thighs as you feel his warm breath ghost against your sopping entrance. oh, right. you were kind of sort of a bit drenched—you had played with yourself out of pure boredom. you failed to make yourself finish but he didn’t have to know that.

toji noticed right away and he raises a brow, two pinching fingers pulling your panties to the side. “she’s soaked,” he utters in a low voice—he sounds almost offended. “wonder why that is.”

you let off a broken moan once he peels your panties to the side with just his teeth, dragging a fat swollen thumb right down your drooling slit. “fuckk, smell so good baby but i bet you taste even better.”

and within seconds, his tongue delves right between your legs. once he starts—there’s no prying him off. whenever it was pussy involved, toji was an animal.

he could eat you out for hours, no breaks, not caring at all if his jaw locks and tightens. he ate you out as if it wants some sort of competition, and he’d always get a gold medal. every single time. .

you’re facing the opposite way while he’s eating you from behind, two open palms squeezing against both soft cheeks of your ass. the tiny ball of his piercing gradually flicks against your clit and you nearly let off a shriek. the stimulation has you gasping for air and it felt so good—you’ve never felt more sensitive.

toji spreads your ass wider, dipping his lengthy wet tongue in and out before spitting down your entrance. “ptf,” and it’s a glossy slimy trail that dribbles straight down the cracked slope of your ass before oozing near your puffy pussy. it’s so sloppy, he laps it right up before spitting on it again and again.

toji hasn’t tasted you in forever, three years felt like forever and he wanted to make sure he’d make up for lost time - with his tongue.

“mhm, keep squirmin’ doll, see where it gets ya,” he’d gruff in a husky tone, feeling your entire body starting to writhe and shudder all from his mouth.

despite his jaw already locking—his face was flushed and tears of sweat sprayed against his forehead. even still, the dark haired man showed no signs of fatigue. you just tasted so sweet, and your loud pheromonal smell made things worse.

you slouch back against the cushioned mattress, peering behind you to see him sloppily give your pulsating cunt three second slurps. fuck, his tongue. it was so long.

you felt every extending inch of it trace and curl all throughout the swollen walls of your pussy. he had to make sure your pretty pussy remembered who it belonged to. his rosy pink tip swirls around and around, side to side, up and down—he makes it toy in every witch direction. toji then starts to merrily spell out the thirteen notorious letters of his name over and over.

t - o - j - i - f - u - s - h - i - g - u - r - o.

once his tongue curls in such a slick spiraling manner, your tummy heaves once he spells out the letter ‘s’ with his tongue. it twirls from up to down, and he even grumbles out the letters under his breath in that low, raspy voice.

two big hands cling onto your rickety thighs before he spanks your ass once he sees you trying to reach down between your thighs to touch yourself. “watch it, little girl,” he snarls, the sudden pitchy tone in his rough voice making you throb right on his tongue. he’s practically making out with your cunt now, french kissing your slobbering entrance. toji’s just casually nose deep, taking every few seconds to smell against your clit. “she’s mine.”

“tojiiii—” you moan, continuing to rock your unsteady hips back into his face. toji’s patchy stubble rubs all over against your skin until it’s just profusely dripping from your slick juices.

the scar that runs down the right side of his lip smears against you also. it feels so rough as it scraps against your folds. your pussy twitches as he starts to drag his face back and forth against your slick and you gasp once his tongue slides further up.

up, up, up until it reaches there.

“ah, now what do we got ourselves here,” he whispers, and you moan once he plugs a fat thumb against your puckering hole.

your teeth dig into the cottony fluff of the pillow that’s sat right in front of you. toji’s thumb, he circles it around before lolling out his tongue. even though you’re not directly facing him, you can just hear how wet it is—how wet you are.

you’re squelching so loud that it bounces off the walls, ricocheting against every peeling corner.

the syrupy saliva that departs and smacks from his lips once he open his mouth. “god, ‘yer fuckin’ wet, baby. just for me,” he murmurs, and he creates a long slippery slicking trail from the starting point of your throbbing clitoral hood all the way until he reaches your hole. he pauses as sheeny drool following his mouth. saliva continues to slip away from his wry crooked lips as his lips open and close. he’s fucking sloppy.

it was no secret—toji fushiguro was feral, happily smearing his face against your cunt whilst his tongue multitasks, licking near your ass.

it’s a sensation that almost tickles but oh, you weren’t laughing. your toes curl up in pure ecstasy and your face scrunches as he’s just devouring you whole like the starved man he was.

“ngh, tojiiii,” you whine, feeling the luscious twirl of his fat long tongue run over against every part of your pussy. your estatic nerves felt it all, he was very precise and never missed a spot.

toji’s lip scar that swoops down the right curve of his mouth faintly brushes up near your clit as his head continues to move. he hears you ‘ooh’ at the ticklish feeling and he chortles darkly. he likes to loll out his tongue even further, repeatedly thwacking the center of his tongue against your clit just so you can grow dumb from his piercing.

with your chest continuously dipping and heaving, you’re shivering against the as he’s got a face full of your ass—he feels you reaching from behind, grabbing near his overgrown unkempt strands to give it a nice mean tug. you’re dragging his head against your pussy now, even if your grip was a bit weak. “ohmygod, ‘s gonna make me cum too quick, toji.”

“taste so sweet, he grumbles, your viscous slick gluing all against his reddened scarlet lips. toji continues to dip and delve his lengthy flat tongue in and out of your sweet puckering hole before trailing it back up towards your cunt.

you let off a pretty mewl that lasts for multiple seconds, feeling dewy saturated strings of his spit run away from his own two lips and slabber all over your wet flaps. if it’s one thing toji does, he makes sure that you’re always wet for him.

you’re biting your fist until your knuckles split, occasionally hearing him spit against your cunt again, using a clammy palm to smother it everywhere.

“my wet girl,” his lips purse, soft pants of breath fanning right against your slick. you’re frantically quavering—shaking, and those warm ghostly breaths that waft by your rear doesn’t make things any better. various tingles roam through your body as he’s eating you out from behind, savoring your taste entirely. “mhm, don’t get lazy on me now. shake y’er ass against my face, baby. fuck me back.”

you moan once he gives your right bare ass cheek a firm squeeze. cupping it into his palm, he spanks it before you obey his command. jolting soft skin recoils and jiggles against his face and toji snickers, lying his wide tongue even flatter against your exposed wet pussy.

“uh huh, atta girl, lemme taste all of you,” and as he’s slurping, it doesn’t take long before you’re shooting utter blanks yet again.

interrupting static deafens your ears as a roaring wave crashes through your veins. your knees abruptly buckle until you’re collapsing forward in the mattress and its silky sheets. only then do you now finish on his tongue, letting off a shrilling whine.

“mhm, there it is, there’s my sloppy baby,” and a lustrous stream of your sweetened juices spew down his chin. his chin’s now shiny, and your glistening slick even decorates his stubble.

“fuck,” he takes a moment to breathe, flicking his tongue against his lips. so sweet, toji’s dark eyes rove down at your cute elated state as you slumped into the pillows. you’re trying to crawl away but with two hands, he’s reeling you right back into him. “oh, no ya don’t. get back here, pretty girl,” and your lips part into an ‘o’ as you gasp, feeling his teeth playfully nibble against your pussy.

and toji doesn’t let you escape his grasp. not yet anyway, he was starving. he missed you, and his tongue showed that.

you hadn’t realized how much time’s passed whilst he’s between your legs—you’d guess it’s been a few hours since it was almost dusk now.

toji was a eater, he’s got you lied flat on your back now as he’s slurping you clean. his tongue flicks underneath his bottom lip, tasting the mess you caused that’s pouring down his slick chin. it’s probably been your fifth orgasm and your legs can barely hold themselves up.

“mhm,” and he’s just munching your pretty pussy, glossy strands of his own saliva mixing with your sap continues to dribble down his chin. he’s made such a mess, all because of you. “you sprayed between your legs, didn’t you baby?”

“n- no,” you lie, dragging his head back and forth against your cunt. you did, but to be fair you didn’t think it’d work. you thought it was just another scam. but it wasn’t — toji was here, eating you out as if your pussy was the last edible thing in world.

make no mistake, he was a filthy man. his entire chin’s cascading with a stream of your syrupy mess and he barely bats an eye. you didn’t know how much more you could take before he chuckles, finally departing his lips.

“you’re a bad liar,” and his voice grows deep again. you meet his eyes and that’s when toji makes you get on all fours again. “ass up. y’know the drill. atta girllll,” and you almost shiver from his touch. toji stares at your perked ass, bringing a palm towards your left templed cheek. smack, you moan from the abrupt sting before he later caresses it. “god, i missed you. those idiots wouldn’t even let me touch myself, baby. thought about you the entire time i was rottin’.”

and as he speaks, your cheek presses further against the pillow. toji tugs on his the sweats of his orange jumpsuit—the fabric writhes against his slim waist before falling down, now exposing his boxers. he watches as your ass writhes and he hums, springing out his thick cock. “shit, you don’t even realize how good you smell, do ya?”

“no,” you breathe, feeling a lump circle near the inside of your throat once he brings his tip towards your entrance.

it’s sopping wet, weeping with honeyed tears of slick before he smacks it against your puffy hood.

“fuuuck,” you whine out, the feeling of his bulbous mushroom tip bringing you so many memories. he brushes it down your sensitive slit and you feel the slimy remnants of precum that oozes off his frenulum. a hand of his wraps around his veiny length, giving it a few striking pumps before toji groans. “fuck me toji, f- fuckin’ hurry up.”

“now girl,” he brings another smack towards your rear. this time it’s harder, the recoil rings through your ears and makes you chew the inside of your cheek. “don’t rush me,” and as the bass in his voice pitches lowers and lower, you feel yourself pulsate right between your sprawled out thighs.

toji’s aligning himself, hearing your sloshing weeps sloppily exit out of your pussy. a wry smile compresses against his lips before he wraps a few fingers over the back of your throat with his free hand. “ ‘m gonna take my time with you. so, do me a favor baby. arch that pretty back ‘n shut the fuck up.”

it was such authority in his voice—despite his tip barely even being in, he felt your cunt twitching almost right away.

it makes him snicker to himself, caressing your stinging back side with a scarred bare hand.

“good girl,” and he leans further in, taking yet another whiff of your salaciously rich scent. “here it comes,” he lowly purrs, and you bite your lip once he’s finally entering inside of you.

toji’s slow, purposely. he loves more than anything to see your patience wearing thin, squirming and just aching for a crumb of dick. as he’s perfectly aligned, his swollen angered cockhead gradually starts to disappear inside of your pussy.

“biiiiig stretch, there we go babygirl. take it.” and you’re moaning at each ridiculous inch burying its way inside of you. with little to no ease at all, he’s mending your squashy walls and shaping them all due to the size of his thick cock.

he’s so big, so big that his dick makes your tummy cave in a bit and your thighs start to rattle.

toji’s got a fat delicious hook that always curves inside of you as he’s going in. it’s so good - so good to where you’re feeling butterflies brew up inside of your stomach . . unless that was just his bulge.

“toji, ohmygodohmygoddd,” you babble out, gasping with slick parted lips at the gaping barrage he makes with his dick. he’s only halfway in and yet you feel so full. you almost forgot what it was like for him to fuck you, and oh did you miss it. “you’re not—ngh, not gonna fit.”

“silly girl,” he huffs, already starting to feel himself break a sweat. his forehead’s starting to get clammy the more he’s easing his way in. the raven haired man towers over your jittery body before you feel his hungry gaze rove down your back. “we’ll make it work, princess. just like we always do, i trained this pussy well.”

squiiiissssh!

right after he speaks, you’re already gushing from his cock being so deep inside. his tip gets covered with your slick and he hums in amusement.

“even she agrees with me,” he hoarsely utters, preparing his sharp keen hips. you’re just so wet, you nibble down on your tongue as he’s losing himself further inside. it feels like forever until toji’s finally fully in. you hear a ringing ‘pop’ and that’s when you knew he was fitted nice and snug. “there we go, told ya. i always make it fit just for you—oh fuuucckk.”

your scent’s filling up the room now and it’s just driving him crazy. it gives him a headache, the kind of headache where he actually likes the pounding.

he can’t get enough of you, whether it’s your perfume, your body, or just you in general. all he knew was that he missed you and he was gonna show you how, with his deep pivotal thrusts.

“hngh, toji fuck,” you whimper out, and it doesn’t take long before he’s starting up a fast pitiless pace. the bed immediately dips from the harsh amounts of weight and pressure. toji’s got both hands glued to your hips.

his fat tip rudely thrashed at your sweet pulsing cunt time and time again. he’s simply relentless.

as he’s moving with such speed, you feel his full swollen base tap against your ass over and over.

you almost drooled, imagining how much he’d cum inside of you this time. his fingerstips dug so far into your skin that he left brief marks - it wasn’t too bad, but he’d definitely look back at it later just to tease you. “mmph, fuck toji. right there, that spot, baby.”

“i love you sweetheart but you talk too much,” he grouses, and you’re caught off guard once he pauses mid thrust just lean up close against you.

with your back still turned the opposite way, he pulls down your panties all the way, stuffing them in your empty mouth. “there, keep those pretty things in. only sounds i wanna hear is from y’er pussy, she’s the star tonight.”

toji’s cock was just merciless.

if you thought he was mean in bed, his hips were even meaner. ruthless, you’re being fucked against the springy mattress that’s creaking and the same babbles come out of your lips every time.

those same pathetic cries of his name. . it was like music to his ears. you couldn’t see yourself but you just knew you looked a mess.

you were drooling all against the satin pillow case as your eyes were just bulging out of their sockets. toji always knew how to stretch you good and stretch you right.

he was thick, driving his hips into you at such barbarous force that you were almost sure he was gonna break you. he wasn’t lying when he said he missed you. being away from you for so long was practically torture, and yes it was entirely his fault for getting locked up in the first place but still.

“ugh, mmph!” you whine, your noises becoming muffled from the bawled up panties that were stuffed inside of your puffed cheeks.

he was unapologetically drilling into your cunt as if he was a construction worker. if it wasn’t thanks to toji’s grip with hands, you’d probably fall of the bed and land flat on your ass.

“squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—shit,” he growls, his dark brows curling up together in frustration.

your walls were so clingy, they always were. his dick knew just the right spots to make you scream. after a few sloppy hits, his sweltering hot crown starts to break through your walls, pounding in and out until you’re just dumb full of cock.

you were stupid, entirely dumbfounded—and not a single thought crossed your mind as he’s hitting against that same sweet spot. you feel your toes curl up all the way until they feel numb and you let off a inaudible squeal. “pussy’s such a crybaby, look at how much y’er sobbin’ on me, princess.” he points out, purposely slowing his thrusts down just to ogle at the glimmering cobwebs of your own slick streaming down his cock.

it’s so pretty, you’re drenching his length each second and he feels himself twitch - you feel him twitch inside of you.

as he’s still vigorously delving his fat cock in and out of you, you feel toji’s grip around your neck softly tighten. silvery fingers stroke against your tender skin and you moan, a cock drunk smile spreading across your lips whilst your mouth’s full of your own damn panties.

you even taste yourself and it leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth. toji then suddenly raises your ass up just a bit more.

“hey,” he grumbles, swatting a hand against your ass. you’re snapped out of your own lewd thoughts once the sting meets against your rear.

dark sly eyes flicker toward your body that’s twitching underneath him and he hums. “fuck back against me. don’t be a lazy girl,” and your cunt’s so close, you’re on the very verge and almost every nerve that’s buried between your thighs prepares itself for its elated finish. “fuck. me. back.” he repeats, his words an almost growl.

you whimper, quickening your hips again and he stares at your ass that’s gluing against his sharp pelvis, smack smack smacking away. the recoil was always his favorite part, he groans at how good you stick against him, luxuriating in your sweet filth.

you’re clinging onto the creamy white sheets for dear life while you’re also just casually getting the life fucked out of you.

toji always fucked like he hated you—of course, he didn’t. he loved you, he even put a pretty rock on your finger and couldn’t wait to take your last name. or vice versa.

alas, whenever the conversation went towards the bedroom, that was an entirely different story.

he was mean, sharp angered hips would plowed into you like he hated your guts. his tip’s a crimson red, kissing up against your sweetest spot that’s buried so far deep inside of you that it leaves a mark. your stomach continues to seize as he’s driving himself in and out of you, leaving a little bulge that prods near the lower part of your tummy.

“aw,” he glances at you trying to feel near the exact spot with your hand.

toji grunts lowly at the sharp twinge near his thigh, he’s almost out of fuel but he hasn’t had enough of you.

not yet.

“feel me there, yeah? ‘m really that deep, princess,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and you can hear just how out of breath he is. every few words were broken up and he’s panting right with you, pinching the bridge of his nose to suppress his own moans. “our future baby’s gonna be riiiight in here someday, princess. gonna make you the prettiest fuckin’ mommy.”

“mmph—mmph!”

“oh, right,” he cackles darkly, leaning in to pull your panties out of your mouth. once he does, you’re matching the drilling speed of his pants.

toji keeps jackhammering into your sopping wet cunt and you’re just hysterical. a raw squeal dies out from the back of your throat before you abruptly end up cumming.

it’s quick, you cream all down his cock and your eyelids fatally flap shut. “the fuck,” he pauses, and you feel yourself throbbing all around him. you’re shook, your eyebrows twist together in pleasure and you’re just trying to gasp for any breaths you could get. you pout once he stops his hips all of a sudden, still shoved numerous inches inside before he releases his hand from your throat. “i know you didn’t just cum on me baby.”

you gulp, still heavily sensitive. your body’s practically on fire and you hated that he suddenly stopped.

toji didn’t like whenever you came—without asking first at least. “ ‘m sorry,” you moan, hearing his heavy pants directly from behind you. there was a sweet bratty lie underneath your two words and he knew that. toji fushiguro was no idiot. “sorry toji, didn’t mean—”

“oh, babygirl i’m sorry too,” and you’re confused for a moment before he makes your face squish even further against the pillows. a hand of his lightly pushes your head back into the mattress. you whine once you feel him starting up again.

your pussy resumes to freely constrict around his length before he’s starting up his insane pace again. toji feels you trying to crawl away again, weakly trying to paw your hands at the edge of the bed but he’s pulling you right back.

your ass slams against him and you moan, feeling him thrash against your beloved g-spot yet again.

“nah, we aren’t running today. get back here ‘n take this,” and he talks over your sweet babbles and mewls, speaking in a faux tone to match yours. “you’re a big girl aren’t ya, yeahhh? so whatcha runnin’ for?”

as toji reels you back to his raunchy rude hips, they snap into you at full force and you’re just choking on your own mewling whimpers by this point.

hours past, many many hours of you being fucked in any and every position.

toji’s got you screaming at the top of your lungs from each delirious orgasm that he coaxed out of you. he tells you to give him one more, just one more—but that ‘one more’ ends up being at least six more.

you’ve never felt more dumb out of your mind, and every few seconds he’d run his nose down your back just to get another whiff of your sweet enticing scent. by now, he’s lost count of how many times he smelled you. whatever perfume you were wearing, it was now his favorite.

he had you creaming down his cock again and again, your legs shook in defeat and you moan once he prepares to start up again.

but that’s when you lie him back.

“ugh,” he falls back, and his arms rest over the headboard of the bed. there you’re met with the eyes of a very feral man. toji’s jumpsuit was half on, barely even on at this rate. you take a chance to look at him and he’s just so swole. your eyes roam down his beefy body. he’s definitely got more toned since the last time you saw him. his body, it’s as if he was a sculpture. his and were similar to a greek god, droplets of sweat race down near his sharp v-line and you were mentally drooling. you peer down at a few of his tats that ink into his skin, a few veins running down his forearms. “now, that’s pretty damn rude, baby. pushin’ me over like that. oughta—”

“shut up, toji,” you murmur, still trying to get over your most recent orgasm. your ears rang, so loud that it’s putting bells to shame. with hooded eyes and that same sleazy grin, he holds onto your waist as you make your way on his lap.

toji snickers, a palm of his hand squeezing your ass tight. “oh, so y’er gonna ride me. ‘s that what this is, princess?” and you could hear the smug in his tone.

he didn’t think you had the guts. .

the dimples that poke against either side of his lips confirmed his haughty expression. “cute, but fine. go ahead then, girl,” and he spanks your ass, burying his face into your neck, licking against your sweet skin. “ride me.”

you barely even last a few minutes—toji’s just too fucking big.

you’re babbling yet again at how he’s not gonna fit and he just wryly grins at you. seeing you struggle to take him for the umpteenth time continues to feed his annoying ego.

but like the gentleman he was, toji helps you.

big firm hands attach to your waist and he helps you align yourself once more. your cunt’s profusely drooling, aching for more despite the overstimulation that’s continuing to dumb you down.

“such a baby. gotta help ya with everything,” he whispers, hiding his face inside the crook of your neck.

your scent was still so loud, the smell of you alone made him throb and you felt it from the inside of your gripping pussy.

your clingy walls clamp and squeeze around him tightly before you start up your frantic hips again. twisting your brows together in lewd rapture, you whine—tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. after a few seconds, then do you start to move your hips. “fuck, that’s it baby. ride me good, yeah. move those hips, shiiit.”

he groans, feeling his pumping cock drag its way through every part of your slick walls. he never misses a spot, and he sticks his tongue out, dragging it down your collarbone.

“mhm, fuck me. ride it like you want it, princess.” he spanks your ass, hearing the bed wail and creak out frail groans of its own. your hips threw itself in a circle as you’re on his lap, taking in every inch of his thick heavy cock. toji closes his eyes, inhaling your scent for the nth time, and it’s almost as if the second you started riding him, your smell got even stronger.

your slick glosses down his cock entirely, and it’s so pretty. every chance you get, you stare down between your legs just to see the sloshing mess that’s slapping right directly right underneath you. strands of glistening juices blissfully mix with his and just it’s filthy.

it even tangles into a mere cobweb the quicker you bounce up and down his dick. “f- fuck, fuck,” you stammer, and you’re so full—full of nothing but long girthy inches.

again, his maddened plump tip was just rude.

it’s smacking against your spongy sensitive spot constantly, dragging out those cute whimpers from your throat. your fingertips claw down his back whilst your hips becoming incredibly sloppy. “toji, ‘m gonna cum again. fuck, gonna cum again. hngh, please lemme c-cum.”

“let me think about it,” he sighs, and your face cutely drops at his teasing. toji nips small minuscule bites near your neck as his cock stills inside of you. “hmmmmm,” and he even hums over your pleading whines. burly arms wrap around your waist before he squeezes near your ass. he waits for a good seven seconds before darkly chuckling, lapping his tongue directly underneath your chin. “fine. go ahe—fuck.”

toji groans because right as he speaks, he ends up cumming right with you. his teeth bites into your skin as he’s dumping in a fat load inside, creamy globs filling you up almost right away.

his body violently erupts, feeling a ripple of vibrations jolt through his body and you feel the exact same.

you felt a spark surge through your veins and your brain just turned into complete mush. as your dead hips feebly writhe against him your jaw is just hanging open. “hngh, ‘s full,” you wheeze, feeling him continue to overflow your pussy with such thick amounts.

it’s a lot, so much to where it’s drooling all down your thighs, matching color against the ivory colored sheets.

it was so warm - hot even.

you hear the sloshing spurts that it makes and you’re panting just as much as he was.

toji saved so much for you.

his jaw tightens as he leans back, one hand still glued to the right cheek of your ass. “god, i fuckin’ missed you,” he groans, feeling a tingly sensation at the way you swallow every drop with your drooling cunt. your hips waver over him, and once toji brings his face up to stare at you again, he cups your face. “you alright, princess?”

“y- yeah i—” but before you could even finish your sentence, he pulls you in a deep passionate kiss.

it’s sloppy more than anything, and you feel his hands creep down toward your tits, squeezing against your plump swollen mounds. you whine in his mouth as both tangled tongues move in tavern. shaggy bangs brush against your forehead as you wrap your arms around him. as he’s hungrily shoving his tongue down your throat, that’s when he feels your hips slowly starting to grind again.

after a few long seconds, toji pulls away, watching the lustrous trial of saliva leave from both lips. he’s still so sensitive and so were you.

“baby,” he says, raspy and out of breath. he leans in, giving you one more sniff before groaning in your neck. the insides of your thighs were sticky, glued to the very crevices with his hot gluey cum and you definitely milked him. “i need more—fuck, i need more.” and you gasp once you’re suddenly flipped over on your back.

leafy green eyes bore into your ass and you moan once toji drags a big thumb down your cunt that’s slobbering with milky globs of his seed.

“shit, look at this mess,” and he slides his tongue across his lip - specifically, across the scar that runs down his sly crooked lips. “hah, y’er tummy’s not full enough yet, princess,” and you can almost hear the pout in his voice as he’s stood behind you.

toji vertically smears his thumb against your cunt that’s weeping with such thick velvety amounts of cum. he inches his face toward your rear before bringing a kiss towards your wet entrance.

“before i give you more though, ‘m gonna have ‘ta clean this mess,” and you let off a surprised gasp once he dips his tongue back into your pussy again, the cold pierced ball that lies on his tongue making you whimper. “so be a good girl ‘n bend over again for me,” and he starts to nibble against your clit, feeling you ardently pulse against his tongue.

“heh, but i gotta say, this food right here’s so much fuckin’ better than the shit they serve us in prison, princess,” and toji spits right on your folds one last time, giving it a playful smack. “so much better. . ”

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 month

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Might I inquire as to what, precisely, a Mustain't is? (Aside from a string of letters I hesitate to Google in that order.)

In October 2014 I went on a road-trip to the Dryest Place In America.

I was having a rough year, very depressed from having dropped out of college for the third time. I decided a road trip was in order to re-set my brain and get a little distance. Being that it was October, and therefore all the campgrounds in the American Southwest were filled with people who have the good sense to camp in reasonable temperatures, I elected to take my parent's minivan so I could car-camp anywhere suitably isolated, and looked up some of the southwest's geographic extremes- the highest place I could drive to (Pikes Peak), the lowest place (Badwater Basin), and for fun, the Dryest Place in the continental US, which turned out to be the Pinacate Volcanic field just west of Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. It gets rain maybe twice a century and has no standing water, despite being less than 100 miles from the gulf of California.

It's a startlingly beautiful and alien place. The ground is a deep chocolate brown to black volcanic sand, and in mid October, the rabbit brush is turning bright yellow as it shifts to autumn, the organ pipe cacti are a dark green and stand, partially concealed in the brush at exactly human height. The air is alive with birds and insects and bats at night. The stargazing is like looking into the eyes of God.

You get there by driving down a little dirt road called "El Camino Del Diablo", or "The Devil's Road".

I drove out about three hours from Glendale, AZ to get there, arriving at sunset, and felt a profound sense of peace. I stargazed, listening to the bats hunt and sing, and slept peacefully for the first time in months.

I stayed out there for three days, sketching and painting the landscape, taking strolls through this almost alien landscape, and enjoying the light and sound and total absence of human intrusion besides myself.

On the fourth night, it was a new moon, and I awoke in the middle of the night. Something was amiss, and it took me a while to realize it was because I could NOT hear the bats. I was sleeping inside the van with the rear windows rolled halfway down rather than trying to set up the tent, so I when I sat up, I looked out of the van's reflective windows to discover what at first appeared to be A Horse.

It was something between pale gray and bright white in the starlight, standing maybe a dozen feet from the van, sniffing curiously. It made sense- I was in the middle of mustang country and there was quite a bit of foliage in the area for it and it did look like a truly wild horse- lumpy where the bones were jutting out, dusty about the hooves and face.

I was instantly seized by the sort of paralytic fear Sleep paralysis is made of. I couldn't move. It wasn't quite looking at me because it couldn't quite see through the windshield into the shadowy into the shadowy interior, but I had the distinct impression that if I looked away, it would know, and get me.

I already had problems with horses. My beloved Aunt Helen's Prize mare tried to kill me on two separate occasions, and the year before I had to carry my sister-in-law backwards out of a slot canyon whilst reciting the Saint Crispin's Day Speech as loudly as possible to keep a mustang from trampling us to death.

This is approximately what it should have looked like:

Instead, it was... off. like trying to draw a horse from memory.

The waist tapered in.

The legs were slightly too long or the torso slightly too short, probably both.

The ears were Triangular.

The head wasn't quite right- Too narrow and the jaw wasn't heavy enough.

The tail was too long and arced unnaturally away from the body.

The neck arched.

The nostrils were too high and close

The mouth too long.

Whatever this is, a Mustang it Ain't.

I watched it from the back seat as it sniffed around the front of the van, curious with about the side mirrors. It moved around the van, nibbling experimentally on the front door handle. It came up to the side windows, sniffing like a dog, and it's breath didn't fog up the glass.

Finally, it came up to the rear window, which was rolled halfway down to let the fall night air in. Not even half a pane of glass and two feet of air between us, and I could clearly see it's bright blue eyes.

Horses have Elongated pupils to give them a wide field of vision, and eyes that rotate sideways in their sockets so the pupil remains parallel to the ground. Rather creepy to watch, especially the ones with blue eyes.

A real horse that was curious about the interior of the van would have come up to the window more or less sideways, and looked at me with something like this:

Instead, the damn thing walked up and faced the back window head on, staring back at me with this:

I'm not sure how long we watched each other like that, eyes locked. My eyes burned. I couldn't blink. My mouth was dry. I couldn't swallow. My throat began to ache. I couldn't make a sound. My skin began to twitch, like I was severely dehydrated. I couldn't move. My lungs burned. I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move.

Something was touching the side of my hand on the seat next to me. It's my water bottle.

The realization must have broken the terrible paralysis in the lower parts of my brain first, because by the time I consciously realized I could move again, I was already flinging my water bottle out the window at it.

The top was open, and splashed out the window at the Mustain't.

I've never heard such a scream out of an animal. Something halfway between the sound of unquenchable rage vibrating in someone's chest and the way rabbits cry out to God when the dogs catch them.

It jumped back, pivoting away from the van, snarling at the water bottle. I don't think you're supposed to be able to see All of a horse's teeth at once, no matter how angry it is.

I watched it run into the night for some distance, it's pale body visible against the black sand and the dark gray shadow of the ancient volcanic cone it was headed for.

When the blood stopped pounding in my ears, I could hear the bats again.

I debated leaving right then, but I didn't want to get out of the van with that thing in the area, nor litter by leaving the water bottle out there. I also had the awful idea that if I left now, it might somehow be able to follow me home. I ended up staying up three hours to watch the sunrise, shaking and trying to figure out if I'd woken up from a vivid dream, if my meds had stopped working, or if that had really happened. I didn't dare move until I actually felt the temperature rise, before stepping out of the van to grab the bottle. I had my camera ready- I was still using a DSLR back then- to take pictures of the hoofprints, to show how close it had gotten to the van.

No hoofprints.

Beetle tracks in the soft sand around the van, and the clear foot-and-wing prints of a bird that had hopped around then taken off. But no hoofprints.

I went over the entire campsite with the tent broom, to make sure I removed every scrap of evidence I had ever been there, including my footprints, grabbed my water bottle, and drove the three hours back back to Glendale, then decided to do seven more hours of driving to Moab, Utah just to put more than 500 miles, the state line and at least nine things that could be considered "running water" between me and the Mustain't.

I still have that water bottle. It has a dent in the bottom from hitting something, but that could have happened at any time. Strange thing though. I can't drink that bottle dry. I'll have it on me, drink whatever I've put in there- water, juice, iced coffee- and eventually feel like I've drunk the whole think and that it's empty. But I open it up and it's still at least a quarter full. I drink that. I get thirsty. I open it up again. ...and there's always a mouthful left.

Not sure what the side effects of drinking from a bottle cursed by a Mustain't to always have some left are, but it lives in the Emergency Breakdown Kit in my car now, just in case I meet another one.

---

(I'm a disabled artist and make my living telling stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi or Pre-order the Family Lore book on Patreon)

#Family Lore #scary stories to tell in the dark #or out camping #Horses #sort of #The Mustain't #long post #trypophobia #I know these are usually funny but this one is spooky

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foone · 2 years

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I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"

But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.

Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!

I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.

Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.

Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)

And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.

You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.

So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?

My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.

(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)

#ADHD

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gorejo · 1 month

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 - gojo satoru

synopsis : burdened by the betrayal of your lover's affair, you meet a mysterious man with the strangest demeanor that beholds a scar on his right wrist and has the most beautiful, crystalline eyes. his vulnerability and sincerity stir an emotion you've long forgotten, challenging you to remember who this man exactly was in your past.

content : highly unedited due to wc. mdni. smut. she/her pronouns. afab!/fem reader. reader is smaller than gojo. mentions of suicide, death, miscarriage, and blood. infidelity. gojo has yāndere tendencies. cúnnilingus. creampíe. squirting. unprotected séx. car séx. pet names (princess, angel, baby, sweetheart). fingering. deep thrōating. missionary. manhandling. overstim. mention of baby trapping ? male masturbation. emotional/verbal abuse. mentions of audio/video recordings. Gojo uses a fake name. angst but a happy ending ◡̈ heavily inspired by ‘tears on a withered flower.’ especially with the big plot points/dialogue.

wc : 25k.... i should've split this into multiple parts.... but decided to just put it into one whole post. if it's too much for you, it's written so you can read it in multiple parts ◡̈

from ae : it's been so long since I've written anything... so I hope you guys can enjoy . love y'all !! header @/MJJ_0503 on twt

p.s. : i will not accept any slandering of the reader. if you do, I'll block you. Not all readers need to be boss ladies and independent. it's fictional writing, so become the character.

Grandma used to tell you stories about the demons that lurk at night. She would bewitchingly share in a calm voice, where even the hottest of summers felt cold during those darkest of nights whenever she told this story with her frail fingers brushing against your cheeks as you stayed hidden under the blankets.

The Devil’s hours.

“They wait for their next victim in the dark,” she warned, her face devoid of playful gestures, yet her lips threatened to twitch when she witnessed your facade flood with a multitude of expressive emotions, “they wait just for the right time for people to become weak, and it’s only then…!” she would startle you, always with the same threat of tickles and peppers of kisses.

“They’ll devour and spit out the bones of any disobedient children that don’t listen to their Obachan,” pinching your nose before placing a soft goodnight kiss on your forehead, “so young lady, I hope I don’t hear of any silly business during the night coming from your room.”

“But Obachan, I always listen to you!” cheerfully retaliating with only your face peeping through the blankets, your small hands grasping against the edge of the fabric.

“Of course, you do, my sweet pea,” your grandma's voice slowly faded, “never trust the devil —”

A distant memory dulled through your thoughts as you heard a familiar ring.

Despite being years since you’ve last heard such a tale, you should’ve known getting a text at 2:37 am never meant any good — it was called the devil’s hours for a reason.

A sixth sense? Or was it your poor intuition?

The whiplash of anxiety that crept through your bones the minute you heard your phone buzz, immediately woke you from any intent of possibly sleeping.

But you guessed it couldn’t be so bad to open it. Demons were nothing but folklore, an urban legend the adults believed.

But… Grandma was never wrong.

And through your ignorance, that night you were faced with three misfortunes.

First, the bright light of your phone burned into your pupils, almost making it seem as if what was your deemed punishment to witness such a scene.

Second.

“Hanako,” a familiar voice moaned out, gripping her body with his face caved into her neck, clinging onto her as if she was his lifeline — his refuge.

You could hear the sinful slapping of their sweaty skin brewing a crimson red as their naked bodies linked as one.

You can almost see the sweat dripping down his temple, his hot breath fanning over her face as her feet pushed his hips further down into her body, his throbbing cock filling her to the core.

It seemed too natural for this to have been any mistake. You wonder if he wore the cologne you’ve bought him, yet she was the one to inhale the scent of your man at night. The red claw marks of her nails scratching against his muscular back, gripping onto his heated body as his cock crashed into her repeatedly in impactful motions, her voluptuous mounds bouncing with each desperate thrust of that man — your fiance.

Your boyfriend embarrassingly in the talks of hopefully getting married in the next year when you’ve paid all his debt, fucking another girl with desperate grunts and needy moans. Though grainy you can see his ignorance of being filmed when he sobs out her name.

And there, clearly visible was her face smiling, taunting as she placed a mocking kiss on his shoulder, the edges of her swollen lips with lipstick smeared turned upward with a lascivious smile, her nimble fingers combing through his hair as she whispered into his ear,

“You’re mine, baby, harder!”

You should’ve known nothing good comes out of the devil’s hour. Approximately around this time was when legend states the devil roams to haunt its prey, gathering weak souls to harvest and devour during the quietest of nights.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned into her neck, biting at her skin as Hanako looked straight into the camera, “‘m close.”

Maybe he was in search of you — a pawn prepped for the demon himself to consume.

While she, as her name resounds, bloomed like a flower, shamelessly opening up herself to whom you supposed was your man.

“feels so good,” her voice elevated in pitch, her body bruised and marked while her breasts bounced with every stroke of your lover’s cock inside her, pushing her tight walls to embrace the length of your man, “you’re so big Kōji,” she bewitchingly purred.

Yes, because surely nothing good comes from receiving a text at this time of day. With your heart thumping in your chest while your hands shake from the horror that you’ve just seen. Your world completely shattering at the crack of dawn.

A text at 2:37 A.M from an unknown number.

It’s never wise to be awake during the devil’s hours.

Force yourself to close your eyes at the least, and maybe the demons won’t rob you of your subconscious.

For the demons lurk in the dark, voraciously starving for their next meal, reeling you into his possessions to harvest for himself.

Ding!

You hoped for an answer to this debauchery, anything to save you from this mess.

But there you receive your last misfortune in the form of a mysterious man and a text.

From: Satoru.

Just ended work ~

See you tomorrow at the bar, angel.

—- months prior.

Your lids felt heavy. Each step up to your boss’s office felt tortuous from the lack of sleep you’ve gotten the past couple of nights. It didn’t help that your fiance hadn’t come home the night prior, nor were you getting any thoughtful response outside of his blunt answers of “busy” or “can’t talk.”

“He’s probably busy,” you reassured yourself, despite the tickling of uneasiness that energetically synergized in your heart, making you feel nauseous, as you scrolled through your last messages with him, “yea, he’s just busy.” You tried comforting yourself — a skill you’ve mastered over the lonesome years.

Kōji Nakamura, your boyfriend of thirteen years, got hired into an established company a couple of months back. It wouldn’t be out of the norm for the new hire to be front-loaded with new tasks and responsibilities, trying to learn the job while impressing his coworkers and higher-ups, attending late company dinners to pour liquor for his boss.

Slightly jolting when you felt your phone vibrate, a short wave of expectation that threatens your mind only for disappointment to shatter all existence of hope when the sender was from anyone but him.

From: Akiyama-san

Hello dear! No need to come in today! Someone has bought out the whole motel for the night! I’ll manage the night, so rest up.

To: Akiyama-San

No, it’s okay! I’ll still fulfill my shift —

And before you could respond you received another text from her.

From: Akiyama-San

You’ll still be paid so don’t worry.

“Guess this is good,” you muttered under your breath as you continue your way, quickly responding to the text with a thank you, “Kōji usually comes home early today,” you sighed. Your chest felt heavy, a dull ache that resonated deeply inside from somewhere vacant and dismissed, “M-maybe I can make his favorite dish and surprise him.”

You nervously typed out, carefully curating a message that wasn’t too clingy, yet showed how much you’ve missed him — needed him.

To: My Kōji.

Will you be home for dinner today? Miss you…

Maybe tonight you could finally confess; surely, he’ll understand. He's always wanted —

“Dress up a little, yea?” Kōji boringly berated you as he examined your clothes, giving you a moment of attention as he lied in front of the television.

“I just don’t have much,” you softly confessed, folding up his new undergarments while sitting on the floor to organize your boyfriend’s clothes.

“You know, guys don’t like it when their women wear shirts that are all stretched out and old-fashioned? Have some decency, will you? It’s embarrassing.”

“What’s wrong with what I have?” you questioned, now used to the cold banter of your fiance, “w-we just don’t have that type of leisure, Kōji…”

“There you go again bringing down the mood,” Kōji disapprovingly sighed, his attention back to the screen, “read the room, it’s not like you’re the only one working,” he murmured just loud enough for you to hear.

Your finger hovered over the send button, biting your lip as you contemplated, your heart rate ricocheting in your chest wondering if he, too, was awaiting your message, or if he’d reprimand you for bothering him while he was busy at work.

You hoped Kōji would come early to simply be with you, for today was rather a sensitive day. A day where it feels more gloomy and weathered than usual, the type of day that pulls you down and strips you of any dignity — left to crawl on the dirt and succumb to the wounds of an unfair world.

Your mind wanders to the last memory of the photo lay hidden in a box — a secret between you and angels that took such sacred possession from you, a tale Kōji has yet to find out.

You didn’t have the leisure to think further when your boss interrupted your inner dilemma.

“Good morning,” he welcomed you in, chuckling, “don’t just stand there, come, come and sit.”

Quickly turning off your phone and stuffing it into your pocket, you figured you could think about it later.

“Ah my apologies,” you murmured, ashamed your boss might assume negatively of your character for standing outside his door without quickly alerting him, “Good morning Ishihara-San,” you quietly sat on the couch, “is there a reason why you needed to see me, sir?”

“Ah yes,” Ishihara-San took a sip of his coffee, “I need you to do me a favor,” he let down his cup as his eyes gleamed with hope, “Not particularly a favor, but a duty?” Ishihara-San formed a crooked smile, “There’s been a request from a possible investor that he meet with someone from our company.”

You were confused as to why that had to do anything with you because your work generally consisted of inputting data, making copies for meetings, and brewing coffee for your project lead.

“Sorry sir, I’m having a hard time following why you would need to consult with me over this, there are many qualified —”

“Well… the thing is,” your boss crossed his legs and leaned back with a gentle smile, “he wants you.”

“M-me?” skeptical of such truth, weighing on the side that your boss probably heard wrong, “Are you sure, sir? I’m not one to know much — ”

“Very,” he grinned, “he was very clear about it.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say but I won’t be able to commit to such an agreement tonight,” quickly looking down as you tightened the nervous grip of your palms, “I have a prior engagement,” you solemnly confessed.

“Is it because of your part-time job?” Your boss bluntly questioned, “If that’s the issue then no need to worry, he stated you’ll be compensated generously for your time.”

“No no, not today sir,” you smiled, “I just wanted to do something nice for my fiance,” you cracked a nervous smile, rubbing your thumbs together as a measure of self reassurance.

“Ah, I see… Well,” exhaling a long breath, “that can’t be helped —” his phone vibrated on the coffee table, illuminating a contact name that you failed to see.

Immediately grasping hold of his phone, “If you’ll give me a second,” his expression eased with what he’d read, “well, it must be your lucky day,” your boss hummed, quickly standing up, making his way over to you. “The investor pushed forward the time, so if you go now, it’ll give you plenty of time to have your date with Kōji-san.”

“S-sir!” Your boss was unwilling to hear it as he pushed you out of his office, and gave a supportive squeeze to your shoulders.

“I’d advise you to go now, don’t want to keep our guest waiting!”

“Who is it that I’m supposed to meet?” you quickly asked, shocked at the quick your boss was to kick you out.

“He’ll find you.” Was all the advise he gave you before sending you off.

And that’s how you end up walking up to a dimly lit bar, on a Wednesday afternoon at the center of Tokyo’s metropolitan area. It was close to the flower shop that you worked at during the weekends, and a few blocks down from the motel you were supposed to spend the night working at. It was oddly strange to come across such a place since you never had the leisure to look beyond the steps that you took ahead for work.

“The map says this is the place,” you murmured, looking up at the sophisticated restaurant sign that illuminated brightly, which contrasted your somber, drained expression. The world looked beautiful, foreign outside your scope of reality. You immediately felt out of touch, isolated and lonely.

The atmosphere itself felt expensive with its polished furniture and reclusive dining options for those in the upper echelon, and it certainly didn’t feel comfortable walking in with your mundane articles of clothing that dampened your features compared to those who dressed eloquently beside you.

You normally didn’t wear much makeup, nor doused yourself in perfume. Living leisurely was a luxury for you. Especially when there was a mountainous amount of debt that’s been accruing interest with each breathing moment.

Everything was shattered — dishes, cups, the beloved lamp that you’ve cautiously stored as your grandmother’s loom laid barren on the floor, lifeless yet chaotic.

You didn’t even have the energy to cry, or the courage to breathe yet tears streamed down your face as you slumped to the floor from the recent distress of loansharks rummaging through your shared apartment, breaking anything and everything they came across.

By default his arms tightly weaved around your stomach, his shaky breath reassuring you as he shamelessly hid his face into the crook of your neck – he too shaken from the abrupt mayhem witnessed not only but five minutes ago.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his voice felt shaky under his breath, “i’m so so sorry,” he repeatedly confessed as you woefully cried in your distress.

… “When we pay this off,” his tears pooled on your shoulder, “let’s get married, yea? I promise… I’ll make you happy.”

That was already five years ago you mindlessly thought while scanning the room, looking for the stranger that you had to accompany for a possible business investment while absentmindedly touching your ring finger still vacant of any promise of marriage.

“Find me?” you questioned your boss’s words, “how does he know me?”

You wondered who this person could be that they were adamant that it had to be you. Was it a past acquaintance? No, you didn’t know anyone in such authority, albeit someone powerful enough to invest money into a company.

Or was it a debt collector? No… they haven’t been showing up since you’ve been paying them promptly.

Maybe it was some old freak that you encountered at work? You come across those occasionally. Asking for sexual favors while drunk, when all you’re paid to do was assign them a motel room and hand them the key, wishing them a good night.

The job paid well, and Akiyama-san was a nice older lady. You were in no circumstance to contemplate if a job was worth sticking through or not when there was a pile of debt to be paid by the end of each month.

You best decided it would be better to keep your guards up, whoever it was… he wasn’t someone to be trusted.

“Found you,” a deep voice whispered behind you.

Quickly turning your head to see a white haired man, looking at you through his sunglasses, the hint of his cologne was hypnotizing.

“My,” his voice was sultry and enticing, like a predator luring in his prey, looming from the heights as you flinched at the sudden attention, his face dangerously close to yours, “you’re even more beautiful up close,” the stranger whispered, his eyes landing to your lips.

“Excuse me?” you fastidiously grasped hold of your ear in shock from the impending behavior of this odd stranger.

“My apologies, I didn’t intend to scare my future business partner,” he smiled, still craning down to meet your height as his face level with yours, his cerulean eyes mildly covered by his sunglasses as he scanned your face,, “let’s just say I like pretty things.” his canines sparkled under the light.

You looked up, immediately locking with his eyes, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest — intense yet soft lazuline and deep, an abyss filled with wonders, tempting you into it. There was something oddly familiar in those eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he stared back at you, it held something that you couldn’t understand.

Taking a step back, unable to hold eye contact with such intensity as you clutched your chest, you held out your hand to properly introduce yourself. This is work you reminded yourself of. Ishihara-san would be displeased if I was rude to a potential asset to the company.

“Hello, I’m —”

“Acting so formal,” the man plopped down on the counter seat, his veinous forearms showing with his shirt properly buttoned to his elbow, propped out on the edge under his large coat, “sit, I don’t bite.”

Strange. He was most definitely unusual.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you softly stated before carefully sitting next to the man, quickly noticing his features.

He was big — heads taller than you. His stature was prominent, more defined than a models when he simply wore a black dress shirt with a couple of buttons undone, black slacks slightly more fitting on his thighs with a belt that accentuated his thin waist, an expensive-looking watch with shoes perfectly buffed.

His hair was anything you’ve seen. White with a shine that made it obliterating graceful, tempting to run your hands through, the polish slightly undone to create a lightly distressed look, yet still exquisitely showed his forehead.

He was probably in his 30s, yet he could outperform any man in their prime with the stature and face card that he’s got.

But his eyes, you couldn’t get yourself to think outside of the deep depth of power his eyes relayed. It was as if you were the one missing the piece, while he, a total stranger, knew everything there was to be about you. And you noticed, the scar under his right wrist probably feigned a deep, dark memory for him that pained your heart for this stranger.

But again, this was solely business.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, “just to make sure…” your heart still pounded, “are you the one Ishihara-san told me about?”

“Depends on what he’s told you about,” he lightly hummed, a small smile forming on his glossy lips.

“That you were looking to invest in our company?”

“An investment you say,” he chuckled as he turned his body around to face you, his cheeks resting on his palm, “well… I guess, you can say that.”

“What do you mean —”

“Yamakage,” he cut you off to introduce himself, “Satoru, if you’d like to get more personal, I wouldn’t mind,” he flirted.

Responding with heat to your cheeks, you gave him your name despite unknowing how to correctly respond to his proactive engagement of flirting in a business meeting, “Nice to meet you, Yamakage-san.”

“Yeah, I already know. It’s pretty,” he admitted. His innocuous tone felt something more as if he was agreeing at the foreknowledge of your name, or if he was simply playing with you, you weren’t sure. “Your name, it’s pretty.”

You couldn’t brush off the fact he felt so familiar, like a lost acquaintance that you should remember. Like a faint memory, his presence teased your senses.

“H-How do you know my name?” you found the courage to ask, quickly embarrassed at the question when Ishihara-san most likely informed him of his employee’s name, “ah I’m sorry for the stupid question… Ishihara-san probably told you.”

“I’m hurt,” Satoru pouted, a faint tease to his voice as he nonchalantly stared at you, “that you don’t remember me.”

“Have we met before?” you cautiously asked, worried that you’d upset him, possibly bearing a hindrance to the business deal.

“Of course,” he sighed, stretching out his long legs, caging your seated form as he easily scooted you closer in, “many times, in fact.” Again, whether it was a habit of his to speak to people so intimately, staring deep into their eyes, it was a fact that he was dangerously too close.

“‘M sorry,” you murmured, shy from the intensity of his eyes, “But I don’t seem to remember —”

You saw his eyes stop at a certain area of your face as you spoke, his gaze shortly fixated on the small scar you had just below your right eye. You swore you saw his jaws clench for a brief moment, before softening up when he answered you.

“The flower shop,” he answered, his face easing up with a sing-song tone.

Your ears perked up at his statement, questioning if someone like him had ever guested the shop.

“You work there every weekend, right?” Satoru continued, “Tell me, what must I do to get your attention next time?”

You distantly remember your coworker speaking highly of a man who would come every weekend, oftentimes pointing him out whenever he would walk through the doors. You faintly remember a white-haired man who would buy a bouquet of roses every time, but if you were frankly honest, you didn’t quite care who came in. A customer is a customer, and time was money. You had Kōji and bills to pay, and that’s all that should matter. Remembering each customer that you’ve met was impossible with the multiple jobs you juggled.

“I-I’ll make it a point to remember you,” you tried making him feel better, the beating of your chest thumping loudly. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he could hear your heart by how close he was sitting, “I hope my rudeness doesn’t impede in your decision to invest in our company.”

“I hear you as making a promise,” Satoru chuckled, amused at your priorities to win over this deal, “promises are a dangerous thing to make, you know?” His words felt like a double edge sword with the way he stared at you so intensely.

“I simply wouldn’t want to disappoint my boss.” you honestly confessed.

“I see,” he hummed, “a businessman never forgets a promise, you know?” his words sounded like a threat, yet his demeanor was far from it.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you answered, “is there anything I can do for you?”

As if he’s been waiting for your invitation, Satoru slides his phone towards you with a cheeky smile, “Your number, that’s a great start.”

You type in your number, handing it over to him as he receives it with a smirk. Simultaneously his bodyguards quickly stand from across the bar, whispering in his ear and briefly bowing before making their way out.

“What a shame,” the mysterious man stated while standing up, a hint of impatience in his voice, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave now. I have some rather annoying business to take care.”

“Wait —Yamakage-San!” you quickly uttered, surprised as your hand immediately grasped hold of his forearm, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he stated, pleased at the physical contact, as he glanced at your small hand grabbing hold of him.

“Is there a reason why you wanted to meet with me specifically?” still clueless as to why he asked for you when nothing was resolved in terms of this deal besides him getting your phone number.

Grasping hold of your hand, it felt warm, mildly calloused yet perfectly groomed and unblemished. Lifting it up to place a gentle kiss on the back, his lips felt soft as you assumed, “I just want to get to know you, that’s all.”

——

Kōji knew it was wrong. He wasn’t brainless to know cheating on you was, in fact, wrong. It wasn’t something he planned on doing when he entered the company. The relationship started on a curious note. She was just so different from you and she itched a part of himself that he’s longed for you to embrace. To a drunken mistake after a company dinner, one thing led to another, and here he was with his cock shamelessly embraced by her warm insides, his hands molding her ass as he fucked her in the steamy car.

It was a shame right before fucking her, it was so easy to eat at your favorite restaurant that he’s failed to take you in years — with an old acquaintance a couple of years shy of both yours and his from college, Hanako Miwayaki.

No one at his company knew he was in a relationship before getting hired. Ever so, he was the handsome bachelor that his superiors tried to nudge him and the pretty, and young Miwayaki-san that feigned interest in him the moment he started, from getting together.

“I—I love you!” she managed to whimper out through their exchange of sloppy kisses, her long fingers grasping hold of his hair as she continued to press her body onto his naked torso, “Kōji more!”

Kōji held her hips close as he watched how his slick-coated shaft would go in and out of her swollen entrance, silently cursing at how warm she felt around him.

“Fuck,” Kōji cursed under his breath, simultaneous to how he gently squeezed one of her mounds, the grip of her pussy suffocating him even more, “keep going, just like that,” he unabashedly confessed.

But all Kōji could think of, despite the woman he held in his arms tonight, was you. It would always strike a nerve whenever he would open his eyes, instead of Hanako who appealed to his desires and easily spread her legs for him, he would suffocatingly see a glimpse of you.

And that made him want to fuck Hanako even more.

“K-Kōji” she would sweetly moan for his name, pleased to see her lover rutting his shaft into her. Such a sight was enough for him to go crazy over, wanting nothing but to do this all night until they had satiated themselves with the reciprocity of love and lust combined.

Hanako had a mesmerizing beauty. And her skin was always perfect under her makeup. She smelled rich and always wore clothes that highlighted her hourglass figure, unlike you, who’d wear loose articles of clothing like an old lady.

Her breasts fit into the palm of his hands, but they seemed to always lack a certain something compared to yours. He thought it was a shame how he’d never noticed her before. Maybe he would’ve if all he’d ever known wasn’t you — his first love since high school.

The car quickly filled with a stench of lust. The windows were tainted with fog as the two of them filled themselves with one another.

Hanako started to mewl at how rough her boyfriend was being, the increase in his pace was too unbearable to last a second further when her impending orgasm was threatening to release.

“Ngh!” she managed to let out, with Kōji's cock pistoling inside her, his movements becoming uneven while spurts of his seed collected inside his condom.

“I wanna feel you without it,” Hanako pouted with her boyfriend’s face buried in the crook of her neck, further planting herself down his member, intentionally clenching on his overstimulated cock. With their chests panting for heavy breaths after their rendezvous, she was pleased to hear his groaning as his arms further embraced her tightly, “don’t you want to feel better, Kōji?” she tried persuading like shaking her spanked ass.

“We’re not kids, don’t be so reckless,” Kōji huffed out, unaware of the irony to his words while looking up at the ceiling, irked that you’d ask him to always wear a condom when —

“You’re no fun,” Hanako lifted herself to cup his sweaty face, her lips feverishly kissing her partner. Her tongue soon entering his mouth where the hot flesh swirled sinfully with his.

She smiled when she felt his cock hardened again inside her. “Kōji,” Hanako bit his lower lip, teasingly looking down through her lashes as she pulled herself from his member, reaching down to pull off the used condom.

“Let’s go up to my apartment.”

Kōji knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t come home the day prior, and you’d probably be stupidly waiting for him.

“I can’t tonight —”

Her lips crashed onto his again, a threatening message that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, “You’re going to send away your poor girlfriend to sleep all alone at night?”

It’s not like you would entice him and want him like Hanako did. So what was the point of keeping some sort of loyalty to you when he’s just fooled around with another woman?

“Fuck it,” he groaned before quickly zipping up his pants, ignoring Hanako’s giggle as she led him up the stairs, practically prancing in her skirt with no panties underneath, uncaring of the person that may have seen such wretched acts he’s committed.

After all, it was shameless what he was doing. And Kōji knew it. Because his thoughts weren’t of the woman he just had sex with, but it was filled with thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance.

As he mixed his body with Hanako, he thought of ramming his cock inside your tight, warm cunt, squeezed magically by your plush, velvet walls.

And as he kissed her, his thoughts were full of how your breasts would wildly bounce as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot, deeply inside.

Would you let him take you on all fours, just like how he had Hanako currently positioned? Ass up and breasts planted to the mattress?

Despite Hanako being deliciously naked before him, with his aching member ramming inside her, penetrating her tight insides until it becomes swollen and dripping with his cum, he hears your voice, oh so faintly as Hanako breathlessly moans, “I-I love you.”

——

It wasn’t common for Kōji to not come for the night.

You wondered if he was alright as you sat alone in your apartment, with his favorite meal cooked you’ve splurged to make, dipping into your personal expenses — miso soup with grilled unagi.

You felt awfully lonely despite living inside a small apartment, and everything felt foreign and distant without him there with you. There wasn’t much you owned, just the absolute essential. But it somehow always lacked a vital piece that would make you feel more at ease.

Him, you thought as tears coated your eyes.

You would often wonder where things went possibly wrong, and how you could fix it. But every time you would contemplate, you were stuck on finding the answer.

Your phone brightly illuminated the dark room. Your eyes blurry from the tears, you quickly brushed them off with your sleeve. It pricked at your sensitive skin at how tattered the cloth had become.

From an unknown sender

This is Satoru.

It’s a rather beautiful night!

Sends a picture of the brightened moonlit sky. Hope you sleep well tonight >_< It was nice to finally meet you.

And just when you were about to save his number, a single text popped up, immediately crushing your heart into pieces.

From: My Kōji.

Gonna be late. Don’t wait for me.

—- a month since meeting Satoru.

If you were to say it was a coincidence that would be wrong because how many coincidences can there be to be a blatant fact that you might have a stalker?

“Yamakage-san,” you breathlessly stated as you almost ran into his chest, carrying multiple cups of coffee for your coworkers.

“You okay?” he chuckled, easily taking the cups from you with his large hands, “but fancy seeing you here,” he stated while looking down from his height at your disheveled self, quickly noticing something.

“Y-you scared me.” Your cheeks felt hot as adrenaline rushed through your body.

“Didn’t mean to do that,” Satoru chuckled as he put down the coffee, leading you to a seat before crouching down on one knee and tying your undone shoelaces.

“I- I can do that!” you tried to quickly swat his hands away, embarrassed at how many people were staring at the modelesque man being such a gentleman.

“I know you can. But let me.” His voice felt warm, caring almost. “Don’t want you tripping and falling over my good looks, do we?” he looked up, winking as he finished the knot. You noticed the scar again on his wrist, mutely blemishing his pale skin. It was hard to notice under his watch, but prominent enough for it to catch your attention.

“It must've hurt…” you quietly mumbled to yourself.

Or the instance when you were checking a customer out at the convenience store, giving them the total only to look up to see a silent man in a dark helmet, tall with wide shoulders, comforted in casual clothing as he slid his phone onto the counter.

Have you fallen for me yet? :P

“Yamakage-san,” you sighed out, “it’s dangerous to ride a motorcycle when it’s this dark. Are you coming from work?”

Your words took you aback.

Were you being too meddling? It’s a bit ridiculous to suddenly intervene when he was a grown adult. You nervously bit your lip if you overstepped your boundaries. Stupid, of course, he’s coming from home, look at his clothes.

“Something like that.” Pulling his helmet off, shaking his messy hair perfectly to look styled. “Then what should I do?” he asked with a playful smile, his hands grasping the counter as he leaned forward.

“Tell me,” he pressed, unbreaking eye contact, “I’ll be good and listen well.”

Turning your face away, you murmured, “Just be careful —” your eyes looking down to see his scar again, ”it’s easy to get hurt at night.”

His eyes immediately locate your attention on his wrist. And that did a number to him that he didn’t quite expect. You probably didn’t see the murderous grip he had on the counter, the throbbing pulse of his crotch suffocating in his pants as he clenched his jaw, doing whatever the hell he could, to contain himself from taking you as hostage and keeping you — all of you — for himself.

But you’d probably not like it. And he couldn’t afford to do that, so that was enough for him to swallow his thick, adrenaline induced saliva down his parched throat as he restrained himself from acting like a maniac.

Completely unaware and unsuspecting of the lascivious thoughts this man had of you, Satoru smirked as he lifted up the hem of his sleeve, showing more of his scar as your eyes widened.

So fucking cute.

His sharp canines glistened as he let out a handsome yet pestiferous smile. Satoru didn’t even bother hiding the corners of his lips from twitching. “It doesn't hurt, you know?” further pulling up his sleeve for you to get a better view, “you can even touch it, if you don’t believe me, angel.”

Lifting your trembling finger to gently touch his skin, “H-how’d you get it?” you cautiously asked hoping you weren’t overbearing.

“I tried killing myself.” Satoru bluntly stated, shrugging as he watched your finger glide against his skin.

In a split moment a static memory flashes before you.

“Onii-chan,” your small hands reach over to grasp the hand of a boy couple years older than you, patched up with bandages with tears welled up in his eyes as he stood over the rooftop ledge, “Obachan said that’s very dangerous! You’ll get a big owie when you fall.”

You're brought back to the present, shocked at the sudden memory you had.

What the hell was that?

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. His soft blue eyes still magnificently sparkled, and his lips held the prettiest shade of pink. The wisps of his bangs, contrary to his usual updo style, hid a portion of his expression that you weren’t able to decipher.

What were you supposed to do? What can you possible say?

But before you could register, you asked him a simple response.

With unexpected tears dwelling in your eyes for the man in front of you. “Are you still hurting?”

For a brief moment everything within Satoru became still. The universe felt like it stopped spinning on axis, and the balance of the world had become altered. It was you — you had substantial power over him. And Satoru couldn’t help but feel euphoric, a deep sense of bliss brewing from the most inward portions, like a symphony building up to a fortissimo, Satoru couldn’t help but belted out a laugh.

You weren’t entirely sure if he was crazy, or if he was portraying a trauma response, but despite his rambunctious laughter, Satoru, like you, lived a life masked in pain.

“Yama —” Without waiting for your response, Satoru jokingly wiped off a tear, “I’m joking, princess. I’m too handsome for that.”

“You’re the worst,” you muttered before quickly turning away to finish restocking the aisles, “this is why you don’t have a girlfriend at your age,” you snapped at him.

Following behind like a puppy, wagging it’s tale waiting for his playtime, his height practically swallowing you, “sure… that’s valid,” nodding his head as he pursed his lips. “But, I think,” stepping closer, until completely cornering you so that you were forced to see eye to eye with him, “ that’s a you problem, princess.” Pinching your nose as his minty, cool breath brushed through your cheeks.

“But look at you!” His expression gleaming with his voice raised at a higher, teasing pitch, “worrying about me! I’m so touched!” tightly wrapping you in his strong arms, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

…

Or the other instance, just yesterday, when you met him on a rainy day, outside the flower shop just as you were about to make your way home.

“Are you stalking me?” Your words mindlessly left your lips. You’ve grown rather comfortable with the once stranger, now, unknowingly expecting his presence.

“Would you want me to do that?” He stepped forward, smirking in mischief as his height loomed over you, droplets of water dripping from his white bangs, his words testing you. “It’s quite easy to do that.”

It was undeniable you’ve grown accustomed to this man. Despite meeting him no more than a month prior, he felt rather comfortable. Like an old friend you’ve rekindled a friendship with.

Yamakage-San was kind. He was attentive and thoughtful. His words oftentimes left you speechless with his abrash ways of flirting, but he was nonetheless gentle with you. The way his fingers would lightly brush against your skin felt like a tease. And how he would attentively listen despite when you had nothing interesting to say, made you feel seen.

He somehow was filling an empty void Kōji left vacant, and you subconsciously allowed a stranger you’ve met so shortly to fill that spot.

And how could you forget the texts he sends with unexpectedly cute emoticons even though you rarely respond back?

It was a lie to say he was simply handsome. He looked unreal. With his tall height and slender figure, packed on with muscles under his tight collar shirt, it didn’t take an artist to imagine the intricate details of his finely sculpted body underneath his clothes.

“Mind if I walk you home?” he softly asked, taking a step closer to button up your coat from the cold. You could almost smell his faint cologne as you looked at his feet placed right next to your smaller set.

“Will you leave if I say no?”

“Mhm,” he softly responded, “I told you I’ll listen and be good.”

You looked up at him. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, maybe that’s why his eyes seemed to sparkle even more. And it made your heart rapidly beat in your chest upon seeing his eyes again.

Strange, you thought when felt your stomach tickle.

“Only up to the bus stop,” you murmured, “Kōji didn’t take an umbrella so I have —” You felt a sense of guilt when you said your boyfriend’s name. There shouldn’t be a reason to feel as such, but oddly you felt something tug at your heart when his name left your lips.

“Sure. Guess he forgot his umbrella?” Satoru was quick to respond, “ he’s lucky to have you,” he offered a sweet smile before opening up his umbrella and inviting you over.

Despite his long legs, Satoru walked rather slowly. Unlike Kōji, where you had to catch up to his speed, this man seemed to carefully walk at your pace, maybe even slower to stand slightly behind you.

From your peripheral, you could see his right shoulder drenched from the rain. Yet, not a droplet of water hit you.

“How tall are you?” You managed to break the silence. Kōji was tall, but Satoru felt even taller. “Are you over 6'0"?”

“I haven’t measured myself, but most likely.” He answered while glancing down at you, “Why? Do you know a lot about men’s heights?”

Of course, being together with Kōji for nine years, you knew a thing or two about men.

“Mhm,” you nodded, ignorant of the slight annoyance on Satoru’s face.

“you're making me jealous.” Satoru gripped the umbrella handle, clenching his jaws before you made a stop to lightly tug at his coat to get his attention, innocently trying to make him feel better. “Don’t be! You’re the tallest person I know, Yamakage-san!”

You hear a honk from behind. soon water splashed towards you as a dark vehicle drove by. And in that split second, you're suddenly caged in his arms, your cheeks resting on his strong chest.

That was scary and dangerous for anyone to be driving at such a speed, you mentally scolded the reckless driver.

You felt his voice vibrating through his pectorals, his body pressing against yours. “I’m big, huh?”

Wait. huh? What is this —?

“Excuse me?” Your cheeks heat up when you realize the compromising position you are both in, immediately pushing him when you feel the curve of his crotch firmly outlining against your stomach. “Sorry! Yamakage — ” You quickly removed yourself, your hands pushing against his damp coat soiled from the dirt that the car rudely splashed while driving off.

“No need, just saying that my chest is big,” he teased before wiping a droplet of rain that fell onto your cheeks, “also how about you drop the honorifics? I think we’re far past that, especially when you willingly put your cheeks on my chest and I just sacrificed my life for you.”

“I did not,” you embarrassingly coughed, emphasizing his name, “and Yamakage-san, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Boo,” he rolled his eyes before, “and they say chivalry is dead when I practically saved you just now,” the grown man mumbled under his breath, pouting as he continued to walk at your slow pace.

Satoru could see the bus stop was nearby, but off in the corner, he saw something that piqued his interest. A couple running under the rain, sharing a small umbrella much similar to him with you.

And if there was another thing your grandma taught you was that there’s no such thing as a coincidence. Everything is a result of a decision — good or bad.

“We’re almost here —” your voice suddenly faints when you catch what Satoru was looking at.

The heavy rain may have caused your vision to become blurry, but it was easy to mask the tears that suddenly welled up in your eyes. A rush of emotions and thoughts ran through your head, the insecurities and doubts that you’ve been pushing off to the side, were now forced in front of you to acknowledge.

“Kōji…” you quietly whispered as you watched your fiance intimately running into a shop with a woman tightly embracing his arm.

Your heart hurt, melting into inexplicable pain as you watched him fondle another woman with such care and diligence as he wiped off the rain from her cheeks, and shoulders, smiling proudly with his cheeks a tint of rose from the cold.

You missed him, of course you did. That much more, it was harder to witness him looking so happy, knowing despite your efforts to reconnect and act like nothing strained your relationship with him, the pain was always there, stabbing you to the core.

Yet the only thing you could do was to look away. Trusting that it was simply a coworker Kōji was being courteous too.

And your companion stood next to you, eyes void of emotion despite his impatience brewing as he watched you be soft to that thing when you were hurting because of it. Satoru couldn’t understand why you’d chose to waste your tears on such trash.

Licking his lips, he wished you would cry for him. Maybe if he pushed it further, you would. Then maybe he’ll have a chance at comforting you… but then again, that would scare you, and he didn’t want to do that. Especially not, when it took him so long.

Looking off in the far corner, his assistant stood in the rain, bowing to signal he’s concluded his duties, before taking off in a black car.

——

As usual, Kōji came home late. Throwing down his briefcase, he grumbled at how wet his suit had gotten as he stripped himself to go into the shower, leaving a trail of his clothes behind for you to pick up.

And as he surpassed you, you got a whiff of a fragrant scent that was foreign to you. A woman’s perfume — it’s her, your intuition alerted you.

Ever since you saw him smiling at the other woman, that was the one thing that plagued your mind, and you didn’t have the courage to ask him.

“Did you get a new cologne?” Your lips trembled as you asked. Hoping, internally praying, he wouldn’t say anything to prove your cheating allegations.

“Yea, from a friend,” he bluntly answered, turning the faucet for his shower.

“Kōji.” His name naturally rolled off your lips, and in response, his head whirled towards you in less than a second. “Is it hard at work? Y-you’ve been coming home late these days,” you muttered.

For a brief moment Kōji looked expectant before his eyes quickly dulled out, now purposefully avoiding your gaze. At the moment, he wasn’t feeling guilty in the slightest, but the contortion of his visage as he answered you before going into the shower told you otherwise.

“Took you long enough to ask.”

“Yea… he’s just tired,” you reminded yourself, “I need to do better.”

——

You weren’t necessarily the best at responding to his messages. Hell, he didn’t even expect you to. Just knowing you’ve read them was more than enough for him.

Satoru said he’ll be patient. That he’ll wait until your relationship with your boyfriend came to it’s rightful end. He’s waited till now, what’s a couple more going to do to him — kill him?

But something in him presses as his consciousness, continually scratching at the memory of you secretly trying to brush off your precious tears as you nibbled on your lips to stifle the sob as you watched your beloved boyfriend prance around with his mistress. And that fucking irked him beyond rationality.

Everything dulled out around him. He couldn’t even hear the calling of his name from his best friend as he stared at his phone, drinking his hard liquor as he peered at the delivered message that had yet to alert “read” like usual.

“You good Satoru?” the raven hair asked, curious as to what soured his friend’s mood.

“I’ve been getting ignored.” Satoru dully expresses, gripping his glass cup causing his knuckles to turn white as he wonders why you’ve been getting distant.

“From her?” Sitting next to him as he sighed, Suguru shook his head in disbelief, already knowing the answer, “You gotta let her go man… it’s unhealthy.”

“What do you know,” Satoru hissed through his teeth. If Suguru wasn’t his best friend, his face would’ve been knocked out by now, hell maybe something even worse could’ve happened.

He thought you’d both had gotten a bit closer, but seeing those tears… you were still endlessly soft toward the pathetic fuck. And now you don’t even read his messages.

“You,” Satoru pointed at the well-dressed man standing in the back of the entourage, “have you killed someone before?”

“Uh, no, sir.” His assistant stuttered at the sudden question, “well, I wasn’t informed that I would be involved in anything like that, sir.”

“Boyfriend?” Hanako’s boss curiously asked while sitting at his table. Her boss had an unusual talent to sneak up into places without a sound despite his tall frame. It was even more strange how no one in the company ever saw or heard of him — only Hanako and his assistants.

The rumours that floated around of the mysterious VP that would silently dominate his rivals with his dashing good looks and wicked smile. Forcing them to their knees in submission as he got whatever he wanted.

“H-huh?” surprised at him looking down at her, cutting out a picture, hurriedly throwing a piece of it into the trash, “a-ah yes, sir…” she blushed at her confession.

“You both look good together,” the man smiled, “handsome man, too,” he complimented, stretching out his legs as he sat on her desk, “I didn’t know you were dating all this time, Miwayaki-San.”

The photo looked partially aged, definitely wasn’t within the last couple of years. Hanako looked much younger and brighter, clinging onto a man as she beamingly smiled without a care in the world.

“We’ve kindled our love. I’m hoping that he proposes soon —”

“And the girl in the trash, Miwayaki-San?” her boss lowly chuckled, “is she the third person in the relationship?”

Embarrassed that he’s seen her petty act of cutting out the woman who stood rightfully at her boyfriend’s side, “s-she’s no one!” Hanako stammered before reaching down to grasp the crumbled photo, only for her boss to quickly retrieve it. Handsomely winking, yet his voice sounded harsh, “I’ll throw it away for you. Don’t want anyone to misunderstand, do we, Miwayaki-San.”

“Ah… Thank you Gojo-san.”

It wasn’t like he was never going to find you. But if it wasn’t for his foolish secretary, it might've taken longer him than expected. Guess paying her generously beyond her skillset was worth the investment.

It was easy running a background check on you with a simple photo — your address, your job, friends, family, and the one that pissed him off the most, Kōji.

Guess the gods were finally on his side because It’s been 20 years since he’s last seen you.

“So you can’t?” Satoru boringly stared at the man, his blood fuming inside from the lack of patience that he’d been tested with, his voice venomous to anyone who struck against him.

“I’ve never done anything of such a nature but if I handle it well and receive proper compensation…” This is what Satoru liked to hear. “I’ll do my best to not disappoint you.”

Satoru started maniacally laughing, head thrown back on the couch as he manspread on the seat, the tip of his black socks peeking underneath his tight slacks. Pleased at the newbie's courage, despite seeing him tremble as he said each word, cocking his head to the side as his eyes peered at him. “relax, it’s a joke.”

“Satoru you’re scaring —” Suguru tried to ease the tension, utterly failing when his friend immediately stands up.

“I’m leaving, it’s boring here.” Satoru dismissed himself, before turning back to Suguru, “The bill’s on you.”

Throwing back a middle finger, Suguru sighed as he took a whiff of his cigarette.

“You don’t think he’s being serious right,” the newbie cautiously asked Suguru.

Sighing as he shook his head, “I don’t know…” he honestly confessed.

…

“Fuck.” Satoru threw his head back, his head spinning from the bottles of alcohol he’d just had. Just one response, that’s all he needed to not go completely insane and overthrow all of Japan. He had the power, and it wasn’t like he had any conscience to care for anyone else. All he needed was you.

Closing his eyes, Satoru took a deep breath as he slowly stroked his hardened member, his hand moving on its own accord, feeling every ridge of length as he pleasured himself.

He remembered your plump lips, teasing him whenever you would give him the faintest of smiles. The way your body felt natural in his hold, and almost perfect as he stood besides you. He swore he felt electricity pumping through his body whenever his fingers would lightly graze against your soft skin.

Satoru let out a moan — gluttonous and unapologetic as he continued to jerk himself off faster, rougher as he called out your name.

He remembers the scar on your lower right lid. It looked beautiful to him and made him almost bust a nut when he saw it the night of the reunion. And your eyes still sparkled just like he last remembered.

He would treat you better, crawl on the floor in areas you’ve graced yourself if you wanted that.

You drew him utterly mad — insane and crippled.

You’ve grown so beautifully. Breathtaking. The little girl that followed him around, had become a woman more lovely than the most expensive gem, and more delicate than any flower.

His mind wandered off in thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance. Would you let him ram his cock inside your tight cunt, being squeezed by your soft, velvet walls.

He wondered how your breasts would wildly bounce as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot. Fuck. Would you scream for him to go faster, guiding him in the right path to find your secret spot?

Do you prefer to be pounded from behind, thighs shaking as he takes you on all fours. Or would you rather ride his hardened shaft, rolling your hips as your juices coated his abdomen.

Would you like it when he’s got you pressed against the sofa with your legs above his shoulders, letting you milk his cock with the tightness of your cunt. Satoru would release his warm seed into you in every position if he could. He would shoot every drop of his cum straight to your womb, no doubt impregnating you if that’s what you wanted.

He would like that.

He would love seeing the residues of his wanton desire for you seeping out of your pussy, using his finger to push back his seeds into you, because he couldn’t afford to waste any chance to impregnate you.

Satoru thought it would be nice to see you cry. The idea of you weeping in his arms as he hugged you till you stopped, adorning you with love as your lips let out the most gluttonous moans. It fueled his blood, causing him to gasp at the closeness of his release.

Would you cry for him? Globular, fat tears streaming down your face as he pumped himself into you. Oh what he would give just to kiss those tears away. His hand feverishly stroked his heated member instead as he gripped a fist and gluttonously moaned in the shower. His white brows furrowed while panting through his mouth.

His stomach clenched, beautifully flexing the tight muscles in his abdominals, the tip of his head now a fiery red as his slit leaked of shiny fluid.

Maybe if he hurt you, you would cry and lean on him.

Looking at his right wrist, seeing the scar on his skin, he remembers your expression when seeing it. A monumental moment — the first time he’s every felt grateful for it. Your worried look as you ever so lightly grazed your finger along it, scared to almost touch him thinking it’ll hurt him — bewitchingly foolish — was more pleasurable than he imagined.

This scar — it didn’t hurt, he has no association to pain anymore — especially when you were the greatest memory he has from it.

But he wondered if he pressed you more on it, would you pity him?

ahh fuck he wishes he could see your face again. Droplets of tears streaming down your face as you kiss his old wound, your tender lips brushing against his skin.

But he couldn’t do that. And Satoru releases himself, hot strokes of cum ejaculating out of his throbbing cock. His precious seeds that should be painting your insides full of him were instead coating the dark, granite shower walls with splurts of thick white.

Satoru would never do that to you.

Chuckling at himself as he rested his head on his forearm, feeling lightheaded from the bliss, “I like you too much to do that.”

And if he couldn’t, then someone else could do that for him.

“Gojo-san,” his secretary walked into this office, “I was wondering if you’ve seen my phone here.” Satoru quickly closes his laptop as he cluelessly looks at her.

Hanako had lost her phone a couple of days back. He’s seen her frantically looking for it the days prior, but with no clue of its last use, Hanako decided to ask Satoru if he’d seen it by chance. She swore she faintly remembered her boss’s office being the last place she saw her phone.

“No, I’m sorry,” Satoru sounded apologetic, even walking around his office to look for her lost phone. “‘It must had some important files in there, seeing you so worried.”

“Uhm yes.” Gojo saw her biting her lipstick-coated lips, bile forming in his throat as he tried his best to compose himself.

“If I see it, I’ll let you know. But if you’d excuse me, I’m expecting a call soon,” Satoru calmly stated with a smile.

“Oh right!” Hanako bowed to her superior, “I would greatly appreciate it if you could.”

Watching his secretary leave his room, Gojo’s eyes immediately go to the multitude of files — videos, and pictures — downloading on his laptop, his interest piquing to a certain shameful video of Hanako and Kōji mixing their bodies as one.

A pleased smile forms, one that incites joy in his heart, causing his fingers to tremble in ecstasy as he implants a tracking and audio recording device into her phone.

His legs shake in anticipation, palms starting to sweat as he waits for the ‘Download is completed.’ message to pop up before sending it off to his beautiful yet unsuspecting recipient tonight.

you.

no, he would never make you cry. never, but he’ll be the devil in sheep’s clothing to get what he wants, because, in the end, he’ll be your savior.

because no one is worth having you, but him.

——

It’s been a few weeks since that rainy day. And though Kōji has frequently come home late, he managed to find time to spend occasional dinners with you.

“What are you cooking?” His arms snaked around your waist, droplets of water dripping from his hair, slightly pooling at your thin shirt as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Miso soup.” You stated, unknowingly squirming when you felt his thick crotch press upon on your ass, his firm chest securing you from behind. You couldn’t deny it, he still felt irresistibly so warm.

“Want me to taste it?” It wasn’t unusual for Kōji to taste test your food, he enjoyed doing so. It gave him a sense of domesticity and a brief insight into what marriage would be like with you.

“It’s hot.” warning him before he remotely answered, “then cool it for me,” he responded, his lips gently grazing against your neck as he softly breathed near your ear.

Nodding you blew on the soup, carefully cooling it down before presenting it to your boyfriend to taste.

Taking a sip, Kōji, too, felt warm with you. “It’s good,” he complimented, tightening his arms around your waist as he lightly bit your shoulder, “my girlfriend is sure a good cook.”

“You okay?” worried by his voice as he hid his face into your neck, firmly holding you from looking back at him.

“When…” Kōji muttered, a strange wave of emotion fueling from his core as he held onto his beloved fiance — the boring, kind you who would do anything for him. “When the debt is all paid, let’s get married.”

Kōji didn’t say those words out of guilt — far from it, he meant it. The reason he said words he normally wouldn’t say, wasn’t because he felt shame for being unfaithful with another woman… but he felt a void when he saw you standing alone, cooking up a meal in the tiny, godforsaken kitchen for him when he used to always be by your side, bothering you that it took much longer to prepare food.

He remembers the hopeful promises he’s made to you. But now, he can’t help but feel insecure in the life he’s given you.

“You’ll wear a beautiful wedding dress and your ring,” he stated while kissing your cheeks, cupping your face as he tenderly nudged his nose with yours, “I’ll get you a really expensive one, one with a huge diamond.”

“And once we get married, I’ll give you a big kitchen!” Kōji tightly hugged you, spinning you around as you giggled in his loving embrace, “a backyard with lots of space for running around.”

“I don't need a big one, Kōji!” Dwelling in his arms, you looked up at him, eyes crowning like moons in happiness. “Nonsense, you’ll need a big one for our family silly —”

You felt his hands gently grope your stomach, shaking you out of your memory as he swiftly made his way under your shorts.

With his lips parted, he knew his tongue could do a better job at playing with your swollen clit, lapping and sucking your juices as he fingered you just enough to hit your spot but for now, this will do. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “You’re so warm.”

Your nails immediately dig into his forearms, desperate to hold anything because this was dangerous to do in front of the stove but your mind wandered off into an euphoric abyss. You were seeing stars as your fiance palmed at your warm core, casually pulling down your pants as he pressed his hardened bulge on the crevice of your naked ass.

“Say you want me.” Kōji enticed, his voice condescending and lustful as he undid your bra, the clasp easily snapping off for his hands to perfectly grasp hold of your plump mounds.

“I-I want you…” you mewled, feeling your core heat up when he further pressed his throbbing cock, the heat of his member radiating against your sensitive skin.

“Good.” Kōji was satisfied with the wanton look that shined in your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you, the enticing urge of your dilated pupils as he grasped onto him for any ounce of support. “You’re so wet.” The thick squelches of his fingers playing with your sopping cunt embarrassed you. “Did you feel lonely because I’ve neglected you for a while?”

Kōji didn’t have plans to fuck you. Instead, he was planning on heading over to Hanako’s later in the night, rolling around in her silk covers as he made love to her. But something in him sparked, making him feel warm, and dizzy when he remembered about promising a family with you.

But… but that was impossible. You said your body was too weak to consume children… that it would be difficult.

“Mmph —! A-aah!” you moaned when he lowered you both to the hard floor, pressing his body against yours, intoxicating you with skin to skin contact before he pressed his lips back together with yours.

Despite the tension you and he faced for months prior, you still allowed him to undress you, kissing you in places that he’s once labeled as his, leaving you bare of any clothing as he pressed himself down on you.

Your hands shook while trying to unbuckle his belt, gradually making your way to barely manage to unzip his pants and pull it down, just enough to expose his toned buttocks and free his heated member out of his briefs. He was already trailing soft kisses along your jawline while cupping your sore breasts to give a wanton squeeze.

Rubbing his reddened tip at your entrance, his eyes fully blown out in lust, he seethed through his teeth, “I’m going in.” It’s been close to forever since he’s felt your tight walls pulsing against his cock. Heavenly, absolutely magical. Hanako couldn’t compare to the warmth of your cunt.

“Ah w-wait Kōji!” you huffed, the thick air of the cramped room barely enough to provide oxygen for two needy bodies, “c-condom… it's dangerous…”

Rage.

Fucking red was all he saw.

“Fucking shit,” he grasped hold of your cheeks, it hurt in the way he pushed his fingers against your skin, but nothing hurt more than the utter disgust Kōji looked at you before spewing out his next words, shredding your heart into a thousand pieces.

“You can’t even get pregnant even if I dump my cum in you.”

“No! No — that’s not true!” you wanted to scream out and grasp hold of him but the shock of his words dug deeper into your heart than you’d acknowledged, paralyzing you with an agonizing pain. Because soon Kōji was immediately zipping up his pants, stomping his way out of the apartment, and leaving with a loud thud to the door.

And in your loneliness, a tear dropped from your eye as the faint steps of your lover slowly dissipated into the air.

“Nonsense, you’ll need a big one for our family, silly.”

“Family?” your cheeks felt warm at Kōji's words. “Our family. It’ll be me, you, and maybe one or two babies that will have your eyes… and maybe my handsome good looks?” his laugh rang euphorious to your ears. “That’s my dream.”

Family… that’s all you’ve wanted.

Your phone buzzes beside you before your mind slowly fades away to complete darkness...

The day felt gloomy. The air was humid and skies were downcast to further impede the depressive halls of the hospital. Being inside a cold room all day with the monitors constantly beeping and people showing their fake sympathy made the rage he felt inside that much more unbearable.

It wasn’t hard sneaking out of his room. The nurses were too busy gossiping – most likely talking about how sorry they felt for him. All he wanted was some silence from the suffocating room he was forced to be in for the past month.

So he sat on the edge of the hospital’s rooftop, breathing in the thick air as his casted feet dangled with his crutches thrown aside.

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. So you can make peace with your entire life in those few, brief seconds.

Does that mean they reflected back on their lives? Is that why they just left without regrets?

He wondered if he jumped, would his mind finally feel silent?

Would the guilt of being alive finally surpass him?

Why did he have to be alone?

Why did it have to be them?

Why… why couldn’t he just die?

Why? Why? Why?

After the surgery, he barely spoke after waking up from a long slumber. The day he opened his eyes, grandma was silently crying while grandpa stoically sat next to the window. An ominous anxiety crept over when they weren’t there.

“Obasan,” his voice barely audible, “w-where’s Okasan… and Otosan?” And after a long hesitant pause, Obasan told him the truth.

“They’re gone –” The boy didn’t hear the rest, because the sudden loud rasp of the oxygen mask rang through his ears.

His mind was still full with memories of his parents. It still felt so fresh, as if they would come back tomorrow and tell him this was all a bad joke. It was so vivid – his last meal, his last laugh, his last hug, his last birthday celebration, his last car ride to school with his parents before having them tragically stolen from him.

He prayed to god, to anything out there, each night that he wouldn’t wake up the next morning. Because if remembering them would be this painful, maybe forgetting them would ease the agony.

But as if the deities had another plan, his wounds recovered quickly and the blunt pain in his chest no longer hurt.

It was unfair, the injustice of it all was maddening.

Ironically, the boy found the answer as he stepped along the ledge of the hospital rooftop. He was the only one suffering. The dead have no regrets, it's those alive that have to burden the pain. Only the living must say their farewell – the balance has always favored the dead.

“They look like ants,” the boy commented, his voice void of any emotion as he looked down upon the people that entered in and out of the building. Some rushed in as they tried to muffle their cries, while others took their time exiting. Some spent time outside on the benches, while others strolled around, wheeling a patient.

The boy felt jealous of them. At least they all had a purpose – a purpose to be alive.

And maybe this was his purpose.

So in peace the boy stepped forward to embrace his fate. The breeze felt nice as it ran through his white hair. Maybe it won’t be so bad, the boy thought. If he could pay the price for doing what he wished, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much –

“Onii-chan,” a girl called out to him, barely grasping hold of his hand, “that’s scary…” she muttered.

“Let go of me.” The boy warned, “mind your own business and get lost.”

Tugging harder, “Come play with me, Onii-chan. If you get hurt, you can’t go home!”

Home.

Did he even have one anymore?

And for the first time since his parent’s demise, the boy had tears streaming down his face. His blue eyes once filled with pain and apathy, had life brought back onto him the moment this foolish girl held his hand. Looking back, the girl no taller than his waist was looking up at him with a missing tooth and chubby cheeks, looking awfully sad as her small fingers barely wrapped around his hand. Her touch felt oddly warm.

“You have an owie!” the girl muttered, lightly jumping on her feet as she hurriedly searched through her small bear purse, before taking out something small and handing it over to him, her soft fingers gently grazing over his wrist. “A bandaid!” She cheekily smiled, “Obachan said bandaids are for owies. So don’t cry!” only for her smile to slowly dissipate when the boy’s tears continuously flowed, dripping down his chin with some pooling on her arm as he reached over to take her gift.

Why did she look so sad for him? Why were her eyes pooled with tears, soft and gentle as she looked up at him? Why did her hand need to feel so warm? Why did his heart beat, pounding in his chest, from this little girl?

“Why’d it have to be me?” the boy muttered, his tears muffling his words as he fell to the floor, his body falling limp and mind hazy as the young girl sat with him, “why am I still alive? Why couldn’t they just kill me too?”

“Maybe…” her small hands wrapped around his fingers, “so we can go home together! So let’s be friends Oniichan —”

Her voice faded into a far distance as the boy sudden saw black.

“You’re a good girl.” the boy heard his grandma speaking with someone. Despite his eyes barely open, he could see a girl sitting next to his bed as his grandma patted her head. “Can you stay here for a bit, darling? Obasan needs to go take care of something.”

“Mhm!” She ecstatically responded, bouncing in her seat. “Oniichan is my friend. I’ll take care of him!” And the door closed.

“Hmm…” the girl hummed, playing with his wristband that was too big for his thin wrists, “Oniichan’s name is… ” sounding out every letter, “G-O-J-O S-A-T-O —”

“I thought I told you to get lost,” the boy muttered, “You’re not my friend. Especially not with those that can’t read.”

“That’s okay,” the girl giggled while putting her hands on her cheeks while leaning on his bed, swinging her short legs as she stared back at the boy, “you’re my friend.”

….

Has it been another month since he’s been at the hospital? The boy wasn’t sure, but what he did know was that this girl followed him around everytime she visited the hospital. And here he was, sitting at the rooftop balcony, handing her an icecream as he sat feeling the night air.

It wasn’t like the girl was sick — well, she didn’t look sick. Curious, the boy decided to ask. “Toothless, why are you here?”

“Because Oniichan is my friend.” Furrowing her brows in a pout, the girl answered while eating her icecream, “and my name isn’t Toothless.”

Awkwardly scratching the back of his head, he corrected his sentence. “I— I mean… are you sick?” but he couldn’t help but laugh when the girl did, in fact, have a missing front tooth with air whistling out whenever she talked.

“No —” the girl mumbled, “Obachan is…” her voice was faint, almost as if she was going to cry before quickly stopping herself, fastidiously blinking to pull her tears back in, “but Obachan said she’s getting better, so it’s okay.”

The boy was sure he’s seen her grandma in the oncology department. But, he guessed… miracles can happen — for some people.

“Oniichan,” the girl suddenly asked, “do you think we can play together when you get better?”

“Not sure,” the boy shrugged, wondering for himself when he’ll be discharged.

“Or! Oniichan!” the girl suddenly shouted, “let’s get married!”

“What?!” the boy almost choked on his spit, his cheeks radiating a rosy hue from her abrupt confession, “Do you even know what that word means?!”

Nodding her head, as she looked at him with her eyes wide, “Obachan said when you marry someone you can eat lots of yummy food together and have fun so everyday will feel so happy!”

“Well,” he laughed while ruffling the top of her head, “I’m too old for you. Maybe when you grow all your teeth, we can be friends.”

With a pout, she asked. “You promise?”

“Hmm…” the boy stood up, quickly patting his clothes from the dirt, and wiping his hands off before reaching out his hand to help the girl up, “ I promise — but c’me on, let’s go, your grandma is probably waiting for you.”

Hopeful the girl took the boy’s hand, giggling as she led him to the exit, “I’ll make you happy Oniichan!”

“Sure,” the boy chuckled at her absurd declaration, oddly feeling a sense of joy tickling his insides from her pure diligence in wanting to marry him despite not even knowing the significance of such sacred word.

Opening the door, the girl excitedly turned around to share, jumping on her toes that she failed to notice the stairs. “And I’ll share all my food with you, Satoru-kun —”

“Watch out!” the boy yelled, quickly pulling her into his arms before both bodies painfully rolled down the flight of stairs. The boy felt a rush of warm liquid drip down his temple as he held the small girl in his arms, noticing a cut just under his eyes that started to bleed. All his attention was focused on her face that he failed to feel the gashing wound on his back.

“Toothless, you okay?” though his voice was faint and his head starting spinning, he tried to wake her up, only for her response to be silence. And with all the strength he had, he pulled her limp body closer, whispering before he too fell weak. “It’s okay… I’ll give you a bandaid later —”

“What the fuck?!” you quickly woke up, “shit,” you clutched your head feeling dizzy from getting up so fast. Your back was drenched with sweat and your hands trembled from this dream you’ve just had.

Trying to steady your breath, you tried recalling what you’ve just dreamt. “Who was that?” Your chapped lips stung as you tasted a hint of blood.

In a flash you briefly remembered a boy with soft white hair and the prettiest blue eyes you’ve ever seen, bandaged and bruised as he cried next to you. “Oniichan…” you whispered. Your head pounding making you feel nauseous as a name repeatedly rang through your ears.

Gojo... Who are you?

You decided maybe a cup of water would help relinquish your parched throat and help cool you down. So by habit your hand immediately reached for your phone, hoping Kōji messaged you after the fight you both had, as you carefully stood up to reach from the fridge door, only for it to be, again, someone else.

From Satoru.

The weather is so cold >_<

Dress warmly!

——

To say Kōji was frustrated was an understatement. The level of anger that entered his body when he heard your words eroded his common sense and blinded him from thinking rationally.

He wanted to hurt you, absolutely destroy you because you were the one who was a constant reminder of his failures, and in that, he wanted to spite you.

It didn’t help how a man bumped into him as he made his way down, further fueling his rage. Instead of apologizing, that son of a bitch smirked, and his blue eyes pierced straight into Kōji's soul. And that fucked with his mind even more.

So in his resentment, he found himself in Hanako’s apartment, pushing her against the wall, heaving up her heavy moans while her fingers naturally became tangled in his hair, the moment she opened her door for him. Slamming his lips against hers with a harsh kiss, taking in her fragrant scent that muted all emotions, stripping any ounce of rationality from him — Kōji felt numb to it all.

For Kōji, there was no passion, only carnal violence as he prepared to fuck her. But for Hanako, it was the complete opposite. The roughness and the eagerness of his fingers as he ripped off her clothes, caused her to further believe that this man was hers.

It didn’t take much time for Hanako to be completely stripped off in bed. She mistook his rage for wanton desire by allowing him to pull on her hair to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue inside her mouth as it stripped them both of air, shamelessly moaning out his name to further claim Kōji as hers.

Nothing else ran through his mind except for the image of your pained expression when he assaulted you with painful words. Hanako, with her breasts exposed, completely unaware of her boyfriend’s rage, laid bare as she pulled him in, wrapping her legs around his small waists while her dainty panties dangled at her ankles.

“F-fuck,” he groaned, “Let me just rub it, I don’t have a condom —”

“It’s okay,” she reassured, further pressing her legs into his waist as Kōji stared at her, “I’m safe today.”

Her words made his mind short-circuit.

He wasn’t thinking right when he rammed his unprotected cock inside her cunt, because in a split second he was fucking her raw as she loudly mewled in pleasure, her legs trembling from the force of his thrusts.

“Y-you’re so big!” Hanako shuddered, thighs trembling at how far Kōji perfectly nestled inside her, with his balls pushing against her ass and his hips pressing against her swollen, needy clit.

He held Hanako close as her body jostled from below, his teeth sloppily marking up her soft skin, the puffs of his exhales forming sweat bubbles on her temples. Blinding them both from their sins as their fates entangled as one.

Clouded by wrath and lust, rutting his hardened cock into his mistress with forceful movements had her thighs shake in pleasure, and blissful tears to well up. For a brief moment, Kōji wondered when was the last time he's seen tears of bliss as he fucked you — surely days, weeks, months?

But when Hanako suddenly clenched on his length, her tight, warm pussy provoking him to hold her closer, his eyes immediately saw red the moment he realized, under him was, in fact, not you. But, his mistress.

“K-Kōji —!” her whimpers were sensual, “Just like that!” she screamed out, her nails painting harsh lines of red on his back.

Fuck. Fuck. It’s not like it was his fault that you couldn’t conceive. You promised to have a family with him, and now, you’re telling him that don’t want to?

Fuck that.

And if he could have sex with Hanako without any caution for a possible baby that could grow in her womb after this, he would do it. He wouldn’t have used protection all this time if he had no guilt behind fucking her raw.

Or at least, that’s what he foolishly thought, a decision fueled by his anger until he actually did do it.

But it was already too late because he already released thick ropes of cum, into a woman that clearly wasn't you, when he woke up to his senses and realized what he had done.

Immediately he pulled himself out of Hanako’s cunt to ejaculate the rest of his seed out of her, ignoring her needy whines as she pouted at the sudden emptiness she felt from Kōji's cock not filling her to the brim.

What the hell was he thinking?! There was no such thing as a safe day. Especially not when you were supposed to be his future. The rightful one to bear his children.

But underneath him was a smiling and panting Hanako, blissfully fucked as she mistook her boyfriend to be fingering her to force his leaking cum back into her. Foolishly wrapping her arms around his neck, she sealed the deal with a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

——

You didn’t have much growing up. It was just you, mom, and grandma. Well, that was until your mom passed away when you were in high school. Since then money has always been tight. Especially when trying to pay for Obachan’s medical bills, juggling multiple jobs after school was normal for you, getting wrecked by the cruelty of the world was a part of your daily life.

You worked through school, and college was nothing but an elite dream you not even dared wanted for yourself. That was until you met a strange boy, one who nervously pranced as he confessed his feelings to you on top of the school’s rooftop.

Kōji Nakamura changed your life.

Kōji was a kind boy. He listened despite you not talking much and would remember the smallest of details about you. Though awkward in his profession of love, he still cared for you deeply. It was in his actions as he held your bag and waited to walk you home after your part-time job. It was in his sweet gestures to pack you lunch, waking up extra early just so he could catch you before leaving for the day.

There was a sense of timidness you felt whenever he held your hand. As if he was scared you would break if he held it any harder.

He taught you to dream and enlightened your once dull days into something worthwhile. His smile illuminated your future, and to him, you entrusted your everything.

But it wasn’t until Grandma passed away you felt alone. A loneliness that ate up your core, slowly devouring every aspect of you, crippling you from freedom. The days when you sat alone at home, stomach grumbling from having little to eat as you waited for your beloved Obachan to come back home… only for her to never return deeply traumatized you.

So you vowed, that if Kōji was the next best thing in your life, you wouldn’t let him go. The thought of feeling lonely again struck fear in your heart, causing you to cling to him even more.

The relationship was never this bad… it wasn’t until the debt started to fuel your fights. Nights that were once full of cuddles and warmth slowly became cold and hostile with backs turned to one another. The bags under Kōji's eyes would increasingly darken, and his sighs deepened whenever he would see you in old clothes that were out of style.

But still, it was easier to deal with the neglect than to be alone again…

It’s a shame how even in the turmoil, you seek out what’s familiar, even when it eats you up from the inside. And somehow in the pain, you felt a sense of comfort.

But maybe this dream, like a glass menagerie that’s so fragile that seems to always taunt you, always feeling too far away to protect, wasn’t what you’ve thought was worth protecting.

And it scared you that he was nothing but a mirage, a foolish dream, of your delusions that one day better days will come…

But strangely so, you foolishly find comfort, again, in the man that you’ve recently met as he sits in front of you while boldly looking into your eyes. He’s smiling as if he, too, would protect you. Carefully listening to your few words as you spill the story about your miscarriage to him, he offers a smirk without any irreverence to life,

“Want me to kill him?” Satoru asked while sitting next to you, his cheeks feeling cold from the night. “I mean it,” he reiterated with a blank expression while looking forward.

“I wish,” you chuckle, feeling a load off your shoulders as you confess about the miscarriage you’ve suffered almost a year back. It was much harder then compared to now. It was hard to sleep with the debt collectors constantly threatening and trashing your apartment, your anxiety heightened every morning when you woke up. You didn’t mean to keep it a secret from Kōji, the day you found out you’d lost your baby was the first day he didn’t sleep at home. “I guess I’m just afraid to bring it up to him.”

“Leave him and come to me,” the older man confessed, “I’m rich, handsome, and believe it or not,” he turned to you, “I’m very good in bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his childish boasting. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was wrong to be here, feeling a sense of warmth in your heart while talking to another man who wasn’t your lover. But was it a crime to be selfish, just for once.

“Hm… Yamakage-san, can I ask you a question?” you hummed out his name, holding onto your beer can as you took a sip for courage.

“Sure, if you call me Satoru.” He smirked at you, pushing his hair back which exposed his chiseled jaw and pretty neckline.

“You’re silly.” Shaking your head before continuing with your question, seriously asking. “Why are you so nice to me?”

“Like I said when I met you, I just want to be friends with you.”

“Why?” curious as to why someone like him would even want to spend a minute of his time with you.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re probably popular with girls, you're rich, and most likely have your life set for you.”

Cocking his head in confusion, “So, if I’m popular with girls, am rich, and have a bright future, I can’t be your friend?”

“No.”

“Then how about your lover?”

“You already know the answer to that, Yamakage-San,” laughing when you see him roll his eyes and mumble under his breath. “Yea, sure whatever, you’re still with the asshole.”

The cold must’ve gotten to your senses. Because you couldn’t help but look at his glossy lips pouting, wondering how soft it would be to kiss his lips, and feel his touch as he tenderly held you for an embrace.

Would it feel different from Kōji's?

Furthermore, you couldn’t help but daydream, maybe if the universe was fair to you just once… if you had met Yamakage Satoru before Kōji… would your life have been a bit different?

Maybe if you made a decision, your fate could change.

So without much thought, you softly asked.

“Then can you kiss me?” in your thoughts.

——

Kōji nervously sat in his living room, biting his nails as he waited for you to come back home. You were always quick to come home after work, ready to greet him despite whatever you were doing. but when he arrived, you weren’t there.

With no letter updating him like usual, or the freshly made soup and rice prepared for him for breakfast, the apartment felt vacant, absent of any life.

Guilt started to eat up at his core, especially after last night’s mistake of fucking Hanako raw and cumming inside her. What the hell was he thinking?

He didn’t mean for his affair to go this far. He just wanted a little fling to distract him from the frustrations he felt when he saw you — a constant reminder of his failures.

It was amusing at first when Hanako hit on him. The underclassman that used to follow him around in college, had now become a woman. And was willing to fulfill his sexual desires and stroke his ego as he wanted.

As the days passed, Kōji couldn’t help but feel enticed by the dichotomy of both women in his life. Hanako looked like she grew up privileged and loved, it was in her expensive articles of clothing and perfume she showered herself with. She was quirky and vibrant, ready to cutely embrace and shower him affectionately. While you wore nothing but baggy clothes that did nothing for your figure and were boring like a wilted flower.

“Ahh,” Hanako threw her arms around him, her cheeks planted on his firm chest as he listened to his erratic heartbeat as both naked bodies cooled down from the intense sex they’d had prior, “I’m so happy I think I can get married at this instant if it’s with you,” she giggled while snuggling herself closer to him.

“Marriage?” Kōji scoffed, a pang in his chest thickening when he immediately thought of you. Hanako didn’t know he was still with you, nor was it that she cared to ask. The conversation never flowed in that direction. And even if it did, what difference did it make when they’ve already fucked.

But unlike him, Hanako was serious about her relationship with Kōji.

“You don’t want to get married with me?” Hanako pouted, “You should be happy your young girlfriend is even mentioning of getting married!”

Trying to change the subject, Kōji asked, “Did you find your phone?”

“Yea! It was on my desk in the morning with a letter from my boss saying he found it!” She exclaimed while perched on her elbow, her voluptuous breasts littered with kiss marks, shamelessly laid out for Kōji to see.

“Be careful.” His chest was relieved, “and delete those videos, what if someone sees them.”

“Hmph,” pouting as she pinched his nose, playfully glaring as she cupped his face to land a fat kiss on her boyfriend’s bruised lips, “no one will see, and who cares! We’re dating anyways!”

“But back to what I was saying, you’re at a good age to get married Kōji. Don’t you want to settle down?” Resting her chin on his sternum, looking up through her wispy lashes, she asked with the expectation that her boyfriend would want to have a future with her.

Marriage. Kōji once wanted that.

“I do,” he agreed with his lover, tightening his hold on her waist as he pulled her closer, “I just don’t think it’s the most feasible especially when it’s so hard to take care of myself.”

“Have you thought of wanting children, Kōji?” the woman cautiously asked, imagining how good a father Kōji would be for their future children.

“Mhm.” He’s thought many times about it. Too many that he’s often dreamt about it too.

“Tell me,” Hanako giggled, her love for this man growing in her heart.

“Nothing much. I just a child that looks like my wife and I.” His mind colored with a hopeful dream filled with you. “And maybe live in a small apartment where we can on weekend trips and eat lots of good food.”

Kōji knew having a child with you was a luxury. But he couldn’t help but feel disappointment when you confessed it would be difficult. But you were always quick to remind him, if things got better...

He wondered if he was the cause of such misfortune since he had no money. And in his insecurity, he fueled his rage on you.

“Kōji,” the younger woman called out his name, drawing circles on his chest as she looked up with eyes brimming with tears, “don’t give up on that dream, okay?”

I’ll make sure to make it happen for you, Hanako internally promised as she held onto her stomach, unaware that she was already steps into making it come true.

…

Days had passed since the incident of him walking off on you. It’s been plaguing his mind as the memory of your pained expression haunted his every moment. You were supposed to be waiting for him like always. The kind and boring you that would do anything for him; strangely, now, you weren’t here.

It’s been hours since he’s arrived home, and he’s been looking at his phone every minute hoping that you would message him, check up on him, and care for him like usual.

But outside of Hanako’s useless messages, his phone was silent.

His guilty conscience couldn’t take it anymore as he lifted his phone to dial your number, rushing out to get some fresh air from the balcony. Despite the cool wind, his heart felt stuck, encaged by his poor decisions that ultimately caused his relationship with you to turn sour.

It was all his fault and he knew it. You weren’t deserving of such treatment, but the anger… his insecurity that brewed knowing he’s failed to protect the woman he once passionately loved, shamefully overcame him.

He had no one to blame but himself, but you were willing to take his wrath… so he let you.

The number you have dialed is not available, please leave —

Kōji dialed your number again and upon the third ring, he was faced with a scene that would embark on a new trajectory of his sanity — or what was left of it.

He was sure it was you. There was no denying that Kōji wouldn’t be able to identify his girlfriend of almost a decade coming out of a stranger’s car, smiling and laughing as she held onto a large bouquet too grand for her to carry.

Kōji couldn’t help but recall a memory when he took you to the mall, excited to buy you something nice only to leave disappointed when you wouldn’t let him buy anything not even a singular rose saying he needed to save money. He remembered you telling him that you didn’t like flowers. But there you were beautifully smiling with dozens in your arms.

Who the fuck was that? Kōji's eyes then zoomed onto the man, and for a brief second, it felt as if he’d seen the stranger before. But he decided to ignore it because his main priority was you.

It wasn’t until minutes later Kōji heard your keys rattling to open the door. He wasn’t sure what he needed to say, what he needed to do — but the moment he saw your face, he immediately ran towards you and pulled you into a suffocated embrace.

“Where you’ve been?!” His voice sounded muffled into your neck, “I’ve been waiting for you this entire time!”

Usually, you would console him, and apologize for making him worry. But today, all Kōji received was a slight nudge as you pushed him away, “sorry, I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” Kōji murmured, awkwardly standing at the doorway as he watched you take off your coat, and prepare the roses into a vase.

Like deja vu, Kōji snaked his strong arms around your waist, holding you tightly as if he needed you to know, you were his. “Who gave you those flowers?” Kōji cautiously asked while kissing your neck. His heart momentarily stopped beating when he noticed that your neck was bruised just above the navel of your neck.

“A friend.” That was all you stated before making your way into the bedroom to sleep, ignoring him for the rest of the night.

— the night prior.

Occasionally, men would shamelessly ask for favors while drunk as they checked in. Usually, all you had to do was deny their request, hand over their key, and simply wish them a good night’s rest as you stay safe behind the plastic barrier.

It didn’t bother you when they did, because how are you going to argue with a person that’s incoherent to the point they can’t give you the right transactional card because they’re too drunk. It was a waste of your time to stress about it.

The money was good, and that was all to it.

And usually, despite being drunk, they would stumble up the stairs, eventually making their way to their motel room, ultimately forgetting their actions in the morning as they sped back to their waiting wives.

But today, one customer seems to be the outlier.

“C’me on,” the drunken man slurred his words, eyes faded as drool leaked from the corner of his stubby chin, “I’ll g-give you a good time!”

“I decline your offer sir,” you sighed, “But please, if you can provide me with your credit card, not your business card.”

“You fucking gold digger,” he cursed at you, “why do you need my card? You’re trying to scam me?”

“No, sir I —”

Intruding, a man suited in black walked up to the front, presenting his credit card with a simple request, “If you’d excuse me. I would like to buy out the rest of the empty rooms.” And with that the drunken man was easily escorted out with the help of the odd stranger.

Your shift would usually end at around 5 am, but since all rooms were booked out, Akiyama-san excused you to leave early.

Packing your bags you wondered if Satoru would be there waiting for you like always. Leaning against the pebbled wall as he boredly kicked rocks to waste time until you ended. And to no avail, he was.

But today, standing in front of you, with his height domineering above you, Satoru had a bruised lip and cheek as he stood under the dim street light.

“What happened?!” you immediately shrieked before cupping his face, pulling him down to meet your level, before quickly blowing on his wound to ease the possible pain.

Satoru liked that, the worry in your eyes as you cared for him, your small hands holding him in place as you examined his wound, completely angered that someone would dare assault him.

“A grown man like you going around fighting people.”

“It’s really not my fault,” he pouted, his hands sneakily finding rest on your waists.

“Come here.” Your hand locked with his as you led him inside to use the first aid kit, ordering the grown man around,“and sit down.” Your hands felt warm despite your fingers barely grasping his four fingers. It was cute, adorable even, how you easily controlled him on a tight leash.

“Yes ma’am .” He obediently listened, spreading his legs out so that you could comfortably position yourself to place ointment on his wound. He had a clear view of your face — enticing and pure, with your delicate and soft features as your lashes fluttered and brows cutely furrowed while carefully placing the medication on his lip.

Ahh if you would care for him like this, Satoru thought, then he would glady get beaten up if he could be pampered by you…

“Fuck, what the hell?!” the drunken man found himself on the floor, knees scraped from the sudden brute force. “Do you want to fucking die?!”

“Me?” Satoru eyes gleamed brightly in the dark, chuckling at how pathetic the drunk man sounded, “not really. But —”

The old man screeched out when a wad of his thinning hair was abruptly pulled, “I wonder who’s the one that wants to die between you and I? Come on, guess. I’ll give you one chance.”

“Are you crazy? — Ah! My hair!” the main yelped in pain as Satoru’s grip got even harder.

“Hm.. you seem sober enough.” Satoru hummed, crouching down as he peered into the man face. “Hit me.”

“You must be out —”

“Hurry.”

Angered at the younger man’s provocation, the man swung his plump fist, cursing as he almost lost balance from the force, “it’s people like you who are ruining the future generations, you fucking punk!”

The punch echoed through the quiet alleyway.

“Good.” Spiting out his blood, Satoru fixed his posture to hover over the man, taking out a pair of black gloves from his pocket as he swiftly wore it, hiding a prominent scar he had just under his right wrist. “Do you know who I am?”

“What the hell are you saying? How am I supposed to —”

“You dont?” His blue eyes pierced straight into the man’s soul, burning his mind so he wouldn’t dare come across you any more. “Then, it’s your lucky day because you'll remember me even in your dreams.”

Crack!

Thud.

… Maybe it was the position that you were in, but you noticed while tending to his wound, Satoru was dangerously close — far too close that you could feel his soft breathing as he observed your features, his azul eyes noticeably landing on your lips.

“you’re so pretty,” he confessed, his eyes softening up as he sees a change in your expression.

“and you’re crazy.” you tried pulling away, only to immediately fail as his strong hands pulled you in closer, your palms resting on his chest.

“let me ask a question.” Satoru brushed his mildly calloused finger under your eye, “this scar— where did you get it?”

“to be honest, I don’t remember… Obachan told me it was from an accident when I was younger.”

“oh— I see,” his voice sounded mildly disappointed, “it’s beautiful nonetheless.”

“I think something happened to your head when you got hit—“

“I’m being serious,” his lips hovered over yours, his minty breath fanning just below your nose, cooling your nerves, “you make me go fucking insane.” he sulked, placing his cheek on your chest as he looked up at you.

It felt as if your heart was going to burst out of your chest. It was amazing how Satoru didn’t say anything about the loud thumping despite his ears placed directly over the beating organ. “Don’t look at me like that.” You stated while pushing his hair out of his eyes, a visible grin formed on his lips making your heart flutter. His looks were enticing, absolutely cruel of him to look at you like that.

“Like what?” Satoru challenged, a smirk growing on his lips as if he’s found a way to the golden prize, trailing his large hands up to cup your face as you shly removed your gaze on him. “Hey,” he whispered, “Look at me.”

And you do, and his expression is gentle. “Tell me, like what?” He asked again, his voice an octave lower.

“Like you love me.” you honestly answered, and his lips come crashing onto yours and you’re immediately pulled up onto his strong thighs, saddling his clothed crotched with one hand placed behind your neck while the other mounded your ass.

The kiss was vigorous. Passionate. Sloppy as your tongues couldn’t meet in perfect coordination, but both of you didn’t care.

“I’ve always loved you.”

His lips trailed kisses along your jaw, steadying you in place as he took the lead, allowing you to feel his hot breath on your skin. “S-satoru,” you mewled out his name.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Say that again,” his lips murdered yours, his fingers organically slipping under your clothes. His kisses felt tender and deep, tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his tongue as you breathed each other in, occasionally leaving open mouth kisses to smother you with soft kisses around your chest, shoulders, and neck. Your skin stung when he sucked on your clavicle, swirling his tongue with his saliva after he’s marked you while your hips moved in tandem to ride his strong thigh, feeling his hardened bulge sadly trapped in his slacks.

You felt his fingers unbutton your top. Was he planning on taking it further? Your mind raced, bouncing around with thoughts that challenged your morality or if it even matter at this point.

But you decide on the former, not wanting to dishonor Satoru like that, but also to keep your dignity to break up with your estranged lover before possibly starting a new relationship.

“S-satoru —” You pulled at his hair, using all of your resolve to get his attention, “wait for me,” you huffed out and his lips immediately stopped making love to you. A trail of spit connecting your lips together as he clenched his jaws to pull himself from absolutely fucking you senseless right here — if you’d wanted to.

Placing your forehead to kiss his as you gulped down a wad of your saliva down your parched throat, trying to steady your erratic heart.

“until I break up with Kōji… wait for me.”

“I'm good at waiting,” Satoru promised with a gentle kiss placed on top of your scar, “it’s all I’ll ever do for you, princess.”

——

Kōji has been unusually antsy these past weeks. He rarely came home late, and followed you around like a neglected puppy trying to get your attention. It was as if the roles were magically swapped between the two of you, where he was now the one painfully waiting for you to return home to him.

But it’s now been days since he’s last seen you. Where have you gone? When all of your belongings were still in this crappy apartment? Where can you be, when he was here?

At first he assumed you were at work, until you didn’t show up to the apartment anymore. Regret filled his conscience when he had no where to look nor call, because he’s never asked where you’ve been working at. All he did was expect you to pay off his debt.

He regretted ever putting his relationship with you on the line. It was a foolish decision, one he’ll take his whole life trying to rectify and own up to his sins.

He was sure of it that you’d forgive him — he needed you, without you there was no sense for him to live.

The sight of the love mark he’s seen on your neck crippled him. It drove him mad to think someone else possibly touched you. All you needed to do was pick up his call. He’ll make it right. He’ll do better.

He’ll end things with Hanako. That’ll be easy because she wasn’t worth much to his life than a simple fuck, compared to you who’s been with him for over a decade.

He’ll find another job if that’ll mean you’ll stay with him forever. He’ll fulfill his promises to you and make you happy — one chance was all he needed.

Pick up. Kōji nervously bit his fingers, his naked feet loudly thumping on the hard floor, causing the neighbors below to retaliate in annoyance. but he didn’t care.

The line continued to ring — just one chance was all he needed.

Ring.

how many times has he called? Surely it was close to a hundred.

Ring.

Rin — “Hello?” he heard your sweet voice on the other line.

“Baby!” he urgently shouted, his chapped lips now bleeding, “where are you?” he felt a wob of anxiety pooling at the base of his throat, gripping onto his phone in anticipation of your words.

“I’m not coming back Kōji.”

“what do you mean? you can leave like that. no— Baby, where are you —?“

“Hanako.” his mind fell blank when he heard his mistress’s name on the line, his Achilles heel that would ultimately kill him upon strike. “I know everything, Kōji…” he heard you deeply sighing.

No, no, no! this wasn’t it. you weren’t supposed to know!

“Baby no — no! Listen to me,” Kōji panicked as he heard your sniffles, oh… how he desperately wished this was a prank, a nightmare he’d wake up to and have you rightfully in his arms.

“With what you’ve done, I didn’t think you needed proper closure… but I do feel like I owe you this one thing. If you look underneath my clothes, there should be a box. take a look inside, and it should be self explanatory what it is.”

Box? what fucking box, he thought while rushing into your once shared bedroom, rummaging through your side of the closet. It was then he noticed most of your clothes weren’t there anymore — and there it was, a small pink box hidden in the corner.

“Kōji.”

He opened the box as you relayed your last words to him.

And there he saw a sonogram of a baby in his hands, dating back to a little over a year…

“ I hope you can find happiness in your life without me now, Kōji.”

… just around the time his affair started.

“goodbye.” And Kōji didn’t know those would be the last words he’ll ever hear from you.

hook, line, sinker.

The onus to his failure — you, his beloved flower that’s withered under his unruly demise have finally found freedom from the one that’s plucked all of your beauty away.

——

You’ve contemplated for days wondering how you should end it with Kōji. Despite the pain he’s put you through, he was once someone you’ve loved and dreamt a future with. You knew him longer than living without him, and he was all you had for years of your life.

All you’re firsts you’ve experienced with him, and with him you’ll experience this one last thing.

“I gotta do this,” you muttered to yourself, staring at your phone that’s been ringing nonstop for the past couple days.

To simply let go of a relationship, a person who you’ve known for so long is often a quite difficult thing to do. The world you wanted with Kōji, the future family and promises that were made between you and him, the sacred bond of love that once burned so fiercely was nothing more than a fever dream that has shallowed out into a distasteful nightmare. And it was time to let go.

Broken pieces can’t put themselves back together. They’ll always stay broken. And Kōji has broken you.

For a few weeks, he followed you around, begged – absolutely begged — on his knees that you would forgive him for saying such hurtful things to you. That he loved you, cared for you, wanted only you.

Lies. lies. All of it were lies.

He didn’t love you. If love was what he had, then you wanted no part of it.

Because the same day that he knelt on the floor groveling in his self pity, you saw him sneak out at night, receiving a phone call from Hanako as she waited for him at a nearby park. Kissing him with tears in her eyes.

And the self proclaimed man that continuously boasted you were all he’ll ever need, your first love and companion for over a decade, did not push his mistress away, but instead embraced and solemnly confessed that he was sorry.

That was all you needed before closing your chapter with Kōji, forever locking it up to be thrown into the pits of hell to perish for all of eternity. and along with him, would the memory of your lost child accompany him.

Not a single tear fell from your eyes for Kōji — you won’t allow it. But instead, it fell for the stupid man that’s stolen your heart.

Was he crazy?! It’s been over 20 years —

Your lungs felt heavy as you ran down the stairs, the dimly lit path almost dangerous as you breezed through, your legs speeding up in desperation to meet him — he was going to be there, always waiting to walk you back home.

The exit was close, just a couple more steps and you were free to hold him, kiss him, love him.

And opening the door, standing at his usual spot just underneath the postlamp, was no one.

Your eyes feverishly looked around, your head spinning from how fast your eyes trekked to look for Satoru. Your eyes becoming blurry from the tears that welled inside.

Where is he? He’s always there —

You panicked when you couldn’t find him anywhere, he was supposed to be there! He always was —

“Who are you looking for?” he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning against your cheeks as tears threatened to spill. “Is he handsome? Because you’re making me jealous —”

Unabashed you mark him as yours. Forcing your lips on his soft, sweet ones, throwing your arms around his neck as you carelessly jumped into his embrace, knowing he’ll catch you. With your legs wrapped around his waists, your cheeks felt warm and the kiss tasted salty as you heard Satoru groan into the intimate kiss.

His lips chased after yours as you lean out to catch a breath. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism,” Satoru teased with a thin line of spit connecting you both together.

“There’s literally no one here to see us, Satoru.” It was close to midnight, and the streets were empty of people besides you two.

He deadpanned with a lifted brow, “am I not a pair of eyes?” he scoffed as he carefully placed you down.

“Whatever,” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you nuzzled your face into his chest, his arms immediately wrapping around your body. “Where were you?” you softly asked, the confidence in your voice shaking, “you were supposed to be here, stupid.”

“Sorry,” you felt his chest numbly vibrate as he spoke, “had to throw something away,” Satoru murmured with his lips pressed onto your head.

“Hm?” you looked up through your lashes, resting your chin on his sternum, “throw what away?” you curiously asked.

A rosey hue immediately painted on his cheeks, “okay, you can’t just do that,” he muttered while cupping your face, nuzzling the tip of his nose lightly against yours, “you’ll kill me looking so cute like that.”

There was no denying that those were the same pair of eyes that you’ve fallen for years ago. The same pair of arms, once lanky and thin, now strong and secure … that saved you as you fell down the stairs.

“Satoru.” You hummed out his name, basking in his warmth as he, too, hummed back a response, “yes?”

You wanted to desperately ask. ‘How have you been? Have you been happy? Have you fulfilled your dreams?

“Does your scar ever hurt anymore?” Your voice lightly cracked as you pulled his wrist close to your lips, kissing his skin as your vision started to become blurred from tears.

“No,” he professed, his eyes softening from the realizing you’ve remembered, “not since I’ve met you.”

Your heart pounded. It felt like a knot formed at the base of your diaphragm, making it difficult to breathe, to let out the words you’ve been dying to ask since you’ve had the dream. Everything around you felt loud, blaring into your ears and overstimulating your senses.

What if you’re wrong? What if he isn’t who you thought?

Satoru intertwined his fingers with yours, breaking you from your thoughts as you followed him from behind, looking at his broad back as his veinous hand swallowed yours. “Let’s go home, angel.”

And everything went silent. Like morning dew, his voice replenished your soul, anchoring you from insanity. His simple, couple of words fueled a courage for you to ask —

But even if you’re wrong … would that change anything?

Your hand tightly held his as you stopped in your track as you longly breathed in his scent. The chilled air tasted oddly sweet in that moment, and your hands could still barely wrap around his — just like years ago.

And for once in your life, you decided nothing mattered anymore. From all the times the world trampled and left you broken and bare, you decided today you’d find liberosis to it all.

“Satoru.” His name came out in a sob, your lips trembling while he, too, stopped himself.

“... are you still open to marrying me?” you could see his breaths become staggered, waiting for you to continue forth with your sentence. “And I’ve grown all my teeth…and could properly read out your name, Satoru Gojo?”

Turning around, a solid tear fell from his majestic blue eyes, the whisps of his lashes damp with tears.

“Took you long enough to remember me, Toothless.”

——

You couldn’t erase the past, nor could you predict the future. But with your lips intertwined, you found solace in the simple act of being together with him. And as you held each other tight, the gravity of your connection pulled you to kiss him again — again, and again.

You don’t recall much before finding yourself entangled in his arms, his lips sloppily kissing yours as he mindlessly pressed his thumb into the scanner to finally get you both through his door.

Satoru brought you to his home, silently driving with only a firm grip on your thigh, finding solace in the small physical contact alone. Anything else would’ve enraged a monster inside of him, making him completely mad, as he sped through the street in his Daytona — mentally noting that he’ll need a more spacious car asap.

Once more, you met his lips in a deeper kiss. His lips moved in tandem with yours, and the taste of his tongue fueled a warmth in your core, your panties pooling with warm slick, longing for him to touch it.

“S-satoru,” you moaned out his name, your fingers grasping at his hair as his tongue traveled down the navel of your neck, peppering hushed kisses along your skin. Slipping a hand between your legs, rubbing your clothed core with the tip of his fingers, Satoru purred as he pushed you down onto his couch.

You could feel his mischievous grin because his teeth grazed your skin, too late when you realized that he had his fingers doing circular motions against your clothed clit. “You’re so wet already,” he excitedly proclaimed, the hard rut of his erection rubbing against you.

You squeezed your legs shyly as you nodded. “Yeah.”

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he shakily let out a breath, his pupils dilated as his palm pressed up down on your stomach up to your breasts, “and I wouldn’t mind that too much,” he murmured under his breath before latching his mouth onto a nipple, continously stroking your heated cunt with his vacant hand.

It was as if your bodies were moving on its own, and you allowed it to dictate whatever action it desired. Forget everything for now, was all you could think of in your head — Kōji, Hanako, your child, all the pain, all the disappointment. Everything.

In your mind, it was all Satoru. He was the man you loved.

He sucked the rounded mass, squeezing it before swirling his tongue around your nipple. All that you could do was let your hand grab a fistful of his hair until he moved to your right breast to give it the same attention.

Your breasts felt mildly sore with how he sucked on your bud, the slight pain felt even pleasurable as his fingers slowly moved your panty to the side, the thick slick of your sobbing cunt desperately wanting to coat his long, pretty fingers with your cum.

Though slow, you were at least successful in unbuttoning his white shirt. The heat of his defined abdomen felt like a sin to touch, as his stomach flinched at the plush of your fingertips grazing against his exposed skin. You then tried finding access to his zipper but with the rush of impatience and pumped adrenaline, your hands trembled, utterly making it impossible for you to even unbuckle his belt.

“Relax, angel,” he chuckled, his mouth releasing your tender breast with a sultry pop. With his arm caging you from above, kissing you while his hands swiftly grasped onto your wrists, he led your palms to cup the mold of his hardened, clothed cock. Satoru hissed at the contact as he pulled on your lower lip, “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

You were laying underneath him with your legs spread open, submitted under complete bliss as you watched him unravel with his cheeks flushed while his brows deeply furrowed. Something about the way he desperately needed your touch, his hand forcing your palm to hold him harder, cup his throbbing cock as his hips started to thrust upward.

You avoided his eyes, his blue eyes much too intense as if he could read through your soul.

“don’t be shy on me now.” he commanded, quickly sitting on his knees, his legs caging you at your waist with his crotch pushing against your entrance. Now grasping both your wrists, prompting you to pull down the zipper, pulling your hands into his briefs to pull out his cock. He was warm, your hand barely fitting in from the utter size of this man. Satoru grinned as he witnessed your small hands trying to wrap around his pulsing length. “we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

You gulped as you tried to laugh it off. It was ridiculous how big he was. Criminal that he was even pretty down there.

The next thing you knew, he was pinning your wrist on either side of your head concurrently to when he latched his mouth back into yours. Your attention forced back onto the man that had you digging your nails into his skin as you felt himself lowering down. He was smothering you with soft kisses around your chest, stomach, and down to your inner thighs. By spreading your legs further apart, you could feel his mouth moving closer and closer to your cunt until his tongue found its way to delve into your slit.

Holy shit. Was this how it feels to receive oral? Kōji’s never done it like this, especially not this well —

“A-Aaah! S-Satoru—!” you yelped as his hot tongue took a long stroke up your pussy.

His kisses were tender and deep, tracing the outline of your folds with the tip of his tongue as he breathed you in. Expertly parting your folds with his fingers so he could do a better job at lapping his tongue inside of your core, breathing you in and sucking your juices, allowing the squelching noises to tickle your ear like a sweet melody. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “You taste so good.”

Your nails were digging onto the couch, thighs pushing against his head, desperate to hold anything as you stared at the ceiling, seeing euphoric stars on his living room ceiling. It was in the way Satoru stroked his tongue around your clit, sucking at it tenderly as he teased his fingers at your entrance, coating up his fingers to easily enter inside your plush walls that made you tremble.

Your head felt dizzy as Satoru did more by flicking his tongue on your nub, soon replacing his mouth from ransacking your sweet pussy as he palmed your whole genital with a cocky smirk, when he felt your hips thrust upward, growing impatient at his lack of quickly fucking you.

“S-satoru please,” you begged, the heat of your body feeling as if you’ll explode if he touched you any further.

“Shh… I know, pretty,” kissing your inner thigh as he settled himself besides you, his arm snaking underneath to use as a neck rest, his hand holding your face to kiss him as he started to play with your pussy. Making short circles around your hardened bud, quickly holding you closer when he felt you clench as he pushed one, then two fingers, and ultimately three into you.

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple, yet his fingers pressed harder on your clit,” let me play with you for a bit.”

Your muscles start to tighten, and the ache between your thighs become increasingly unbearable as the coiling tension inside your stomach burned a fire within you that was ticking to erupt. “You gonna cum?” Satoru breathed into your ear, his teeth nibbling your helix, the padding of his fingers intentionally grazing past your magical spot as he fingered you so erotically.

“P-please Satoru — ‘m close!” you desperately begged as tears welled up causing your impartial sight to feel even more suffocating.

“Aw —” Satoru felt his eyes roll back from your dulcet moans, oh how he longed for you to cry out his name as he’s got you pinned under him. And your tears, god you looked so perfect crying for him.

“Then cum.” He ordered before angling his fingers to finally poke at your g spot, the squelching, sultry sounds of your pussy echoing through his living room as your muffled cries were swallowed up by his lips.

And moments thereafter, your bottom felt damp as warm liquid squirted out of you. “Such a good girl,” Satoru praised, his deep breath heavy and lascivious as he slowed his pace of fingering you.

You were left breathless, your throat feeling dry while Satoru continuously kissed your body. “C’me here,” Satoru prompted, wrapping your arms around his neck before quickly holsting you bridal style, his lips never leaving yours as he walked up the stairs.

You were so engrossed with the feeling of his lips that you didn’t even realize he had your legs wrapped around his waist. And with your arms around his neck, it was impossible to break the kiss as he led you to his bed, trails of clothes littered to leave an evidence of love.

With each step he took, your kiss only got deeper and deeper. You had never felt such intensity throughout your relationship with Kōji, maybe you’ve had… but Satoru was intoxicating, leaving you drunk by his touch alone.

You were gasping on his mouth, had his lips completely enveloped with yours. His lips inch around your jawline. Your neck. Your chest. Stumbling onto his bed, Satoru was quick to nestle in between your legs, his lips having no mind to stop kissing you even for a moment to breath, his hands feeling every inch of your heated body as he hardened bulge pressed against your tummy.

You feel the soft sheets on your back, the plush of his duvet lightly embracing your body as he settled himself on top of you. It was hard to look in his eyes, shy that you’ve just squirted in front of him — first try — when Kōji’s never been able to do that for you. But more importantly, when that thing between his legs looked so angry and wanting.

Would this even fit — Kōji’s wasn’t as big as Sato —

“What’s wrong?” he asked, grazing his thumb on your scar as he rested above you. You could feel his hard member brushing against your thigh while he gazed down at you in both worry and desire. “Look at me.”

“Y-youre really big,” you stammered, blinking your eyes from the shock of speaking out your intrusive thoughts.

“Big?” emphazing your words while he chuckled, peppering kisses against your neck to ease your tense muscles. “never heard someone flat out say that about my cock. Most girls drool over it.”

“You fucked other girls?” you pinched his shoulder, obviously doing no damage from the sheer muscle he had packed under his skin.

“What can I do?” he gave you a wink, “I’m just so irresistible.”

“Whatever —” you murmured while rolling your eyes, “... Are you like … eight inches?”

“Probably a little over seven?” He hummed with both arms caging the sides of your head, spreading your thighs out so he could properly weave his body on top of yours. You can feel his heavy cock purposefully resting on top of your stomach as you felt him lightly grind his hips in a slow up and downward motion.

“you’re definitely not just a little over seven,” you gasped, caving into his touch, feeling your fiery core unbearable as you readied yourself to welcomed him in.

“I like to round down,” he teased, his soft lips landing on your temple. “But guess you’ll have to measure for yourself,” he soothed as he now rubbed his head against your wet folds, stroking his member as he made himself available for anything you’d want. “There’s two ways to measure,” his hand traveled to your throat, lightly grasping it before taking it down to your plush stomach, “your choice, princess.”

Wrong. In fact, there were three ways to logically go about measuring Gojo Satoru’s cock.

Get a ruler and measure.

Feel him deeply down your throat, gagging as his balls tickle your lips.

Feel the tip of his head pumping inside you, your palm locating just how far he inches inside.

Gojo felt his heart rate pick up as he watched you, and it didn’t help how enticing you looked as crawled in between his legs, looking so dainty in between his thighs. You lean down, without giving him the leisure to breathe before pressing a soft kiss to the tip, and he groans, cock twitching slightly at the gesture.

It was if he’s been bewitched by dark magic when he heard your soft giggles, hypnotizing his mind to think he was hallucinating from seeing you play with his needy head as you watched his cock twitch whenever you swiped your tongue under his frenulum.

This was better than whatever he could’ve imagined when he fucked himself to sleep thinking of you these past nights ever since finding you.

Your lips perfectly wrapped around his aching length, and he’s choking on curses at the sensation of your warm mouth.

“Fuck— you’re perfect,” his hand finding refuge on top of your head as he leads you in a slow pace. He truly had the prettiest cock that matched his beautiful angel-like face. You giggled again — god it sounded like heaven to his ears — as it twitched from your hold before you swirled your tongue around the pink tip, immediately tasting his precum that leaked so wonderfully out of his slit. It was salty, musky, but also a tad bit sweet?

Gently sucking his head earned you a raspy moan out of him, so you teased him more by allowing his tip to reach your inner cheek as you tightened your mouth around his shaft.

“God—fuck, mhm like that, baby,” he moans, a hand finding the top of your head, while the other rested on the base of your throat. Hollowing your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his shaft as your hand rubs his tense thigh. “feel so good, sweetheart, let me in deeper,” he rasps, and you feel pride swell in your chest at his praise.

Your hand move to fondle with his balls, massaging them gently as his hands fist his crisp white sheets, a loud grunt ringing through the room as he curses. Your tongue runs over the vein on the underside of his cock, and his knuckles go white from tensing around the sheets, his harsh grasp turning tighter and tighter as he tries to ground himself.

“g-gonna cum, baby,” he chokes, “fuck, fuck, fuck, that feels good.” you bob your head up and down his length faster, swallowing around him a few more times before his back arches and his hips raise. You let him in deeper, forcibly closing your eyes as you gagged whenever his hard tip hit further into your throat.

“Fuck princess —” Satoru released a harsh groan, his pupils dilated and iris’ dark as he concupisciently fucked your throat.

Thrusting into your mouth as he whines, quickly squeezing your neck to feel just how far he was rummaging your throat, his eyes rolling back when he noticed the prominent bulging of your neck before thick spurts of cum painted your throat, deeply and fully with his cum. “fuck—that’s it, sweetheart.”

His voice cracks as he lets out strings of curses, with a few more ropes of cum, his body slumps over you, leaving him panting into the room as you pop off of his cock.

“You’re spoiling me,” he rasped out with his lips barely formimg a smile, tired from how well you took his cock, “Best fucking head I’ve ever gotten.”

—

Gojo Satoru could last for hours.

His arms caressed the smooth skin of your back, his lips feathering kisses along your bust as you saddled yourself on top of him. His cock brushing against your wet pussy, warming himself up as you meticulously moved your hips slowly in response.

Trying to muffle your moan that escaped your lips from being too loud, Satoru wouldn’t dare let you do that. Placing a finger into your mouth, playing with your hot tongue, he ordered, “stop that — I want to hear you.”

“Ngh!” you immediately let out, the temptation to just force his cock into you much too unbearable. But Satoru knew that would be foolish — he would easily break you if he’d done that, and how could he? When he’s finally gotten you all for himself.

“Let me get a condom —”

“—Wait!” you stopped him from reaching for his night stand, his drawer partially opened to peak a box of XL condoms waiting to be used, “It’s okay…” you muttered.

Brushing his finger against your cheek, making sure if it was entirely okay with you,, “are you sure? It’s not a big deal for me to wear it.”

“Yes,” nodding your head as you leaned into his touch, “yea, I’m sure.”

“You think you’re ready?” He whispered while soothing your thighs, massaging your muscles as he laid soft kisses along your neck.

“Mhm — yes. I’m ready ah —,” your moans left breathlessly out your lips, music to his ears as he changed positions, turning you over so your back laid comfortably on the mattress.

“Baby,” reaching out for a pillow to place under your hips, “let’s start with the tip, I’ll go slow.”

“I can take it —” his kiss stopped you from continuing. “Don’t make this harder for me,” he warned before kissing you, his lips easing your starved cunt, drooling for him to fill you up.

You can feel Satoru soaking his length with your slick, moving his member repeatedly through your wet folds as he prepared himself to enter. “Relax for me,” Satoru cooed when he felt your tight hole repelling his entrance, “ you gotta let me in, angel.” he cooly chuckled, yet voice wasn’t anything near passive — it was impatient and starved.

The once cool room now felt hot, filled with the smell of lubricious sex as you both laid bare on his mattress. The slight pain of him pushing his head inside was quickly masked into pleasure as his hands massaged your breasts and his lips left longing stamps of love all over your body.

“Good, just like that,” Satoru's breath was warm as he continued to slowly press his length into you, often losing composure when he pushed a little too impatiently when you clenched down on him. “Fuck you’re so tight —” he groaned, gripping on the sheets to keep his sanity before possibly splitting you open.

It was cruel how warm you felt inside. It was as if his cock was meant to be wrapped by your plush, sultry walls, and it was destined that he would be the one to fill the empty space up to your cervix, linking you both into one body.

You felt full, and your mind felt cloudy to clearly tell if Satoru was all the way inside you. “A-are you in all the way?” you sniffled back the tears.

If he was the devil, you were his angel that’s tempted him to total damnation, abolished from the heaven’s for his idolatry of loving you despite the gods that created him. Because there was no way, any person would not go utterly mad when they could see what he saw.

“Almost.” Satoru answered with gritted teeth, barely holding on by a threat as he continued to push himself deeper inside you. “Ahh!” you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck, unintentionally pushing him further into you.

“S-shit,” cursing under his breath as he started to pump his cock, forcing his way inch by inch through your tight walls, until he’s finally — in what seemed like tortuous ages — kissed your cervix. It was absolutely insane how your hole perfectly stretched for him, perfectly embracing his cock as he continued to fill the void inside you.

Satoru’s member was warm inside you. Your bodies were tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking in the dimly lit room. And when you pulled away, your eyes brimming with tears were locked in a silent exchange of yearning as he looked at you with the same longing.

Without a word, Satoru reached out and gently cupped your breast, his touch sending electricity down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your lips met once more, a tender exploration of each other’s mouths, and he was taking that chance to increase his pace. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to enter you again — with more grit, and force that you were clawing at his naked back, drawing harsh marks of red on his skin. You were whimpering under him, melting into his passionate movements as he fucked you in missionary.

Your hands explored his body — his firm chest and defined six pack, to the perfect v-line down his pelvis to his pretty cock. And when you reached further down, grasping his buttocks, it felt sculpted and perfectly round, just like how his back was now angry with his muscles bulging from the extraneous use.

Feeling you touch him, a smirk grows on his lips as he stripped you from being able to touch him, his cock pressing further in as he sat on his knees, his hands pushing your thighs to your chest. “You like what you see, sweetheart? It’s all yours.”

Nodding as you reached out for him, “‘m cold Satoru, hold me,” you whined from the absence of his body heat made you feel suddenly empty.

He couldn’t deny your request because he quickly pressed his weight onto you, easily folding you like a chair as he fucked his cock into you, “see —” he placed a hand on your stomach, “aren’t you lucky girl, because this” he harshly rammed his cock into you, “is also all for you.”

Mine. like a hypnotic spell, a taunting melody, Satoru drilled it into your head that he was in fact all yours.

You have had sex with Kōji countless times before, but it was never this emotional. It was never this passionate. But with Satoru, you could tangibly feel the difference in the way he kissed you, with the way he looked at you, with the way he touched you. Everything felt surreal when you were with him.

“S-satoru!” you yelped when his thrust penetrated deeper inside you, knocking your cervix as his hips slammed into your ass.

The sound of his deep chuckle slithered through your ears as he jolted his hips forward, sending you to a state of euphoria with every deep thrust. You were barely gripping onto his back, hoping it would give you some form of stability. “Focus,” he growled, the speed of his cock unforgiving as he rutted himself into your cunt, “think of me, only me.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to. He was just too much. It was only half past midnight and he’s already come twice. It was insane how he was still so hard, his libido still strong, as he pounded you with every bit of his strength to create more friction against your moistened cunt.

While your legs were tangled around his waist, his mouth latched onto your tit when he gave each bosom a lavish suck—even going as far as circling his tongue around your nipple. It was until he began increasing the speed of his thrusts when you could no longer contain your wanton cries, “A-Aah! S-Satoru, p-please d-don’t stop!”

“Cum,” he whispered on your ear, knowing full well that your orgasm was building back on your lower abdomen, “Cum for me, honey.”

“Satoru…” Breathless and overstimulated, your nails ended up scratching his back as you clenched around his girth, milking yourself around his cock followed by your helpless cries. Your chest was rising and falling heavily after you climaxed.

I missed you, he reasoned as he continued to pistol his cock inside you, now resting both your ankles on his shoulders as he watched your breasts rhythmically bounce around with each thrust.

“S-satoru, I slow d-down! I just came —” Your moans came out louder than you initially expected, even louder than the skin-slapping noises from when his pelvis hit your ass. Your entire body was being pushed and pulled as he mercilessly drilled your hole with harsh jostles.

His room was dark, but even if you couldn’t see his face, you were certain that he had a million-dollar grin displayed. “Say my name.” he devilishly taunted, his voice leaving goosebumps over your body.

His shaft was already coated by slick and the squelching sounds only added to the intensity of your arousal. You barely managed out his name. “Sa-tor-u!”

“Good girl.” A wave of pleasure washed over your body when he quickly flipped you over, as the feeling of his hot breath tickled your spine. Your legs were shaking while your head fell on the cushion, leaving your ass up high and your face down low.

His fingers were teasing your entrance despite already being stretched by his fully erected cock—satiating your clit with circular movements in synchronization with his penetrative actions. Satoru just adored how you clenched around him even through his words alone and that dominance he had over you was fueling his God complex. You could feel him trying to angle his cock better as he watched how it was disappearing from the cavern between your plump folds. And for him, nothing could look more perfect, more beautiful that your cunt stretched out so nicely to fit his cock.

“Ngh! So good… so good,” you whimpered in a breathless voice, upper body pressed against the mattress as he worked on destroying your pussy. Despite his devilish being, Satoru certainly fucked like a god as he sent you to seventh heaven when his tip rammed your g-spot. “Aah—ah! Fuck!”

Conniving. So wrenchingly cunning. He certainly wasn’t lying when he said he fucked well — too well, was the problem.

Pulling his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only he would ever allow you to know. He’s gone through countless simulations as he fucked his fists thinking of how’d you look when making love. He knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear.

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”

“so full,” you gasp, desperately holding onto the pillow for dear life, “feel so good —fuck.”

“'m getting jealous of a pillow,” he warns, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he pulled the pillow away, a vein bulging from his temple, “but look at you, it’s a shame you can’t see what I see. Then you’d know why I can’t keep my hands off of you and so jealous — it’s fucking impossible.”

The increased roughness and speed in his pace caused you a shockwave of intense sensual gratification that sent you to euphoria. The moans and the salacious sounds that came from his rough pace drowned your room with a surge of bliss because Gojo never once stopped from plowing your cunt with his hardened member, deepening and hitting your most sensitive spot each time he penetrated you.

You can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown into the mattress.

“P-please,” you begged, doing whatever you could to reach back and holding onto him.

You could feel a thick slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you, ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. You can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him.

With each thrust, you can’t help but be reminded when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too.

“Love you,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, his arms forcing you up, back arching into a bow as he continuously fucked you. “You’re my perfect, perfect girl. Can you feel me?” he gathers your other hand, covering your lower stomach to push down for you to feel a hard lump that angrily moved inside you, “this is what you do to me?”

You nod between sharp gasps and he holds you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of his name, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face as you took his cock perfectly in.

His hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now still fucking you just as hard and deep, just before letting you both fall onto the mattress with his weight pressing you down. Despite this being the first time he’s fucked you, he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always did in his dreams. So he pushes a hand underneath, pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you clench on him harder as you cry out moans that sound so mellifluous to his ears.

Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and absorbed the pleasuring feeling of his member that was plowing your velvet walls. Your dulcet moans with the combination of his sexy grunts echoed through your shared room in overflowing titillation. You wanted nothing else for him to fill you up again, just like he did with your throat hours ago.

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me?

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “ ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

You know he is. It’s in the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. You push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. Your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him as he inhales sharply.

“I’m near,” he announced, spreading out your thighs with his knees, his balls slamming onto your buttocks as he has you pinned down from above, fucking you like his sex doll. He fucked at an animalistic speed, forcing you to grip his forearm as his force pushed you into his headrest — your body lower region feeling sore from the sheer amount he’s fucked you.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,“ he said it with a chuckle, his thrust unrelinquishing and you couldn’t help but absolutely adore just how he stared at you, held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And it only took a couple seconds for that softness to fade into lust as though the sex god in him manifested before you. “Feels. So. Fucking… Good!” His breathy grunts were released when his hips fell out of rhythm.

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and his cum fills you. It’s hot and thick, sticky with every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white.

You can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and drip along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “god—” he gasps, breathless as his face digs into the crook of your neck, hugging you with his weight pressed on top of you as his arms tremble.

Hot spurts of seed were shot straight to your womb, ensuring that every drop of his cum were loaded to your cervix. When he pulled out, you could feel his warm semen seeping out of your entrance because you were clenching naturally, twitching to keep his cum in. As you gasped for air, Satoru was very much proud knowing just how much he had cum inside of you.

Panting, “I love you,” he confessed, pecking your bruised lips.

Your mouth vibrated against his. “Mm— me too.” you tiredly responded back. Every inch of your body felt sore to even move.

It’s silent for a bit. Only the harsh, labored pants as you both tried to calm down and catch your breaths echoed in his bedroom. Satoru still had his nose buried against your neck, shifting his weight to the side as he slowly flipped you over on your back, hugging you tightly as your hands soon rubbed over his back tenderly.

You notice a indent on his left scapula, your fingers tracing the scar most likely caused from the impact of falling down the stairs years ago. You kissed his shoulder as you weaved your fingers through his sweaty scalp, confessing your love for the first time, “I love you.”

“Yea I know,” he grunted before lifting himself up to cage your head between his arms, his heavy body intimately pressed on top of your smaller frame, “You were obsessed with marrying me when you didn’t even have your front teeth —”

“Shut up,” you pinched his cheeks, getting an exaggerated ow! from your lover. “You never said no to my proposal, so you’re just as obsessed.”

“I never denied it,” his expression changes before he pressed his lips onto yours, deepening the kiss.

“Satoru.” his name breathlessly flowed out your lips, music to his ears from the years of his silent yearning for you to call him. “We need to shower, your sheets are dirty —”

“we need to clean up—” another kiss “— and oh god your couch —”

“just one more,” he insisted, his tongue making his way into your mouth.

Pushing him away, you’re met with an obviously offended look. “You have work tomorrow, and I have a night shift after work,”

“I’m rich, I have more than enough money for you to quit your jobs,” he obviously stated, “and that fucktard isn’t not your responsibility anymore. So look at me, take care of me, I’m needy and need your kisses now.” he tried pushing himself onto you.

But you press a hand to his mouth, blocking his lips from touching yours as he pouts against you, but he still presses himself closer thinking that’ll make you succumb to his desires.

“Nope.”

He grumbles, muffling something incoherent against your palm. You roll your eyes, amused at how you’ve come to love this manchild, moving your hand to cup his cheek as you stroke his lips with your thumb.

“If you’re good,” you press firmly on his bruised flesh, inciting a small painful flinch from your lover, “I’ll kiss you all you want if you do as I say.”

“No,” he moped, “you’d still kiss me when I’m bad, so what’s the point?”

“So you admit you’re bad,” you raise a brow, making him grin cheekily, “I thought you’d always listen and be good.”

“I can be,” he shrugs, “but fucking god I love it when you put me in my place.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you tiredly sighed, releasing control to give him what he wanted. It only makes him chuckle, leaning in again as his lips hover over yours, making you inhale sharply as you feel his breath fan over your mouth before kissing you for the millionth time. “Heh I’ll always win.”

With him kissing you, you’d think everything that had happened last night was nothing more than a fever dream. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal — like a glass menagerie teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now — to be loved by and to love him deeply. To forget about the rest of the damn world and its burdens by simply remaining in his arms, resting in his comfort as you stared at his beautiful face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

At that exact moment, as you moved together in perfect harmony, breathing each other’s air while being intimately held in each other’s arms, you felt his heartbeat radiating to your chest, beating oh so loudly as it healthily pumped blood to his body, signaling he was indeed alive. And it was in his presence alone, that he fills you with comfort.

And in that, with Gojo Satoru, you knew that you were finally home.

—

Hours later when you were asleep in his arms, Satoru receives a text.

From: Ijichi

Mr. Nakamura and Miwayaki-san have both been notified of their termination. Furthermore, as instructed, all and any neighboring companies would be promptly alerted if they ever submit their applications for a job. Miwayaki-san will have her apartment stripped from her, and all debts of Mr. Nakamura will be doubled to account for interest and all payments made on his behalf would be returned to the original payer.

author's note: wow... if you've read up to the end, I just want to say thank you for giving this a chance. I was hesitant on releasing this, especially with the wc being so long ... but if you've enjoyed it, then that's all that matters. have a good one (o˘◡˘o)

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

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that-sarcastic-writer · 1 month

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A Touch of Madness

Logan Howlett X girlfriend!reader

Summary: Logan comes to you after being away, and all he wants is your touch, and he knows just how to get on your good side. This is just porn without plot.

Takes place in the same universe as Too Sweet but can be read as standalone

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, couch sex, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, the claws make an appearance (I have a thing for his claws okay), Logan is obsessed with his girl, fluffy relationship, established relationship

WC: 3.9k

A/N: how did I make this longer than too sweet when it was supposed to be a Drabble. Hello idk how to write short shit. But like hello yall are so awesome? I appreciate all the love yall have given my first Logan fic. I also have an older Logan fic in the works but that one has plot so it’ll be a minute before its out. For now here this <3

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were driving him mad. It’s not like he deserved your anger. Not fully anyway. It wasn’t his fault he was gone this long. He had been thinking about you all week, about your soft lips, about the warmth of your thighs, about your sweet moans only for his ears to hear. And all he wanted was to pull you into his arms and take you, over and over, until you begged him to stop.

But no.

You were being childish. That’s what he called it anyway.

“Sweet girl,” he called after you, like a puppy following close behind you as you strided around your apartment. He knew you were doing it on purpose, the excuse of having to do chores so you could elongate his torture. The way you so innocently looked back at him made him clench his jaw. “C’mon.”

“Don’t sweet girl me, Logan. I told you, I’m busy.” You sassed him, huffing as you kept walking, finding the most insignificant of chores to waste your time with. He rolled his eyes at you, eyebrows furrowed into this perpetual gaze of annoyance.

The truth was, you were aching for him, your thighs warm and your skin tingling solely at the thought of him taking you to do as he pleased. But, if there was something in this world you could be, it was petty. And if you had to suffer a whole week without him, he could suffer for an hour, even if it was also at your expense. Truly, you almost enjoyed the annoyance in his face, the sharpness in his voice, him damn near groaning behind you every time you evaded him under the excuse of needing to get some dumb chore done.

“You’re killin’ me here, sugar.” He actually groaned this time, his jaw set. You stopped in your tracks and turned your head to look at him, shooting him a pointed look. “I said I was sorry.”

“Serves you right. And I don’t care if you’re sorry. You haven’t called me in a week.” Your words were sharp with bitterness and it dawned on him. That was why you were upset. A slight bit of humor tugged at the corner of his lips and he breathed out a laugh. You stared at him with blank eyes, you weren’t laughing.

“C’mon, is that seriously why you’re upset? You know I was out of the state.” He tried to reason with you. Charles had entrusted him and Storm with finding a certain mutant that was causing havoc, three states over. And Logan had very much underestimated how long this would take them. So here he was, after a whole week away, damn near begging you to let him touch you. “It wasn’t like I wanted to go anyway.”

No, he would much rather be with his sweet girl, one that was being particularly difficult and making him suffer when all he wanted to do was hold you, to feel the warmth of your soft skin.

He stepped into your personal space, his intoxicating scent almost making you give in. You counted to five in your head, eyes closed to remind yourself that you were, indeed, angry at him.

“So? You got a phone, don’t you? You could’ve called me.” You huffed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a small pout, Logan had to hold back the urge to laugh at you. “You can’t disappear for a week and expect to come here and do as you please.”

You shot him a sharp glare, he just stared at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden shot of confidence. His sweet girl was talking back to him? Giving him attitude? He tilted his head at you, almost as if to dare you to walk away from him.

There was a bit of malice in your eyes as you gave him one last look before you walked away, thinking of what other useless chore you could add to continue his torture. But Logan had other thoughts in his head. If you weren’t going to behave, he would happily put you in your place.

“Hey, c’mere or I’m gonna bring you here myself.” He called after you, the strings of his sanity hanging on by a thread, just waiting for you to tug at the last strand. He knew you too well. You turned your head, eyes big in feign innocence and you tilted your head at him in defiance.

“Make me then.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. In hindsight you should have known better, but you also wanted to see just what could happen if you pushed him hard enough. You saw the way his eyes flashed with malice, he stared you down, and in that moment you remembered just how small you were compared to him. “Oh fuck.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through you, but it wasn’t like you could go outrun him, especially not in your tiny apartment. He caught you, though he did purposely chase you into your living room, simply because he wanted to get you going, pumped with adrenaline. You squealed as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you against his chest. His sharp canines nipped at that one spot on your neck that had you whimpering.

“You goin’ somewhere, sugar?” He husked, his lips hot on your cheek. You couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, eyes closed. God, you missed him.

“Mhm, still mad at you.” You mumbled, barely hanging on to your silly grudge. A chuckle rumbled in Logan’s chest.

“That’s alright. I don’t need you to be happy with me to do what I want to do.” He inhaled, breathing your sweet scent, and he spoke as he threw you over his shoulder. “Just need you to look pretty while I do it.”

You weren’t complaining about your position, you were in fact, bursting into giggles as he effortlessly carried you to the couch, though your giggles turned into another squeal when he smacked his hand flat against your ass. Logan had a grin on his lips as he tossed you on the couch, wasting no time in spreading your legs apart to settle between them.

He leaned down, gripping the armrest above your head, caging you in as he leaned down. He brushed his nose against yours, sighing softly.

“Don’t be such a brat. Kiss me.” The words rumbled in his chest with a groan, his primal needs overcoming his senses. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You laced your fingers in his hair, pulling into a hard and heated kiss.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as he shrugged off his flannel, tossing it somewhere on the floor, his belt soon following the same fate. You tried to sit up against the armrest, but you quickly realized Logan had other plans deep in his perverted mind. With a hold of your ankle he dragged you down on the couch, your back flat on the surface as you looked up at him with big eyes.

“Stay just like that, pretty.” He spoke, pressing another heated kiss to your mouth before tugging off your sweatpants, followed by your panties. He tossed them somewhere over his shoulder, somewhere you would have to run around searching for later. But you couldn’t give a fuck about that. All you could focus on was the heat forming between your legs as Logan settled between them.

His eyes met with yours one last time before he was diving in between your warm thighs. His tongue licked long stripes from your hole up to your clit, circling around the sensitive nerve before going back down. Over and over until your soft gasps and sighs of pleasure turned into moans. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open to do as he pleased. One leg hung over the back of the couch and the other was thrown over his shoulder, and he effortlessly held you down as he shoved his tongue into your cunt. He was like an animal, insatiable as he took you on his tongue.

“Oh fuck. Shit—Logan—” Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as you whined. You gripped the back of the couch, soft twitches taking over you each time his nose brushed your clit.

It was no secret that Logan found pleasure in giving you yours, and he ate you like it. Grunts and hums rumbled in his chest as his tongue found your clit again, and he reveled in the particularly high pitched cry you let out when he slipped two fingers into your wet core.

“Needed to taste you so fuckin’ bad. I thought about it all week.” He spat into your clit, groaning at the way your tight walls squeezed his fingers. He could only imagine what you would do when it was his cock stretching your walls.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted, fingers lacing in his hair as he lapped at your clit. You wished you could hold your pleasure, rivet in it for just a little bit longer, but the way he curled his fingers against your most sensitive spot, the way his tongue was so relentless on your swollen clit, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my—”

Your words never left your throat, chest pounding with sheer adrenaline as your release coated his face and fingers. It was sudden, it left you breathless as your thighs twitched with aftershock. Your eyes were wide and glossy in shock as you shuddered with the remnants of your orgasm. It wasn’t until you pathetically attempted to drag yourself away that Logan stopped. You were shaking, gasping softly when he pulled his fingers from you, but you all but cried when he licked at your wet pussy, getting a taste of you.

“Logan, please I can’t—” Your voice was shaky as you tried to move away from his face, he chuckled at you, pressing his face against your inner thigh before he crawled up to your face.

“‘Is okay. You did good.” He kissed your lips, his large hands holding your face as he let you taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned, clenching around nothing already in anticipation of him filling you. “You wanna stop?”

“No, no, no! Need you, please!” You were quick to protest, wrapping your legs around his waist to prevent him from going anywhere. You couldn’t really stop him from doing anything, but he found it endearing that you tried. He bumped his nose against yours, lips pulled up into a tiny smile.

“Need me where, hm?” He opened his eyes to look at you, and truly how he didn’t bend you over the nearest flat surface the second he saw you was beyond his comprehension. You looked so perfect like this, underneath him, clinging to him. His sweet girl. He didn’t know what it was about you, but from the moment he met you he was done for. You drove him absolutely mad and now he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Inside me, Logan. Please.” You sighed out, face flushed with embarrassment. He smoothed out the frown lines on your forehead with a tiny kiss. A sweet gesture in comparison to what he was about to do to you.

In one swift motion he had you bent over the armrest, with your ass to him and your chest flat against the armrest. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip as you glanced over your shoulder to watch as he pulled off his white tank top. Your glazed eyes fawned over each perfect muscle in his body, taking particular interest in the veins that popped in his arm when he flexed them as he ridded himself of his jeans. How you ended up with a man so incredibly hot, you had no idea, but you were thanking the Gods for that.

“I need to be inside you, too.” He rasped into your ear, groaning in ecstasy as he sank himself into your needy cunt. Your jaw fell open he filled you, inch by inch. He pulled your t-shirt over your head, instantly attaching his lips to your shoulder as he rutted his hips against your ass.

His pace was grueling from the start, grip tight on your hips, sure to leave bruises in the morning. A little reminder of his intoxicating presence. You braced yourself on the armrest, sounds of pleasure leaving your lips almost instantly. He pressed his forehead against your cheek, the thick hairs on his chest leaving a tingling sensation across your back as he held you flush against his chest. Heavy breaths filled your ears as you so desperately reached to touch him, any of him. Your trembling fingers found the sound of his face and he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“This what you needed, hm? Maybe I should fuck sweet pussy more often? Give it more attention?” He grunted the words in your ears, lips pressed against your cheek as a sheen layer of sweat began to coat your soft skin. You whimpered and nodded weakly, your cunt clenching him with excitement. He smirked softly, his hand coming up to lace through your hair. “Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet girl?”

Logan held your face down as his hips drilled into you, each delicious drag of his cock bringing you closer and closer to your sweet release. God, you needed it. All you could do was moan in response.

“Y-yes! God, yes. Please Logan.” You whined out shamelessly, eyes rolled back into your head. Logan hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple, the gentle gesture ironic considering just what he was doing to you. He said nothing as he sneaked his free hand to the front of your body, rough fingers rubbing harsh circles on your sensitive clit. Your jaw fell open, your hand flying to grip his wrist. Your thighs clenched around his hand, whining as his cock brushed that one spot that had you seeing white. “Logan—”

Your voice was a warning, but he welcomed it. He flicked his wrist without mercy as he rolled his hips, his words only encouraging you to fall apart for him.

“Come for me, pretty girl. You can do that, can’t you? I know you want to.” He let go of your hair to turn your head to meet his eager lips. He happily swallowed the pathetic sounds that left your mouth as he flicked at your clit, his cock hitting so impossibly deep you were left trembling as your release seeped around him.

Logan held you down on his cock, his thumb playing with your clit until you were gasping and your nails dug into the skin of his wrist. He kissed along your jaw as his hips stilled for just a second, your body still shaking underneath him.

“You okay?” He asked softly, grabbing your face to look at him. You looked at him with hooded eyes and nodded weakly, barely lifting yourself off the couch.

“Yeah. ‘m okay.”

Logan tilted his head at you, an eyebrow raised with amusement as he leaned down to leave a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Perfect.”

He grabbed your hips, pulling out his cock to manhandle you onto your back before he was sinking himself into you again. Your slick walls welcomed him perfectly, like this was the only place he belonged, but he wasn’t complaining. If he could die, he would die happily buried deep in your cunt.

“Oh, God, Logan.” You gasped, thighs twitching as you looked down to find where his thick cock is filling you, splitting you open over and over. Your jaw fell open as you watched him grab one of your ankles and he held it up by his shoulder, spreading you open for him to dig himself deeper and deeper within you tight walls.

“Look at me, baby.” He groaned, chest heavy as a thin layer of sweat covered his muscled body. You did your best to comply, you looked up, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure as he damn near folded your body in half. Your knees were pressed against your chest as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “Yes, there she is. My pretty girl. I missed you.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, and also at the sting of his cock rapidly bringing you to your third release. The way he brought your legs to his shoulders, he sunk himself so deep within your walls you swore you felt him in your stomach. It felt so good you wanted to cry.

“Missed you too, Logan.” You brought your lips up to his, eyebrows furrowed into an expression of pure arousal as you gripped his hair, clinging to him for dear life.

Your release was quick and sudden, hitting you without a warning the second Logan pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. You were just so sensitive, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed. You clutched on to his large bicep as you spilled around his cock. The way your tight walls squeeze him made him groan, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on chasing his own release while fucking you through your own.

“Look at you, you’re just so good for me. Fuck it, I’ll just take you with me next time.” Groans fell freely from his soft lips as he braced himself on the back of the couch with one hand, and the other held the armrest above your head. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours as your sweet praises and chants of his name filled his ears.

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was animalistic, a deep growl as he coated your insides with his hot release. The metallic sound of sharp claws filled your ears once more as his claws unsheathed themselves from his knuckles, one on the back of the couch and the other just above your head, again. You gasped his name with a soft laugh, though you would be lying if you said it didn’t drive you feral when his claws accidentally came out. You brought a hand to his face as he pulled his claws out of your couch, the sharp metal once again hiding themselves within his knuckles with a sound. He held himself up on his forearm as his head fell to your neck.

“I’ll pay for it.” He muttered a chuckle into your neck, leaving a soft kiss to your jaw. You laughed, draping a hand over your forehead, breathing in deeply as you felt your mixed releases seep around his cock and drip onto the couch. He should just buy you a new couch, he thought.

“Wanna buy me a new body while you’re at it?” You teased him, already sensing you would have bruises and your thighs would ache for days.

“Did I hurt you?” Concern filled his voice as he lifted his head to scan your face for any discomfort as his hand came up to graze the thigh draped over his waist. You scrunched up your nose at him and shook your head.

“Of course not hun. Don’t be silly.” You traced your fingers over his face and gave him a lopsided smile.

“I did miss you, for the record.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too Logan.”

“Lemme clean you up sugar.” He sneaked a kiss to your cheek as he untangled himself from you, much to your protest.

You whined at the emptiness he left you as he stood up. Though you did quite enjoy the sight of his perfect ass he walked off to find something to clean his mess with. When he came back, he had a small towel and he cleaned you without protest, he left warm kisses on your face as you talked to him about your day. He ultimately tossed the towel aside and slipped on his boxers, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his still hard cock, but you needed a break. You didn’t let him leave though, reaching to grab his wrist with soft eyes

“Wanna watch a movie? I miss watching movies with you.” You mumbled, voice soft as you looked at him with pleading eyes. He laughed softly at you, you made it sound like you hadn’t seen him in a month.

But, how could he ever say no to his sweet girl?

“Mhm, put on somethin’ .” He gently moved you so that he was lying behind you on the couch, his big arms wrapped around you as he held you against his chest. Though you were still completely naked, you paid no mind to it. It actually felt kinda nice to be so close to him and feel the warmth of his body in such an intimate way.

He covered you both with the throw blanket you always kept over the couch for days exactly like this, for those days you wanted to feel warm and close with him on the couch. He ignored the three holes where stuffing was coming out of the ripped fabric as he pulled the soft blanket up to your chest and as you happily settled in his arms, clicking away at the TV. He would buy you a new couch, just as he bought you new pillows, and new blankets. And anything you asked him to, really.

Logan wasn’t used to domestic, the soft touches, cuddling, but he liked doing it with you. He craved it actually, probably just as much as he craved the sex.

“Next time you’re away that long, just give me a call? Please? So that I’m not worried sick thinking you died.” You finally said, the whole reason for such intense feelings merely an hour ago finally surfacing. He laughed softly at how ridiculous you sounded. He technically can’t die, he thought.

“I wouldn’t.. I can’t…Y’know what? You’re right. I’m still getting used to this whole having a girl thing. But I'll do better, yeah? Don’t need you to be mad, sugar.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, settling his face on your neck as he attempted to pay attention to whatever horror movie you decided to watch today. “But if you’re gonna let me fuck you like that when you’re mad, get mad more often.”

“Logan.” You scolded him, nudging his ribs softly as a warm blush coated your cheeks, knowing you wouldn’t hurt him, but it still made him chuckle.

He had to admit, he lasted way longer than he did last time. He lasted almost halfway through the movie before the feeling of his cock sitting hot and heavy in his boxers became apparent to him again. He inhaled your scent softly, his lips ghosting over your neck as he rolled his hips softly against your ass. And while you did try to protest, whining that you wanted to get through one movie with him, the sting of his cock was better than any movie in this world. The credits rolled, the soundtrack now drowned out by the sound of your sweet moans. Logan would be damned if he let you leave the warmth of his body for even just one second tonight. Or maybe ever.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #Logan Howlett smut #the Wolverine #Wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #Logan Howlett #Wolverine

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nezuscribe · 1 year

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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything.

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights.

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to.

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore.

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you.

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back.

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three.

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed.

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything.

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up.

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you.

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans.

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him.

not that it mattered now.

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip.

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry.

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away.

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else.

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left.

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer.

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up.

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity.

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from.

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples.

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone.

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged.

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies.

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle.

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak.

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife.

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long.

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say.

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you.

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it.

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features.

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show.

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk).

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.”

the truth.

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up.

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were.

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms.

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms.

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position.

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.”

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind.

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy.

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him.

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position.

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door.

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway.

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself.

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected.

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered.

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury.

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.”

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside.

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating.

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen.

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate.

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such?

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you.

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement.

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away.

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking.

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless.

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite.

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic.

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.”

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind.

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly.

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this.

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it.

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you.

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around.

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile.

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response.

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!”

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.”

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch.

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other.

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh.

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you.

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature.

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded.

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance.

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl.

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions.

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls.

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat.

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you.

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him.

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress.

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down.

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead.

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other.

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo.

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased.

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation.

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.”

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either.

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables.

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words.

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.”

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it.

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck.

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you.

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so.

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him.

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door.

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else.

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door.

you didn’t answer, still, waiting.

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door.

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit.

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table.

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing.

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day.

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy.

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time.

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned.

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down.

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks.

��you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet.

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you.

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis.

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders.

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing.

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window.

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw.

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance.

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her.

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had.

“are you alright?”

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being.

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either.

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly.

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you.

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.”

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you.

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.”

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable.

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three.

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure.

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back.

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man.

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint.

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks.

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.”

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self.

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you.

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint.

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw.

“what do you mean?”

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin.

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?”

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form.

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing.

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.”

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement.

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks.

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.”

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words.

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you.

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations.

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face, twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-”

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull.

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-”

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.”

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones.

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago.

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.”

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it.

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face.

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself.

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.”

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters.

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided.

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours.

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined.

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love.

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness.

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you.

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder.

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again.

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin.

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name.

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could.

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them.

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did.

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one.

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours.

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago.

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it.

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips.

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move.

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give.

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch.

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds.

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin.

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face.

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him.

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down.

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this.

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you.

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most.

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.”

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye.

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck.

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be.

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall.

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response.

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more.

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more.

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit.

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision.

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo.

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over.

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces.

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest.

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you.

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.”

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you.

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that.

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?”

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face.

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs.

“and then?”

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.”

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking.

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain.

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves.

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

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