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#it’s for sure one of the more painful ways to live!!! but it demands so much of her
kikyoupdates · 1 day
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For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒
various!jjk x f!reader
reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn
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You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.
prologue | story masterlist | next
When faced with the demands of the strongest sorcerer, your family can’t possibly protest. Well, not that they would have wanted to, anyway. They must be happy they don’t have to deal with you anymore. 
Out of sheer spite, your mother insisted you live with the rest of the clan and be forced into a life of cruelty and discrimination, but even she would never dare defy Gojo Satoru. Besides, her wish has already been fulfilled. You still won’t have a shot at a normal life. Even if you had been given the right to choose for yourself, now that you’ve met Satoru and discovered what world this is, there’s no way you would ever take the easy way out. 
For better or worse, you will be a jujutsu sorcerer. 
True to his word, Satoru was able to convince the Gojo Clan members to let you stay with them. You’re not sure exactly what he told them, but he may as well be their deity. Granted, he’s still only a kid, but in the grand scheme of things, bringing in a single girl to stay at the estate isn’t that big of a deal. It isn’t a difficult request to fulfill. Based on the way everyone turns up their noses at the sight of you, however, you can tell they aren’t too happy about it. 
“No one here will ever hurt you,” Satoru promises. He keeps glancing over at you every few seconds as he leads you through the grounds of the estate—which is massive, might you add. He’s a lot more attentive than you were expecting. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re a weak, helpless baby bird. Which you might as well be, in all fairness. 
You nod and smile brightly. “Okay. Thank you, Satoru. I’m really happy to be here.” 
“Are your injuries really painful?” he asks with a frown. “We don’t have anyone here that knows how to convert cursed energy into positive energy. But if I try asking, maybe they can reach out to another clan and bring someone over to heal you.” 
“You don’t need to go to the trouble. I’ll be okay.” 
Satoru watches as your grin somehow gets even wider, despite the fact that the bruised, swollen parts of your face must be aching uncontrollably. He’s not sure why you’re always smiling so much. It’s not like you ever had any reason to smile. Not with how horribly your family has always treated you. 
Then again, that’s exactly what drew him in. Your warm, sunny disposition, which is so starkly different from what he’s used to. Even if it doesn’t make much sense, a smile suits you. He likes seeing you smile. 
He’s already decided that he’s going to protect that smile of yours.
You’re given a nice place to stay. Satoru insisted that you live in the same building as him. It’s obvious that he wants to keep you nearby, in case anyone dares to try anything. Although you’re willing to bet that they won’t risk upsetting him. Not when he’s made it clear that you’re off-limits. 
It’s kind of crazy how much power and authority a literal child has. 
Gojo Satoru is in a class of his own. The details of his upbringing were never openly disclosed in the anime or manga, but you know for a fact that he didn’t have anyone he could truly call a close friend. Not until he met Suguru. 
You may be hopelessly weak for now, but if nothing else, you’ll make it so that he never has to feel lonely.
That night, you settle into your big, spacious room. You didn’t bring anything along with you for the move. It’s not like you had any personal belongings to speak of. Certainly nothing valuable, either. Your new room is a bit empty right now, save for a few decorations here and there, but you resolve to brighten it up and make it your own. All in due time. 
Before you tuck in for bed, Satoru stops by. 
“Hi,” he greets, poking his head into the room. “You don’t mind if I come in for a bit, right?” 
“Of course not,” you smile. “Go right ahead.” 
He nods and steps inside. There’s a clan member waiting by the doorway, and they flash you a brief glare before turning their back towards you and sliding the door shut. As expected, you’re far from popular. They probably think you’re just a hindrance, or maybe even a distraction. You’re not sure if they’ll ever change how they feel about you, but it’s definitely better than staying with your own family. 
Besides, as long as Satoru likes you, that’s more than enough. 
“Is this room okay?” he asks, kneeling down onto a cushion. “If you don’t like it, I can get you a different room instead.” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure. 
“Really? You can be honest. I can tell that you’re the kind of person to hide how you feel because you don’t want to upset anyone else. I already know your dad is the one who beat you, but it didn’t look like you were going to rat him out.” 
“I just didn’t want to stir up even more of a fuss. Besides, seeing other people get hurt won’t make me feel any better. I’m happy enough just to be here. Again, thank you, Satoru. For helping me.”
You sure like to thank him a lot. He’s not really used to being thanked—for anything, really. He’s being trained and brought up as the strongest sorcerer. It’s a given that he’s meant to save and protect those who are weaker than him. But you don’t take any of that for granted. You’re never shy about showing your appreciation. You want him to know how much every one of his gestures means to you. 
He likes that. He likes it a lot. 
“If it’s alright, I’m going to try and go to sleep now,” you say. “I’m pretty tired. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Oh. Did you want to spend the night in my room? Like a sleepover? Would you be allowed to do that?” 
Satoru blinks. The invitation catches him off guard, and he watches as you pat the spot beside you, on your futon, still smiling brightly. 
He turns away in a hurry, cheeks red. 
“I-It’s fine,” he stammers. “I should sleep in my own room. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It seems like you are, so… I’ll leave now. Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight,” you happily reply, but Satoru is already out the door, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. 
You giggle at the sight. He’s so adorable. You can’t even express how happy you are to be here. The future may look grim, but you’re determined to change it, no matter what it takes. 
That night, you dream of a world where Gojo Satoru is saved. 
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“Satoru. Here, try this. I made yummy rice balls for us to eat. There’s a secret ingredient inside. Can you guess what it is?” 
Satoru reaches out and takes a rice ball into his hands, furrowing his brows as he looks it over. As far as rice balls go, it looks pretty normal. It’s actually rolled up really neatly. He’s surprised you made this yourself. You did a pretty good job. 
“Secret ingredient, huh?” Satoru shrugs. “Sure, I’ll try it.” 
He takes a big bite, and although he’s not really sure what he was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this. 
“Gross!” he exclaims, immediately spitting it out of his mouth and onto the ground. He then proceeds to stare at the inside of the rice ball he just bit into. “Did you… you actually put chocolate inside of this? Disgusting! What’s wrong with you?!”
You frown. “What, you mean you don’t like it? I actually think it’s pretty good. I was sure this combination would be a hit.” 
Satoru watches, horrified, as you bite into your own rice ball, smiling all the while. There might actually be something wrong with you after all. He’s starting to realize that you’re slightly unhinged. 
“Remind me not to eat anything you make ever again,” he shudders. 
“I’ll pick something better next time, don’t worry. Oh! How about this? What do you think of rice balls stuffed with ice cream—” 
“No.”
This is what most of your days look like. It’s been just over a week since you arrived at the Gojo estate. Your injuries have almost fully healed. Also, you’re no longer required to do chores at virtually every waking moment, so whenever Satoru isn’t busy with training, you spend all of your time together.
Satoru has to do a lot of different things. It’s not just honing his jujutsu abilities, day in and day out. He isn’t allowed to slack off when it comes to academics, either. It’s clear that his family intends for him to be perfect in any way possible. They refuse to let him settle for anything other than the best. 
It’s a lot of pressure for a kid. Satoru makes it look easy, but nevertheless, you feel sorry for him. Which is why you always try to make sure that he’s having fun when he’s with you. You want him to have some semblance of a childhood, at the very least. 
Of course, you still can’t grant him the freedom you wish he had. It’s always inevitable that someone gets in the middle of your time together. 
“Master Satoru. It’s time for you to work on your studies.” 
One of his usual attendants comes to pick him up. Satoru clicks his tongue in visible annoyance, but as always, he doesn’t protest. He has a strong sense of duty and purpose. A determination to uphold his responsibilities as the strongest. 
Before he leaves, though, he turns back towards you. 
“I want [Name] to come with me today,” he says. “She can at least sit in the room while I’m doing my work, right?”
The attendant blinks. He’s bewildered, of course, and you’re not sure what else to do but bat your eyes at him with a bright, hopeful expression. You may be weak, but you’d like to think that you’re a pretty cute kid. It’s about time someone developed a soft spot for you. 
“She’ll distract you,” the attendant refuses. He narrows his eyes at you in frustration, so apparently, you’re not that cute.
Satoru pauses for a moment, then grabs you by the hand and pulls you close. 
“I want her there,” he insists, interlocking his fingers with yours. “She’s coming. I’ve already decided.” 
“Master Satoru, you can’t—” 
Too late. It seems like he’s in an awfully stubborn mood today, so for better or worse, you find yourself in the same room as him while he has his lesson. 
It’s a bit awkward. Satoru told you to sit right next to him the whole time, and although he doesn’t allow himself to get distracted, it still feels weird to be sitting in on a private lesson. While the teacher glares at you the whole time, no less. 
“Do you know what the answer to this question is?” the teacher asks, pointing to one of the questions in the textbook Satoru is learning from. 
Satoru chews on the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. “It’s… B. The answer is B.” 
“Sorry. I’m afraid that’s not correct,” the teacher says. She scribbles something down onto a piece of paper. “It’s alright. That was an exceptionally advanced question, so I can’t blame you for—” 
“It’s C.” 
To be honest, you didn’t mean to voice your thoughts aloud. It was a reflexive, absentminded remark. The answer was just so obvious that you ended up blurting it out. 
But now, both Satoru and the teacher are staring at you in bewilderment.
Satoru turns towards the teacher with a frown. “Is she right?” 
“...yes,” the teacher replies, looking somewhat reluctant to do so. “But it was a multiple choice question, so I’m sure it was just luck. Let’s move on to—” 
“[Name], what about the next one?” Satoru asks, pointing towards another spot on the page. “Try answering this one, too.” 
So, you do. You don’t just answer that question, but the next one, and the next one after it, and the next one after that, and so on and so forth. The teacher looks both amazed and horrified. Even Satoru can’t seem to hide how taken aback he is. They’re both staring at you like you’ve been hiding this incredible intelligence all along, when really, you’re kind of cheating. You died when you were sixteen years old. Satoru is incredibly smart for his age, but even taking that into account, your years of lived experience give you an obvious advantage. 
Still, you have to admit, it feels kind of nice. Finally being acknowledged for something, that is. 
Satoru’s lesson ends, and you can see the teacher whispering to the other Gojo Clan members about what just happened. Their eyes all widen in shock as they glance your way. They believe you’re ‘gifted’ all of a sudden, and while it doesn’t mean much for a jujutsu sorcerer, at least they might think a bit more highly of you from now on. Maybe they’ll finally approve of you being by Satoru’s side. 
“I didn’t know you were smart,” Satoru admits. “To be honest, up until now, I thought you were kind of dumb.”
“...oh.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” 
“Is there a good way to be dumb?” 
“I just meant that you seemed a bit dumb, because of how straightforward and simple you are. And you’re nice to everyone, no matter how badly they treat you. You’re easy to take advantage of, so… yeah. I thought you were dumb. Sorry.” 
Satoru chuckles sheepishly. You snort in response, amused by his uncharacteristic shyness. You suppose it doesn’t really matter whether people think you’re smart or not. From the moment you were born, it was clear that you would have to defy everyone’s expectations. You’re going to have to work harder than most in order to prove yourself. In order to have a chance at saving people.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Satoru remarks. 
“What thing?” 
“It’s a thing you do sometimes. You drift off, and even though you’re usually smiling all the time, your face will get all serious for a few moments.” 
“Oh. I guess I have a habit of getting lost in my thoughts. Sorry. I just really want to get stronger. I end up thinking about it a lot.” 
Satoru doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s strange that you’re so fixated on improving yourself. He’s the strongest, so of course, there’s a heavy burden upon his shoulders. He has to be the best. It’s both his birthright and his destiny. There’s simply no way around it. 
But as for you…
Come to think of it, do you actually need to become stronger? 
He’s already decided that he’s going to protect you. Even if he hasn’t known you for very long yet, he likes having you around. There’s no reason why he can’t look after you. It’d be nice if you got stronger too, he supposes, but it’s not like you’d ever be stronger than him. With him by your side, your future is already assured. 
Which is why it’s weird. There’s this urgency and desperation he senses from you, almost constantly. It’s not like your family is around anymore. And even if they ever tried to take you back, he wouldn’t let that happen. 
And yet, you’re still determined to become stronger. It’s almost like there’s something you’re not telling him. Something more than just a simple desire to prove yourself. 
…then again, maybe he’s reading into things too much. 
Word travels fast, and soon, pretty much everyone in the clan has discovered that you possess intellect far beyond what they imagined (not really, but whatever, you’ll take it). Satoru keeps insisting that you be allowed to sit in on his lessons from time to time. They reluctantly allow it, and sometimes, you even help answer some of the questions he has—instead of the teacher whose literal job it is to do so. She doesn’t seem to like you very much, unfortunately.
One night, as you’re preparing to go to bed, Satoru stops by your room again. 
He does this a lot. He usually makes a point of saying goodnight to you before he goes to sleep. It’s adorable, and it warms your heart to see that he’s starting to care for you so much. Sometimes, you still can’t believe this is the life you’re living. 
You were expecting him to poke his head into the room before exchanging a few words, as usual, but this time, he turns up with a futon of his own. 
“I’m sleeping here tonight,” he declares. 
You blink. “Oh. You got permission?” 
“Yes. They whined about it a lot, but I said I didn’t care. It’s not even a big deal. You said before we could have a sleepover, right? Unless… you changed your mind.” 
He averts his gaze, looking a bit bashful. Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll refuse. Although you’re not sure who in their right mind would turn away this adorable little sweetheart. 
“I definitely didn’t change my mind,” you grin. “I’m always happy to have a sleepover with you. We can stay up all night telling each other scary stories! I know a few really good ones.”
“Why would I be scared of some stupid stories?” Satoru brushes off. “I’ve already exorcized all kinds of cursed spirits. And none of those were scary, either. I’m too strong to have anything to be scared of.” 
“You’re just saying that because you haven’t heard them yet. You act tough now, but I bet you’ll be crying later.” 
Satoru rolls his eyes as he lays his futon down next to yours. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but once he’s lying down, facing you, and when he realizes just how close the two of you are… he’s embarrassed to admit that his heart starts beating a bit faster.
“If this is weird, I can leave,” he mumbles. 
“It’s not weird at all. Like I said, I’m happy you’re here. Ah. You’re not just trying to come up with excuses so you don’t have to hear my scary stories, right? I see right through you, Satoru. You’re not sneaky.” 
Satoru laughs. It’s a pleasant, melodic sound, and you hope you’ll be able to hear it more often from now on. 
Before you can start telling your stories—you really do have some good ones you’re excited to share—Satoru scoots in a bit closer, then gently places his hand down on top of yours. 
“It’s okay,” he says, and since you’re not sure what he’s referring to, you just frown. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re not strong, because I’m strong enough for the both of us. Before, I said I’d be your friend if you showed me how you planned on getting stronger, but… it’s fine. You don’t need to do that anymore. I’ll still be your friend. I don’t care if you’re weak or not. So, don’t worry about what anyone else says. I’ll stay with you no matter what.” 
Through the dark of night, you can’t tell, but he’s blushing profusely right now. He feels like he just said something really cheesy. But he’s not going to take it back. He doesn’t regret it. He means it wholeheartedly. 
You, his first ever friend, are irreplaceable. 
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More time passes, and as much as it pains you to admit, you still haven’t gotten any stronger. 
While Satoru is busy training, you do the same. You try your absolute hardest to make some kind of progress, and yet, the changes are minimal—if any. It’s as if your body simply isn’t cut out for this, which is a bitter irony. To think that you’ve been reincarnated into a world where you have the potential to do a lot of good and help a lot of people, but your weakness is holding you back. 
The knowledge you have is invaluable. You know that. Even if you’re not all-powerful, you still have the ability to make a difference. But this is Jujutsu Kaisen. A world in which death isn’t just possible; it’s more common than surviving. If you don’t have any way of protecting yourself and others, who’s to say you’ll even last long enough to save everyone? 
It hurts. You hate being weak. You hate that your efforts yield no results. Unlike in the real world, where people can usually make up for talent or skill through sheer dedication and hard work, here, your fate may as well be sealed. 
“Not like that,” Satoru says, shaking his head. “Do it like this.” 
He proceeds to give you yet another up close demonstration of his cursed energy at work. He flattens several pop cans in one fell swoop, while you’ve been struggling to do the same to a single one of them. 
You exhale tiredly. “Stop saying it like it’s second nature. You have better control of your cursed energy than anyone else. I can’t possibly compare.” 
“Well, I don’t really know how else to explain it,” he shrugs. 
Your shoulders slump. A while ago, you had your sixth birthday. Which means it’s been slightly more than a year since you’ve gone to live with the Gojo Clan. A whole year, and still, you’re as weak as ever. You know it’s still too early to give up, but it’s hard not to feel discouraged when you have Satoru by your side, and every day, you’re reminded of the fact that you’ll be helpless to change his fate if this continues. 
“You’re getting upset again. Even though I keep telling you that it’s okay if you don’t get stronger. You have me. You won’t ever need to be scared.” 
Satoru smiles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a loose hug. During your time together, he’s become a lot more cheerful and expressive, which is of course due to your influence. It makes you happy to see, and you’re overjoyed that he cares about you to this extent. If you didn’t know what the future holds in store, you would’ve been more than willing to sit back and let him protect you.
He doesn’t realize that he’s destined for an early death. He’s so sure of himself, so confident in his strength, that he doesn’t even consider it to be a possibility. Which is why you do need to become stronger. Even if he doesn’t understand why. 
You hug him back for a few moments, then pull away—much to Satoru’s disappointment. 
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To train some more. I already talked to one of the clan members earlier. They agreed to help teach me. Reluctantly, but still.” 
“But we’re supposed to be having a lesson together soon,” he says, making a point to pout at you. 
You smile weakly. “Sorry. I’ll be there next time. I just… can’t afford to slack off. If I keep working hard, then eventually, something will give.” 
Of course, as you expected, your supervised training session doesn’t go much better. You can see the clan member repeatedly rolling their eyes at your lack of talent. The only reason they’re helping you at all is because Satoru insisted they honor your requests. 
Once again, you’re left feeling hopeless and deflated. You wonder if you’ll ever see any improvement, or if you truly are beyond salvation. Destined to be so weak that you can’t protect a single person. 
Not even your dearest friend. 
You stare down at your feet, gaze glassy, and for a moment, it feels like you’re about to cry. Isn’t there anything you can do? Anything at all? Some kind of trick that will allow even a weakling like you to have a fighting chance?
Some kind of… trick? 
All of a sudden, your eyes widen. 
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Since meeting you, Satoru’s life has become a lot more fun.
He enjoys having you here. He never thought it would make that big of a difference, being able to spend time with a kid his own age. And not just any kid, but someone who’s taught him how to smile, laugh, and appreciate simple moments he used to take for granted before. He’s glad he made the decision to visit you again that fateful day. If he hadn’t done that, every day would still be just as monotonous and boring. Every day would be unbearably predictable. 
Satoru can never predict what you’re about to do next. It’s strange, because at first glance, you seem like a simpleton, but you always manage to find new ways to surprise him. 
Like right now, for instance. 
“[Name],” Satoru calls out. As always, he knows exactly where to find you. He can tell everyone’s cursed energy apart, and although yours is scarce, it easily stands out the most to him. It’s comforting and familiar. He’s fully committed it to memory by now, and if he wanted to, he could write a whole essay describing it. 
It doesn’t take long for Satoru to find you. For some reason, you’re standing in place and staring off into the distance with a vacant expression. You’re also holding something in your hand. Is that… a knife? 
“[Name],” Satoru repeats. He frowns as he steps closer to you. “What are you doing? What’s the knife for?”
You don’t respond at first, but then you turn towards him, in a rigid, unsettling manner. Your eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them before. Even your lips are slightly parted, as if something has you in awe.
“I understand now,” you mumble breathlessly. 
Whatever it is that you understand, Satoru definitely doesn’t. He’s unbelievably confused. And seriously, what’s with the knife? It’s starting to freak him out. 
Satoru knits his brows together. “What are you talking about? You’re being weird. Also, put the knife down before you end up hurting yourself.” 
“Okay. But first, let me show you something.”
You take a hurried step backwards. Satoru still doesn’t understand what’s going on. You’re never this cryptic. It’s throwing him off, and for some reason, he’s getting a bad feeling about all this. 
That bad feeling turns out to be right, because moments later, he watches as you drag the sharp end of the knife across your skin.
“Don’t—!”
Satoru cries out, but it’s already too late. There’s blood everywhere. It’s a deep gash. A serious injury. You’re wincing, looking lightheaded from the pain, as if you’re about to pass out any second. Satoru instinctively knows he has to get help, and yet, he’s too shocked to move. This has never happened before. He’s never watched someone get hurt in front of his eyes—someone he cares deeply about—and been helpless to do anything about it. He’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. A special, chosen existence. But right now, all of that feels pointless, because you’re in pain, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. 
“It’s okay,” you breathe out. “Just… watch.”
Satoru is about to cry out again, more desperately this time, but suddenly, he sees it. 
Your body is… healing?
It’s true. The gash on your arm, the one you just inflicted with the knife, has already fully healed. You pause for a moment, then wipe the blood off your skin, so that he can see more clearly. Sure enough, it’s gone. There’s no trace of the wound that was there a second ago. Almost as if what happened just now was a figment of his imagination.
“Reverse cursed technique,” Satoru mumbles in disbelief. “You… when did you learn how to do this? You never mentioned it before. And I didn’t notice any changes in the flow of your cursed energy, either.”
“I learned it just now.” 
“What?” 
“A few minutes ago. Before you came to find me. All of a sudden, I just knew how to do it. The knowledge appeared in my mind.” 
Satoru frowns. Something isn’t adding up. Converting cursed energy into positive energy is a very complex technique. Few individuals are actually able to pull it off. Even he doesn’t know how to heal himself. But such an ability was able to manifest in you? He supposes it’s not impossible, but given the nature of your cursed energy, and your overall lack of skill… it seems unlikely.
“I wanted to become stronger.” You pause for a moment, then shake your head. “Sorry. I needed to become stronger. So, I did. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but just now, I was able to confirm it.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I think you already suspect it. That I didn’t obtain this ability naturally. I was frustrated that nothing was working, no matter what I did. I just couldn’t seem to improve, regardless of how hard I trained. So, I… took a gamble. I made a Binding Vow.” 
Satoru blinks. “A self-imposed vow?” 
You nod enthusiastically, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Would someone really gain the ability to use positive energy through a simple vow like that? It’s the first Satoru’s ever heard of it. And since healing is a rare, valuable power, most people would love to get their hands on it. If it was that easy, surely everyone would opt to do it, one way or another.
Once again, Satoru has a bad feeling about this. 
“I already knew that by imposing restrictions on yourself, through a Binding Vow, it’s possible to increase your cursed energy and empower your technique,” you say. “I wasn’t sure if it would work for me. Converting cursed energy into positive energy is complicated, after all. I knew I had to make it a pretty serious restriction, in order to have any chance of succeeding. Even then, it still might not have worked.”
You pause yet again, while Satoru’s breath hitches in his throat, and the next second, you’re smiling brightly, like always. 
As you utter the most horrifying words Satoru has ever heard. 
“In exchange for gaining the ability to use reverse cursed technique, I’m never allowed to use my cursed energy to harm anyone else, whether it’s a human or a cursed spirit. And if by some chance I do… I’ll die. Instantly.”
Satoru’s jaw drops open.
“...what?!” 
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anthromimicry · 5 months
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okay, so i believe it's time to talk about what kind of powers misao possesses. let me start off by saying that she is by no means invincible and/or invulnerable: so, she can be defeated in combat, of course. i just wanted to affirm that with y'all because she does have an enhanced healing factor. but unlike a regenerative healing factor, which heals a lot of things pretty much automatically, it does still take a good amount of time for her to heal. i'd say it's just a bit faster than a human's ability to heal, and so she can not do things like regrow limbs / reattach her head.
BUT to counteract her lack of a more proficient healing ability... misao and all jorōgumo can produce very sharp, silk-like threads and manipulate them to their liking to attack other's + create constructs out of these silk threads that can be used as weapons. and thus, one could argue that she has a certain 'advantage' over humans since this is a long-range attack, which would mean only they would have to get closer to her in combat if they didn't have any long-range weapons themselves. being a spider in actuality, misao can also make webbing that comes from within her. also, because of her true nature as a spider, misao can control diminutive spiders or just regularly sized spiders at will.
another, and her last ability, is that she has venom available at her disposal much like a real spider that targets the central nervous system / is a potent neurotoxin ( in which she would transfer directly into someone through a bite ) buttt the thing is is that she will often not use this method of killing, and/or seriously harming someone because of how long it takes for her body to regenerate the venom. thus, most of the time, misao will only use it if she is in a very dire situation where she has to defend herself or someone she cares about.
and as a result, those who are in combat with her don't really have to worry about her using this ability unless she's genuinely on death's door or something of that nature. so yeah; i hoped this gave you all a little more insight as to what exactly she can do with her powers as a jorōgumo.
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coconutdays · 11 months
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going crazy
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s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous
w.c. 4.8k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!
your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?
you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 
although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 
but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.
there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 
your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 
so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.
it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 
you 
hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/
suguru
sure princess.  can i get a peek?
you
don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3
suguru
tease
any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 
and you were right.
when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 
you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.
he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 
“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 
his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”
“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.
his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”
“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice
“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”
“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it
suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”
“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly
“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”
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it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.
the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.
It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.
“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”
you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”
“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck
the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 
it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”
within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.
“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.
suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 
you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 
and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 
you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 
and other people think the same, he notes. 
he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.
“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little
it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.
“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”
“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.
fuck, you're beautiful.
speaking of before,
he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.
it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 
the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.
the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 
he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.
“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.
“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.
“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”
“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you
when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”
“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting
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and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.
he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.
he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.
and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 
all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.
“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.
and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”
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when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 
“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips
the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”
all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 
he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.
a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.
you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness
“so easy baby,��� he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards
“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions
“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”
“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”
he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 
“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in
your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.
suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”
the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.
he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”
he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.
“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now
and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”
“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.
he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”
and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.
you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.
“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine
“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action
suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”
“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you
“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 
“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”
his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.
he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”
as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.
you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.
“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.
the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 
you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.
and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.
“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up
a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you
“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”
the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.
“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”
all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.
“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in
It didn’t get him to stop at all.
“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.
tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 
you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 
you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.
it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.
“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.
that, and he started to speak up filthily.
“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”
scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”
“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”
“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 
“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”
the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.
“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 
his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.
so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 
“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations
suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 
the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.
the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.
both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 
his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”
his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”
suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."
11K notes · View notes
scap34 · 5 months
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sugar baby!toji x rich! dom! mean! sadistic! manipulative! male! Younger! sugar daddy!reader
Turning your contract fuck buddy into your sugar baby <3
warnings: degrading, cussing, fingering, mild daddy kink, slight feminization, lingerie
Toji was getting too close to you. 
Maybe it was how you fucked him. Your sadistic nature shining through when you edged him for hours and fucked him roughly after. Or the way you treated him. 
Of course you did treat him like he was yours. But you also pampered him, petted his head, and sang praises into his ears until he came. 
The more he was with you, the more spoiled and lazy he got. With you, all he had to think about was how to please you. Sometimes after you played with him for hours he’d forget everything, acting exactly like the brain dead cock whore you called him. 
The money with you was stable. You paid him well, too well maybe. You also covered all his expenses when you were together. When he was with you, he had no worries. 
But he couldn’t always be with you. 
“I quit.” He said suddenly to you. You and him were sitting on the couch. The tv was on, playing one of those ridiculous horse races Toji liked to gamble on. 
Your hands paused typing and you looked over at him. He looked back at you, seriously. His legs were up and he rested against the couch comfortably. 
He was fond of the couch, you knew that. That’s why you’d brought a new couch. It was just for him and you would even work next to him to make sure he had company. 
“You quit?” You repeated back confused. He nodded, uncharacteristically serious. You knew he could be serious but with you, his coldness fell away. You thought you were past this point already.
“Why?” You asked.
He shrugged. “I’m bored.” He wasn’t. You could tell. You could see it in the way his eyes flicked away guiltily. He drummed his finger against his thick thighs. 
Cute. What a liar your baby was. 
“Okay.” You said agreeing. He immediately looked at you surprised by your quick agreement. You forced your lips to not move, suppressing a smirk. 
You nodded at him, copying his seriousness. “I understand. You can move out whenever you are ready. I’ll send the last check as soon as you leave.” 
His mouth parted in surprise and the hurt in his eyes was hard to hide. It was adorable. He was the one who wanted to leave and yet he was hurt by your agreement? 
He slumped a bit and nodded looking downcast. “Okay.” 
Poor baby. You cooed in your head. You wanted to take him into your arms and kiss his head. You wanted to tell him that you never cared about him and see his reaction. 
“Okay.” You echoed pleased. You turned back to your computer, fingers resuming work.  
Toji wanted you to protest but you nonchalantly agreed to let him leave. He thought you’d put a bit of resistance against his decision. However despite your initial surprise you agreed so readily. 
Despite wanting to leave, he couldn’t help but regret his decision. 
Whatever. He would be fine. After all you were just a good fuck that paid him well. He was sure he’d find something else.  …
“Who was that slut?” He demanded. You gave him an unimpressed look. Both of you could hear the note of pain in his voice. 
It’s been days since he quit. Days since he’d seen you and now he finds you shopping for that slut with the black card you used on him? Did you move on that quick?
“He’s my sugar baby.” You replied calmly. 
Sugar baby?
You smirked at his confusion. “Yeah, it’s like the contract between us, but instead of paying him, he lives with me, sleeps with me and I take care of all his needs.”
You what?
He immediately glared at you. “Why did you pick that slut?” 
You moved closer to him. Inches away from him, he could smell your coconut shampoo. A dazed look crossed his eyes for a second. He missed your scent. 
Your lips tugged into a smirk, immediately noticing his reaction. “I thought he was cute.” 
Cute? He did look more feminine. Blond hair, soft features and doe eyes. Was he your type? Did you like that slut more than him?
“I thought he’d look really pretty dressed in lingerie.” You added thoughtfully, tapping a finger against your chin. 
He almost regretted not killing the slut when he saw him. He should have. Torn his limbs off and asked you how pretty the slut looked then. 
“No.” 
“No, what Toji? This isn’t your decision.” You grinned cruelly. Your words were targeted and made to hurt. 
He was sorry, okay? So stop being so cruel. 
“M’ sorry.” He mumbled out. His head was hanging low. His hands uselessly clenched into fists. He couldn’t brute force his way through his. 
“And what should I do about that?” You said smirking. Toji looked at you betrayed. Didn’t he already admit his mistake?
“Take me back.” He muttered under his breath. You smirked like that was what you expected him to say. 
“I have a few conditions.” He gulped at your words. Your tone sounded wrong and there was a cruel smile on your lips. But he knew he’d agree to anything you said. He needed you. He missed you. 
“You will be my sugar baby.”  …
You’re a manipulative piece of shit. Toji realized as he hissed. Hands desperately clutched the sheets, his face was burned with heat. His throbbing cock begged for attention, hitting his stomach each time you thrusted that damn toy in his ass. 
You had everything planned out didn’t you? You’d used that fucking blond slut to make him jealous. And now you had him exactly where you wanted him. 
Face down on your bed, hips raised up, exposing his hole, and all dolled up in red lingerie for you. Lingerie that he wore because you liked it when he was dressed all pretty for you.
He choked out another moan when you rubbed his cock, rubbing it slowly before you let go again. 
“F-fk yu, fuckin’ a-ah!” He slurred out, crying out as you shoved the toy further into his hole. His body trembled, his cock pathetically leaking drops of precum. 
“What were you saying slut?” Your voice stern laced with traces of amusement. A hand roughly smacked his ass, sending a jolt up his spine. 
His mind filled with pleasure as he let out a sob into the mattress, clenching the silk sheets with a white knuckled grip. His cock was so fucking hard. Everything you did to him only made him harder. 
He could barely think. The plug pressed against his prostate, driving him crazy. You were a sadistic bastard. 
Another slap to his ass knocked him out of his trance. This one was aimed a bit lower, right against the plug. He cried out louder, cock spurting out watery white cum. 
His knees gave out as soon as his third orgasm in 2 hours hit. 
Too blissed out, he didn’t notice when you pulled out the plug, and turned him around. 
He didn’t move, keeping his legs spread, eyes closed,and cheek pressed to the mattress. 
A second passed then another. You sighed and moved away from him. His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at you in confusion. His eyes went to your hard cock that strained against your zipper. 
He looked up at you, confused. You didn’t acknowledge him and used a few tissues to clean him up. Tossing them away you draped a blanket over him. 
This is what you did after you were done with him, and yet you still hadn’t come once. You were clearly still hard. Why weren’t you fucking him?
Was he really not enough for you? The thought was like a bucket of cold water that poured over him. The orgasmatic bliss he’d been floating in, disappeared, throwing him back to reality. 
He disappointed you. 
You were walking away from him. A whine left his throat before he could think. He got off the sofa, his legs weak but stable. 
“[Name],” he bit his lip. “D-daddy p-please.” He called out, a pink flush in his cheeks. You froze in your steps. 
You turned around slowly, your eyes drinking in Toji’s lingerie and disheveled state with clear arousal. You liked him dressed like this. He hesitantly reached up and pressed his bra clad pecs together. 
Your eyes immediately zoned into the movement. 
He was right. 
Ignoring the burning blush of embarrassment he played with his chest, that way he’d seen you do it to him. He squeezed them, and rolled his nipple between his thumb and index, moaning when it sent heat straight into his cock. 
You’d covered his cock with the lacy red panties after he finished. His hardening cock, bulging against the soft fabric. The friction only intensified his arousal.
He panted softly, his exposed skin flushed with humiliation. He must have looked pathetic, dressed up like a slut. The feminine lingerie that barely covered his body, clearly wasn’t made for him. But under your lust blown eyes, he felt so fucking wanted.
“Fuck me, daddy. I want your cum in me.” He whined looking up at you with half lidded lashes. Like expected you fell for it.
Your face split into a grin. Taking two strides forward you closed the distance between you and him. Your hands roamed across his chest, squeezing his tits and ass. 
“Gladly.” You purred, fingers slipping into Toji’s loose hole. He sucked in a breath, a moan slipping from his lips. He eagerly grinded down onto your fingers, like he was scared he wouldn’t please you.
You licked his neck and smiled where he couldn’t see it. Your sweet baby. So pretty, and ready to please. You didn’t feel bad about manipulating him.
Dolled up in lingerie, playing with his large tits, cheeks flushed with shame. He looked so fucking erotic. So willing to do whatever it took to make you happy. 
You turned him around, hands on his small waist. He gasped but easily spread his legs, bending over obediently. Your smirk grew, as you lined your cock up to his entrance, pushing in and bottoming out. 
Your baby cried out, still sensitive from his last orgasm. You pulled out and thrusted back in without mercy. The sound of skin hitting skin mixed with both of your moans. 
“My perfect slut. So fucking pretty. Gonna make you my cock whore.” You muttered thrusting into him. Toji, already fucked stupid, eagerly nodded along. His useless cock, spilling beads of cum. 
“Yes, yes, your slut. Want your cum. Please pl’se.” he slurred out, gasping when you buried you hand in his hair and yanked it roughly. Tears bit the corner of his eyes, his expression was aggrieved. 
You chuckled and rubbed the head of his cock in apology. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head, small whines, pleas falling from his pink lips. 
Who were you to deny your beautiful baby anything? 
You fucked into his tight ass, his greedy hole clinging to your cock as you pulled out even slightly. 
“P’ease plea-hic,” he sobbed. “M’ w’nna cum, please.” You thrusted into him harder, holding his waist. Your own orgasm building up. Your baby wanted you to use him, so you will.
When you finally cum, Toji collapses forward. His hole was leaking with cum, his body still trembling from his orgasm. 
You tucked your cock away, smiling when Toji’s eyes landed on your softened cock with delight. He was proud that he made you cum. A-fucking-dorable.
You couldn’t wait to spoil this man rotten. Your precious sugar baby.
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loveanddeepthroat · 1 month
Note
Hiii :3 not sure if you take requests for the other lads boys, but I love the way youu write and wondered if we could get some Zayne fluff 👉🏽👈🏽 Maybe like start of a relationship and mc gets her period unexpectedly when staying at his and gets super insecure about it and tries to go home but Zayne is concerned about her suddenly wanting to leave and finally gets the reason out of her, but he’s just super helpful and eases her worries. Thank you, love your blog!
The Bare Minimum
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Pairing - Zayne x f!MC
Summary - You feel as though your world is ending when a day dedicated to some much needed time with Zayne is ruined by Mother Nature. You're desperate to get home without him noticing, but he was more prepared for this than you expected.
Word Count - 2.7k
Warnings - Multiple mentions of periods and blood.
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You weren’t sure what was suddenly bothering you, but you were certain that it was catching Zayne’s attention.
It was one of those extremely rare occasions where both of you had a completely free weekend. No hunting, no surgeries, no plans.
Perfection. 
You were both at the very peak of your designated lazy Saturday—squished together on the recliner chair in his living room, eating takeout and watching the kind of TV shows that didn’t require too much attention. Between your impromptu make out sessions that consistently progressed into you straddling his legs, you weren’t even sure what was playing on the television. 
You were just happy to be with him in such an unusual setting for the both of you. A typical day where you were both blessed with synced schedules would be spent outdoors. Long, scenic walks. Trips to the library to pick up and return a few books. You dragging Zayne around the local mall against his will.
Neither of you were up for any of it this weekend. Your missions for the past few weeks had been exhausting, a few ending in swift trips to Akso for wounds that had looked worse than they had felt. Between Zayne’s concern for you and the demanding nature of his own job, he was feeling rather exhausted, too. He didn’t often indulge in lazy days, but you were pretty sure he just wanted to keep you cocooned in the safety of his home after seeing you injured one too many times.
After your fifth rather raunchy performance on his lap, you were feeling oddly uncomfortable. You put it down to aches and pains due to the exertion of your body recently, but even as you settled back beside him again, tucked under his heavy arm, you could feel the sensation creeping down your thighs and across your back.
It couldn’t possibly be that dreaded time of the month. You had another five days to go before you had to come up with reasons to not stay at his place for a week. Your relationship was still fresh and new, so you weren’t comfortable with the idea of being on your period whilst staying the night. There wasn’t a clear reason why you’d be so conscious about it, it wasn’t as if Zayne would chastise you for your womanly troubles.
For you though, it just felt a little too nerve wracking. Discarding sanitary products in his bathroom wastebasket. The possibility of leaking whilst you’re blissfully unaware in the land of sleep. And the most horrifying of all;
Your cramps.
Mother Nature was never kind to you in the first 24 hours of your cycle. There were many a day and night where you couldn’t unfurl yourself from the foetal position you would so quickly find yourself in. Mood swings, hot flushes, and an need for all things sugary and sweet.
Zayne didn’t need to see that side of you yet. The poor man would wonder where the hell his girlfriend had disappeared to, and why there was an emotional, writhing mess clutching a XXL tub of mint chocolate chip to her chest in her place.
As the minutes went by, you felt all of the familiar warning signs. His arm around you had been soothing and sweet all day, but was starting to feel like a furnace on your skin. The unmistakable feeling of the devil himself twisting your uterus with his bare hands was becoming stronger, and your squirming was drawing attention.
“Would you like me to move?” Zayne finally asked, brows slightly furrowed in your direction.
You had to get away from him. More so, you had to get off of the recliner, worried that if you were bleeding, you might have bled through to it.
Shaking your head quickly, you pulled yourself up to your feet, subtly eyeing the thankfully pristine spot where your ass had been perched all day. “No, of course not,” you reassured with a synthetic smile. “Just have to use the bathroom.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly hurried away before he had the chance. There was no time to waste.
As soon as the lock on the bathroom door clicked, you rushed to check yourself. The sight of fresh blood on the stark white toilet paper made you want to cry immediately. Of all the times for you to get your period five days early, it had to be whilst you were at Zayne’s.
You were at a complete loss on what you could do. You didn’t have any sanitary towels to hand, and your light grey sweatpants had succumbed to a slight stain that he may have already seen.
If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole, it’d be a miracle.
Silent panic turned to tears of frustration. All you could do was wrap a wad of toilet paper around itself to act as a makeshift pad, and steer clear of Zayne. Thankfully, you hadn’t yet unpacked the gym bag you brought for the weekend, so swiftly grabbing it and legging it back to your own apartment should be easy enough.
You cleaned yourself up as best as you could and flushed away all evidence of your period, trying to compose yourself whilst you did. The sheer level of agony your cramps were already bestowing upon you had you almost doubling over at the sink as you splashed some cold water onto your face to rid yourself of your tears.
This had to be a nightmare.
A gentle tapping on the bathroom door almost startled a small scream out of you. Zayne’s soothing voice sounded from the hallway, “everything alright in there?”
Things were getting worse and worse by the damn minute. You couldn’t possibly get by him to retrieve your bag without him seeing your ridiculous tears and the evident pain you were in.
“Yeah,” you called out, your shaky voice betraying you.
He remained silent for a moment, clearly not convinced in the slightest. “What’s the matter?”
You weren’t getting away from this. He knew something was up, and he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence. It wasn’t in his nature to just feign ignorance, especially when it came to your health or comfort.
“Nothing,” you called out again, hoping to whichever god was listening that he would just accept your answer.
Another bout of silence hung in the air, like he was trying to figure you out through a closed door. You were beginning to feel like a cornered animal, desperate for a route of escape.
You waited and waited for him to say something else, but you heard absolutely nothing. A small sigh of relief escaped you as you quietly opened the door, only to find him still standing there. You quickly tried to shut it again, but his foot took place in the small gap to stop you.
Not wanting to jam his foot, you gave up, folding your arms around yourself as if they were going to hide you. “I need to go home,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze.
He nudged the door open with his socked foot, still saying nothing. You could feel him analysing you from head to toe. 
He was such a bloody doctor sometimes.
Eventually, he folded his own arms across his chest. “Why do you want to go home?”
“Need to go home,” you corrected, not wanting him to think that you didn’t want to spend the night with him. “I…I have to—”
He cut you off with an outstretched hand, waiting expectantly for you to take it. All you did was stare at it, confused by his intentions. 
Well, you also winced as Mother Nature gave you a swift boot to the abdomen.
“Can you come with me for a moment?” He asked in that gentle tone of his, eyes softening. “Please?”
You took his large hand with a small sigh, not seeing any other way out of this situation. Heat pooled in your cheeks in your sheer embarrassment. 
This wasn’t how your weekend together was supposed to go.
Zayne led you into the bedroom, letting go of your hand once you were both inside. Panic flashed in your mind as you couldn’t think of any reason why he would bring you into the bedroom.
“I really can’t—”
He turned away before you could finish your sentence, heading into the en-suite bathroom and reappearing with a small wicker basket.
You almost gasped at its contents as he approached you again.
Pads and tampons of every shape and size were nestled within, along with painkillers and heating pads for your back. You eyed multipacks of brand new, comfortable underwear in there, too, and some small plastic bags to dispose of your sanitary products.
You weren’t sure if it was just the beginnings of your expected emotional rollercoaster, or the innocent way he was holding it out to you, but you burst into very pathetic, blubbering tears. 
He quickly placed the basket down on the bed, holding your waist with his hands. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, did I get the wrong—”
You quickly shook your head, dragging your forearm across your eyes to diminish your tears. “No. No, I’m sorry,” you reassured him. “I’m sorry. I just—did you buy all of that?”
“I did,” he said quietly, looking a tad bit sheepish. “I didn’t know which ones would be best for you, so I asked a female assistant—”
“You asked someone?” You were in disbelief. He’d gone to the store, looked like a lost sheep in the sanitary products aisle, and asked a clerk to help choose some options for you.
“I realise now that I should’ve asked you, instead.”
You shook your head again. “No, I’m not chastising you, Zayne. I’m…I’m hugely impressed—in awe, in fact.”
Zayne frowned at you, evidently puzzled. “Impressed? Is this not what a boyfriend typically does? I didn’t do anything special.”
Little did he know, he actually had. 
You were certain that you weren’t the only woman on the planet who had previously been made to feel inferior or shamed by others in regards to your period. 
There were so many instances where men—and even the occasional woman had mentioned it as a way of insult. Must be her time of the month. Time for someone to change their tampon. 
Once, you had accidentally pulled a pad out of your bag instead of your notepad in the middle headquarters, and every last one of your male colleagues avoided you for the remainder of the week. It was as if you were infected with a disease that would kill them.
Finding yourself standing before the exception was a shock to your system. A good shock. 
A real gentleman. 
You felt your eyes well up again. Tears of fear and worry had become tears of contentment. Finally, for once in your life, you were comfortable in the presence of a man during your cycle.
“I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed here whenever you stay,” he explained further.
“I love you,” you simply whispered back, a small smile curling your lips.
He still looked thoroughly perplexed at your reaction, like this shouldn’t have been something that was happening to you for the first time. Like every other man you’d ever come across will have treated you the way he has.
“I love you, too,” he said, cupping your face with his large, gentle hand. “Were you really going to leave?”
You nodded guiltily, feeling a little silly about your initial freak out. Something had been healed within your soul by his nonexistent judgement of your cycle, and even if he didn’t understand it, you were so very lucky and grateful to have a man like him.
He brushed away some of the damp streaks on your cheek with his thumb. “I don’t want you to go, but if you want to—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good. We have more episodes of Love Hospital to watch.”
“I thought we were watching Police Passion?”
He blew out a short laugh before dropping a tender kiss to your smiling lips. It made your heart feel warm and full, a feeling you never wanted to let go of.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said before taking his leave.
You took the wicker basket of supplies into the en-suite, the smile on your face not wavering as you studied it. He’d even put a rather pricey bottle of body wash in there for you, the description on the label claiming that its contents would soothe and relax you with scents of chamomile and jasmine. 
Everything was so tidily placed inside, a true reflection on how much he actually cared about your needs. Even a single incorrect pack of sanitary towels kept somewhere in the bathroom would have been enough for you to know that you didn’t need to be uncomfortable with him, but he’d made an effort. 
A serious effort that he saw as the bare minimum.
After picking out the best suited candidate in the sea of pads and tampons, you got yourself showered and sorted into fresh pyjamas from your bag. The cramping in your stomach started to bother you as soon as you finished getting changed, so you fished around in the basket for the unopened box of ibuprofen and a heating pad for the seizing muscles in your back.
Once you’d emerged from the bedroom, Zayne was nowhere to be seen in the living room. The area around the recliner you had both been lounging in all day was cleared and tidy, not an empty takeout carton or half drunk cup of tea in sight.
Making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found him steeping a mug of raspberry leaf tea to aid your cramping. You quietly grabbed a clean glass to fill with water, popping two capsules of ibuprofen into your hand to take.
Zayne glanced at the clock to memorise what time you were taking this dose, in case you required another later on. “How are you feeling?”
You smiled softly at him. Despite the storm of misery striking through your body, you still had a reason to smile.
“Happy,” you murmured sincerely. “Despite the devil himself tearing away at my insides.”
He offered a small smile of sympathy back, pulling the sopping teabag out of your mug of tea to discard it. “Do you need anything else? I can go out if there’s anything you want,” he offered sincerely, not at all troubled by the idea of you needing anything more from him.
Good lord did you love this man.
“Just you, please,” you requested, wanting nothing more than to just cuddle back up with him until the painkillers kicked in.
He obliged your request immediately, picking up the steaming mug of tea with one hand and slipping your hand into the other to lead you back out to the recliner. Before you could seat yourself in the little gap beside him, he gently pulled you onto his lap.
You couldn’t help the little flash of panic that shot through you at the thought of sitting on him during your period, but he clearly didn’t care. His hands just got straight to work with the heating pad, placing it where you needed it the most.
The rest of the evening was spent with Zayne giving you some luxuriously soothing back rubs to ease the pain—which had quickly been alleviated thanks to the ibuprofen and tea—followed by your regularly scheduled make out sessions whenever his hands started to wander. There wasn’t an ounce of bother in him whenever he turned you to straddle his lap, his all time favourite place to have you. 
He wasn’t bothered by anything when it came to taking care of you.
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A/N: Thank you so much for sending in a request, anon! I adore Zayne so it was nice to have a prompt for my first oneshot for him. 🩵
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kaybaeisgay · 1 year
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no but really let’s talk about the dynamic between the older gen spideys vs young gen spideys for a moment, because it’s really got me fucked up.
miguel and all the older gen spideys seem so entirely accepting of all these “canon compliant” rules, because those rules absolutely validate the trauma that every one of them has gone through. the idea of “oh our pain had a reason, oh our heartbreak was for something after all” is a VERY powerful notion that—understandably—they welcome with open arms because they have already lived it.
but the younger gen spideys…. yes, most of them have bought into miguel’s logic for most of the movie, because of course you’re going to listen to the 1,000,000 adults all telling you the same thing when you’re fucking fifteen and desperate for any semblance of mentorship. and it sure does make a lot more sense when you yourself have also experienced a similar trauma to all the others.
but that’s exactly it, isn’t it? they’ve all experienced the same trauma—
that miles and pav have not.
so, no. actually, fuck your rules. and really, fuck your demands that i must suffer what you suffered just because you cannot accept me without it. and good on miles for saying it—good for all of the spideys who realized he was right—realized he was asking all the right questions instead of drawing all the wrong conclusions.
(yet. for all my anger i feel towards the older gen for pressuring him in that way….i also understand why they cling so desperately to these stupid “canon” rules. because, if miles can manage to resist it—if he or gwen or pav can escape what they never could—then suddenly, they have to ask the question of:
“what didn’t i do right?”
and
“was all that pain really for nothing?”
and accepting your life after having to ask those questions instantly becomes much more difficult.)
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crypticminx · 9 months
Note
I need rough sex Felix (maybe with a breeding link?!) but then he’s sweet and caring after :)
Ughhh you got it angel!! Ask and u shall receive <3 I’m not sure if I got the sweet and caring part nailed but :0
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Thunderous sounds of music blared throughout the festively decorated home, causing chaos between the shared drinks amongst all the happy partygoers. One could only hope they don’t wake up with painful headaches and sore ears, but that seemed like a tomorrow problem.
Catton house parties taken place at the luxurious castle were no disappointment and lived up to be the most thrilling event of year.
However, there was a certain host who was missing in action.
Bathroom door locked and shut to its full extent, Felix blocked out any sort of comotion happening outside as his full attention was laid on you. There were a few aggressive knocks followed by shouting for whoever was in there to hurry up, but the two of you didn’t care. If someone wanted to hurl the alcohol that didn’t sit well with their foolish decisions, they would have to resort to another option.
You looked far too delicious for him to carry you all the way up the long, dwelling staircase that lead to his bedroom—resulting in some quick action and a subtle drag into a nearby bathroom. It wasn’t the picture perfect scene for a quickie, empty beer bottles messily scattred on the countertop and white traces of powder on the sink, but you both worked with what you were given.
“Jesus,” he quietly moaned, loud enough for you to hear with all the chaotic noise. Forcefully pulling your head back to where his lips were waiting for another passionate kiss. His tongue collided with yours as the two of you became inseparable of unlocking your driven stamina. He could still smell the faint scent of your floral perfume, and with no shame, he moved his salivating lips onto your neck. Marking it with as many love bites possible, hoping they would show in full force tomorrow as a result of what the two of you got up to.
“Dress,” his voice was muffled from the contact that was his mouth with your neck, “off, now.”
He demanded with such assertiveness, you could feel your tiny thong growing wet with delight.
“Yes sir,” you bit your lip, knowing that your once neatly applied lipstick was all smeared because of his doing.
His hands fumbled as they undid the sheer dress he picked out for you, pulling it with as much care possible, trying not to ruin or strain it. If it was his way, he would rip it to shreds till you’d be naked.
“And these,” he trailed slowly to your thong, “though they’re so sexy, they’ve got to go, darling.”
He was so impatient—frantic even, not fully undressing himself. Only undoing his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers in unison, his long hard cock fully on display. Aching to go inside of you with full force.
He lifted your naked body onto the sink, letting you sit with your legs spread out. He eagerly thrusted into you, hearing you let out your first of many whimpering moans, the ones that made him never want to stop.
“Felix,” you tried not to melt as he inched his way further, toes curling as your legs wrapped around his legs that stood on the ground. You pulled him closer, digging your nails slightly into his back as your signal for wanting him to not hold back.
Lustful groans erupted from his hoarse voice, his cock twitching to no end once he felt your warm inner walls start to become more wet. He forced you deep into the crook of his neck, as you felt the heat from the exposed parts of his body latch onto yours, a warm sensation. You rode his dick to the best of your ability while sitting on the cold sink, breasts bouncing up and down in perfect harmony.
However, he was the one in charge.
In between pants, he huffed, “look s’fuckin beautiful tonight, baby.” Loving every moment that he embraced your pussy practically sucking on his gliding cock.
You inched yourself away from hiding in his chest, wanting to see his sweaty face as he made fiery love to you.
“But you’d look so much better if I filled you up..”
You clenched harder, finding it hard to speak when he knew what he was doing to you. You were on the brink of an orgasm, feeling shockwaves of pleasurable vibrations as his erection grew mad with every pounce.
“Gonna cum in me,” you dangerously teased to the best of your abilities.
And with using your pretty hypnotic voice, something in him snapped—and for a better word, released his senses to heatedly turn more rough. Dying to not let a single drop go to waste inside of you.
Roughly grabbing your hair with his fingers as you felt your head pour into a different direction. He yanked you to no avail, all with a devilish smile.
“M’gonna fill you up so good, princess,” he breathed. “So good that next time everyone here sees you, you’ll be pregnant with my baby.”
“Please,” you blurted out, begging for him to cum in you, while internally you failed to let yourself hold back. Coating his cock, which was still deeply in the depths of you, with your orgasm.
It was sinful the way he seductively declared what he wanted to do to you, but you pleasured every heated moment of it.
Heavily breathing while he waited, Felix couldn’t stand another second more, he jerked himself into you one last time, filling you up with all his delectable cum in a matter of seconds.
You both savoured the feeling of getting each other off before the haze of needy desire wore off. Love, however, was still in the air. He swung a towel off the hanger, cleaning you up first, making sure you weren’t stained with something somebody else need to see.
He was slow and patient while stroking your thighs with the fabric. when you finally made your way out of your position from sitting, he lovingly grabbed you, kissing the top of your head as he took you in.
Noticing that your dress and other belongings were still placed on the floor, Felix bent down, breaking free from your embrace to pick them up.
“Wouldn’t want anyone to see you with out this, hmmm,” he beamed, eyes twinkling as he helped you in dressing yourself.
Though you always had the most mind blowing sex, you felt tonight it was somehow cut short.
“Maybe I can take it off later again?” You purred, seeing his face grow wide with plenty of ideas.
He caressed your face, fingers gliding on your red, sweaty cheek that still made you look as beautiful as ever.
“Oh,” he paused for a mere second, “I’m not gonna stop till you’re actually pregnant.”
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toovaeloe · 2 months
Text
awkward | “I don’t want to forget.”
mdni
satoru gojo x genderneutral reader
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in which you accidentally fucked your friend and now he doesn’t want to go back to being just friends.
☁️🎀☁️
Yeah…
So that definitely was not supposed to happen.
Satoru couldn’t say when it happened, how it happened, or what exactly happened….
Except he could.
He remembered everything, in extremely vivid detail for that matter.
Every word you said over drinks at that bar counter. Drinks that neither of you even finished. Every casual touch that seemed to linger longer than the last. Every laugh and snort and wheeze you shared stumbling out of the place. Not as much of an effect of the alcohol as it was the two of you shooting brazen, flirtatious retorts back and forth, one after another. Practically hanging off of each other, hunched over in your loopy hysterics. Cackling as you fumbled to his car like newborn giraffes.
He recounted the way you slouched sideways over the center console on the drive to your home. The way you traced distracting patterns against his clothes. The curve of your cheeky smile at the way it made his muscles tense that he could see out of the corner of his eye.
And then he was at your door; making sure you got in safe. That should’ve been the end of that night.
But it wasn’t.
Nor did it end when your lips met his in your doorway, or when he reciprocated just as eagerly— if not more. Waltzing past the door’s threshold, his large palms caressing up and down your sides; smoothly gliding down your lower back and squeezing handfuls of your ass.
He really should’ve pulled away right there; said something, anything besides the filthy confessions he had been whispering against your neck. Ones that turned to promises when he sealed them against your skin in a trail of hot, wanton open mouthed kisses.
Fuck, he remembered everything.
The softness of your skin as he kneaded every squishy, sensitive part of your body he could get his hands on. The way a shiver ran through you every time his fingers angled just so his nails barely grazed you. Every gasp and moan and plead of his name was permanently burned into his memory.
One thing he couldn’t recall was the hazy, love-struck look in your lidded eyes that night; and he swears no one’s ever looked at him like that before. He couldn’t, because you technically can’t really think back on what you don’t stop thinking about.
And he hadn’t stopped thinking about it— not since he saw it, and not even as he got up and left before morning. He didn’t even say “bye”.
That was an asshole move. He knew it was an immature, asshole move. He just couldn’t stop himself from spiraling; worrying about what he would do or say when you awoke; how this would affect your friendship…were you even still friends after this?
It didn’t feel like it. Time was passing; a few days, and everything was strained. An odd barrier of discomfort and dry texts between the two of you that wasn’t there before.
He felt crushed, guilty, angry at himself; the kind of frustration that had him flopping onto his bed everyday after work and screaming into his pillow.
So imagine the hopefulness he felt when you messaged him; suggesting him to meet at your place to talk.
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“Just forget it happened.”
“…What??”
But now he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I think we should just…y’know,” You struggled to articulate; lip catching between your teeth and hands nervously twisting and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Sweet Jesus, this was such a painful conversation. “try and not think about it.”
He was sitting on the sofa across from your armchair in your living room, gawking at you for a long moment that felt frozen in time.
You were sitting there, asking him to forget. everything that had happened?? He understood why; you wanted to salvage the platonic relationship between the two of you. Still, he couldn’t comprehend such an impossible demand. Even though he knew it was partly his own fault for abandoning you wordlessly in the night, it still made his heart twist uncomfortably in his chest. He couldn’t. He wouldn't.
Satoru was finally able to pick his jaw up off the floor during the long silence that had stretched between the two of you. Thick with awkward tension. And then his body was moving before he could think; pushing himself off the couch and crossing towards you with purposeful steps.
“I can’t,”
He practically forced out, the vulnerability feeling so foreign that he had to swallow the lump in his throat that seemed to be plugging up his words. His hands landed on the armrest on either side of you, caging you in against the upholstery. At this proximity, you could clearly see the way his frosty brows creased together through his bangs, the way his pink lips pressed together an uneven line.
“I don’t want to forget.”
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a/n: more drabble bc im still trying to get more comfortable with posting my writing on tumblr😚
l 🤍 u MWAHMWAH
allusion to “awkward” by sza
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poppy-metal · 3 months
Note
baby daddy older art…. after his divorce he went on a wild night out, and slept with thing young hot thing he picked up at a bar. it was supposed to be a one night stand, but you get PREGNANT, and now sexy man has to be in your life FOREVER. begs you to keep it even though you’re young and have your life ahead of you, and if you do he will make sure you live in luxury for the rest of your life. you were going to keep it anyway, but his promise makes it so much easier. hes coming to every doctors appointment, he makes you put his number on speed dial, he brings you anything you ask, because you’re carrying his child. decided it’s easier if he lives with you, because he’s seen your apartment and he doesn’t want you or his kid living in such a place, and then he can be available at all hours of the day. he’s so good to you, so kind and sweet and good and he doesn’t have to do this at all, you can help but fall in love with him. but he doesn’t feel the same. it’s a strictly mother of his child relationship. he is very blatant about that. no blurring of boundaries, you are the mother of his child and that’s all. it’s purely practical why he lives with you, because if you’re both ok with it it’s best for the baby to have both parents. that’s all you think it is. you keep your love inside, because he’s such a good man, and to even be around him is a gift. he’s given you more than you could ever hope for, it would be selfish to demand feelings too. that’s what makes him so wonderful, he’s doing this all for a girl he doesn’t even love. and his child, yes, but richer men have done less for their children and the mothers of their children. little do you know, he has to prevent himself from touching you constantly, because you’re a young girl he’s gotten in trouble and he would be the worst man in the world if he also made you think you had to put out to stay with him. no, he had done enough. all he could do now was to provide for you and your child. until………
save me responsible art who accidentally knocked me up save me,,,,,, okay but imagine you're a few months into the pregnancy - you have a prominent bump now and parts of you are getting more and more tender and achey. your breasts for one, have gotten alot more sensitive. 
you're in a mood over it - not snappy but just noticeably uncomfortable. when art comes over to stock your fridge like he's been doing, you're in nothing but an oversized shirt and some tiny sleep shorts. art already has his heart beating fast, pumping in his chest. he tries to stay respectful, notices how you're nit wearing a bra and feels his cock twitch. he thinks to ask you about what's got you looking so blue as a way to distract him from your body but it ends up doing the opposite.
“my chest.” you tell him, frowning. his eyes are drawn down despite himself. “pregnancy body I guess, they're just really tender and like… stiff.” 
your nipples are certainly stiff, art thinks. swallows. concern nips at him. he knows it's unavoidable, but he doesn't want you in pain. 
“are they hurting you?” 
you nod, reaching up to cup them yourself and art tries not to choke on air. you wince. 
“its like a sore muscle or something. squeezing them feels good but I feel like I don't have a good enough grip.” you flush when you realize you're essentially fondling yourself in front of him and drop your hands. “sorry. it's not your problem. I'll live!” 
you usually love having him around for as long as he'll stay, but you're in such pain you just wanna take an advil and take a nap. he doesn't deserve to hear your bitching. 
art feels bad. this is half his responsibility and he has to deal with 0 of the aches and pains. hed siphon it from you if he could. he works his bottom lip between his teeth, face already turning pink before he even says the words. 
“I could help.” 
you blink at him, confused at first. “help?”
arts ears are red now. his fingers flex at his sides. he imagines them on your tits and has to inhale. 
“I mean - my hands might. they might feel better. if you want, obviously. I just hate to see you in pain.” 
so that's how you end up with your back to his broad chest. leaned back as his hands hover at your waist over the shirt. you're all flushed, both of you, but you reckon his hands really will help. they're so sturdy looking. and you remember how they felt on your bare skin. those slender fingers, those palms. with that in mind you place your hands over his and slip them under your shirt - “direct contact will probably help more.” you explain, half because it'd true and also because it's an opportunity to feel his hands again - and you won't waste it. 
arts whole body is burning. hot. he says, “right.” because his brain is rather fucking blank the second his hands make contact with your skin. you're so warm and soft. just like that night. except his baby is inside you now.
he cant help it. he has to feel over your bump. skims his palm over the taut muscle of your belly where it extends out. he's kind of awestruck. 
“have they kicked?” he thinks he'll pass out if he feels it. 
you shake your head. “I'd tell you if they did. I know you'd want to feel.”
his heart warms. he caresses your belly. “I would.” he confirms gently. “I want to be there for everything.” 
you bite your lip. sigh when his hands start trailing up your body. you dont know if he's purposely being sensual about it, or if he's just being respectful about the way he handles your body. it feels so good. it feels natural. his palms cup the side of your tits first, and you gasp. 
“sorry.” he says - starting to pull away and you quickly shake your head.
“no.” you tell him. “no it feels good - dont worry about being too gentle. it's alot of pressure …. “ 
he breathes out and touches you again. grips you'd breasts in his hand and tries not to lose his mind. he's doing this to help you. you're in pain. this isn't about him.
but god, you're so fucking soft. he can feel your flesh squeeze between his fingers. feel the stiff peaks of your nipples. he massages your tits like that for a second, just cupping and pressing against your tits with slight pressure, steadily building the more you sigh in approval. 
he's so big behind you. big chest at your back big hands groping and gripping your fat and heavy tits. 
“that feels so good.” you tell him, and if you have a whine in your voice well it's his fault for having such good hands. 
“im glad.” he chokes out. fuck. he's throbbing in his jeans. hard and thick and he's remembering how your tits felt pressed against his bare chest when he'd been inside you- deep in your tight wet little cunt - you'd been so vocal under him, sweet and cloying and he vividly remembers how the nipples he's currently pinching, felt in his mouth, under his tongue. remembers them bouncing in his face when he'd had you a second time, on his lap, riding his cock so fucking eagerly. 
his brain is all fuzzy with the memories of that night. the message becomes less about relieving you of any pain and just about feeling your body in his hands. you can feel his pecs move against your back as he breathes in and out - his touches becoming less hesitant and more demanding - he squeezes getting more aggressive and dominant. sexual. 
your cunt throbs, your little clit having a heartbeat. you've become so fucking - horny lately. you have to touch yourself everyday - your hormones all over the fucking place. being touched like this isn't helping. you feel soaked and wet between your thighs. downright sticky with it.
you want to reach down and rub yourself. the pounding of your pussy has become even more painful than the throb in your breasts earlier. 
“im so horny.” you say - the confession ripped from your chest. said kinda desperately, hopelessly. arts hands pause on your tits and you lean back against him, pushing it, testing. “it hurts so bad, art. all these pregnancy hormones - no matter how much I touch myself it's never enough. I need to be filled.” 
“jesus.” he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he tries to find that thin thread of control, but he can't. it's gone. probably broke the second he felt you in his hands again. “you can't say things like that….” 
“but it hurts.” you whine. shift around. “hurts right now.” 
you sound near tears and fuck, he fucking hurts too. he's been holding himself back for so long, ignoring his needs - resiting you. he can't even remember why. 
“c’mere.” he tells you, and then he's turning you around in his lap, nd you're straddling his lap, feeling the hard length of him through your clothes and he kisses the gasp right out of your mouth. you moan into each other. his hands grip your ass, rock your tender little pussy against his cock and the friction makes your eyes roll back. 
“please.” you gasp against his mouth, your belly just big enough to put and inch of space between you. your hand tugs at his jeans - “please make it better - I need your cock -”
“the baby -” he pants but doesn't stop you from yanking his jeans down, lifting his ass to help you, even. 
you shake your head, “that's not a thing.” you giggle - “and it helps with - with all the pain I'm feeling - promise -” 
all he has to do is slip your sleep shorts to the side like panties - because you're not wearing any - and sink you down onto his cock - his head falls back when he feels that melting pot of a pussy around him. sucking, tender, soft, tight - squeezing him so fucking good. 
he grips your ass even harder - “your pussy is so good, baby - “ he plants his feet, braces to bounce you on his dick- “im gonna make you fucking cum.” 
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moonlightazriel · 3 months
Text
My brave girl /// Azriel X F!Reader
Summary: Reader comes home injured after a mission and Azriel takes care of her.
Warnings: Mentions of blood.
Word Count: 1,1K
Notes: I've been working on something and i ended up not being able to write for weeks, this was a little something that i wrote last night, hope you guys enjoy, i hope to be able to write more soon.
Main Masterlist
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" She cursed, her knee colliding with the coffee table in the living room, the loud thud could've awakened the whole house, and this was far from the ideal. 
Her vision was blurry, the metallic scent of blood making her head spin even harder. She took a deep breath, trying to walk with her shaking legs, wavering steps towards the old room she called her own. 
She let her body rest against the wall, using it to support her weight, unaware of the trail of blood that followed her all the way to the room. She pushed the door open, her eyes feeling heavy as she blinked, stumbling inside the room, holding onto the doorknob to prevent herself from falling face first against the soft rug. 
Wincing in pain, she went to the bathroom, the House, so kindly, providing her with a first aid kit. She removed her soaked leathers, trying to use some of the white towels to stop the profuse bleeding state she found herself in. 
Unbeknownst to her, a few rooms away, in the room she shared with the so feared Shadowsinger, a stray shadow whispered, being joined by a constant chant of his name, waking him up from his slumber. 
Azriel groaned, stretching his wings and running a hand over his face, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, a few specks of moonlight providing illumination to his room. 
The first thing that alerted him was his eager shadows, the mist dancing away from him, urging him to follow with a chant of "Something's wrong, you must come now." And the second, was the pungent scent of blood, sweat and fear. 
With his beloved dagger clutched in between his right hand, Azriel got up, slowly pushing his door open and following the river that led him towards your old room, a room you haven't used in so long, why was someone there? 
His eyes caught the trace of blood, and his heart started to beat faster, no other unknown scent lingered around the house, he could smell the musky scent of Cassian, the wine and roses that belonged to Nesta, and then you, lavender, earthy rain and blood. This rang all the bells in his head and he ran. 
He entered your room, feeling anxious. The lights in the bathroom were on, he could see from underneath the door, and as he approached, slowly pushing it open, he gasped in horror and fear. 
Your waist and legs were covered in blood, you looked pale, hands covered in the viscous liquid as well. He swore he could see some of your organs spilling out of you, he wasn't sure. But he heard your yelp of surprise, or pain, he couldn't tell. And then you slammed the door in his face. 
"Let me in!" He demanded. 
"Nope, I'm fine." she replied. 
"I won't ask again, let me in, you are going to pass out." He tried to open the door again.
"I can handle it, don't worry." Came the answer to his plea.
"Love, please." He begged one more time. "You always take care of me, let me take care of you." With the loudest sigh ever, the door slowly creaked open.
"Please don't be mad." Her face was tinted with guilt and embarrassment, and he hated that look on her, it never suited her. 
"I would never be mad at you." He said, entering the bathroom. He snatched the things from her hand, helping her up to the sink counter, where he could see the gash across her abdomen. The wound was deep, and it smelled of ash, which made sense as to why she wasn't healing yet. "Wanna tell me what happened?" 
"They came out of nowhere, they knew I was there, took three of them down before this last motherfucker came from behind and slashed me open like a cow." She closed her eyes, holding them tightly as he pressed the towel on the wound, working to get it to stop bleeding. 
"Why didn't you come to me?" He asked again, the blood flow was thinner now, so he could clean and stitch her up with no problems. 
"I didn't want to worry you." He rolled his eyes and she gave him a middle finger.
"I worry about you because I love you, I will never be bothered to take care of my mate." She grasped the countertop harder, her knuckles turning white.
"Thank you." He started to stitch until  the wound was closed.
"No need to thank me, but next time, please, come to me." He begged and she nodded, staying silent as he finished his work, not the best stitches in the world, some bumpy parts and it would most definitely scar but once the ash was out she would be fine. "You should shower, it has more blood on your clothes than inside of your body." 
She nodded, getting out of the sink and immediately bumping into him, her weak knees collapsed and if it wasn't for his quick thinking, she would be on the floor now. 
"Maybe I should help you, we don't want to add a broken nose to the list." She gave him a big smile with half open eyes, the blood loss was finally catching up on her, the adrenaline vanishing. 
"Wise as always Az." She said and he helped her out of her clothes and in the shower, rubbing the blood from her body and helping her wash her hair. "I love you." She said, poking his cheek. "So so so so so so much." Her words were slurred and he worked quicker, finishing her bath and wrapping her in a towel, carrying her to their room. 
"I love you too, pretty girl." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her body finally giving in to the sleep and carrying her consciousness far away from her, her chest moving softly, the wound slowly starting to close. 
Silly girl, he thought, how could she not know that he would bring the world down, fly to the sun, erase everything that was ever created just to ensure her safety? How could she not know he loved her to an extent that he would gladly give up his life for her? She would never know how much he loved her, and all he could do was try to show her. 
With a content sigh, he finished drying himself, climbing in naked behind her, pulling her by the waist, careful of her wound, nuzzling his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath and allowing her scent to invade him and calm his frantic thoughts, she hummed happily as she wiggled closer to his body. And he laid there, watching her sleep, his brave girl. His brave mate. 
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pastelclovds · 2 years
Text
-> part one
and that was how you two got here. clothing long since discarded and fucking like wild animals. your lover was beautiful under you. pink blush dusted across their face, eyes lidded, and their mouth open while spewing adorable moans. every time your dick hit their deepest sweet spot, it like you were marking your territory. they would never get tired of your cock stretching them open, never get tired of being one with you, if it were possible, they would want to be filled with you forever.
the couch you were on was rocking along with your thrusts, your sweat making stains on the fabric, and the atmosphere around you became humid every thrust in their hole. you were determined to make your lover feel good both emotionally and sexually, you grunt when your lovers hands grip onto your shoulders and dig their nails until marks were for sure to show up. but their hole tightening around you made you forget the pain and increase your pace.
"a-ah! oh you feel so good inside me darling, so good!" you hold onto your lover's waist tighter as you groan into their chest. one of your lover's hands suddenly grabbed onto your hand to keep you on their chest. "please, mark me, bite me, make sure people know that i'm yours!" without a second thought you follow your lover's demand and begin to cover their chest live bites and hickeys. your lover lets out a high pitched moan when you begin playing with their nipples and suck on the weak spot on their neck. "y-you're mine, right? you love you, right? ah, hahh, please tell me." the tears came back, except they were of pleasure, such good addicting pleasure.
"of course i love you- oh god- i'll always be yours. and y-you'll always be mine." you answered breathlessly, your pace now becoming sloppy as you were growing close to to cumming inside your lover. not that they mind at all. they wouldn't mind getting filled again, and again, until your balls were empty. after hearing your answer, your lover's legs tightened around you and grinded their hips down to match your thrusts. "fill me with your cum, fuck me harder, please, anything! just make me yours- OH!" you suddenly pulled out and flipped your lover over onto their hand and knees and roughly thrusted inside them and started moving at a faster pace than before.
In this position, your cock was deeper inside them and they could literally feel you in their stomach ruining their insides. you felt do fucking good, nobody else could have you, they would kill anyone who dared laid their hands on you. "i'm cumming, oh i'm cumming, please cum with me darling, light of my life, my one and only!" they were so close, they just needed a little bit more- "i love you so much, cum for me." that was the end for your lover, their vision was blurred with bright white as images of you filled their mind. it wasn't long until you snapped too, and you filled them to the brim.
you and your lover collapsed onto your now dirty sofa, your sweat covered bodies held each other as your orgasms washed over you. "thank you darling, thank you so much. you can't leave me. you won't ever leave me, right?" it didn't really matter what your answer was, your obsessed lover would still not let you leave them either way.
6K notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 10 months
Note
hi good morning! (or afternoon or evening)
how about a svt scenario thing where you’re an idol (and dating them) and you get injured by a crazy saesang that’s obsessed with your s/o?
basically, y/n is an idol in a popular group and at a fansign event, a saesang rushes towards her and attacks her, injuring her with smth (there’s blood) and vroom hospital etc etc. how would svt react?
idk this has been my brain-worm for the past few days
thank you 😊 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
a sasaeng attacking their idol!reader gf
content: mentions of stalking, mentions of being attacked, mentions of injuries, mentions of hospitalization, reader is an idol, a lil angsty, etc.
wc: 1559
a/n: thank u so much for ur request! sorry for the delay hehe (these scenarios are assuming ur relationship is public knowledge btw <3)
masterlist
seungcheol -
no one had ever seen him this angry. even his members kept away from him upon noticing his furious demeanor after getting a call from your manager informing him that you had been taken to the hospital to tend to some bruises and scratches you had undergone after one of his stalker fans had quite literally jumped at you from across the table, having made themselves pass as your fan. would not comment on it publicly, simply choosing to cut his promotions short and taking a quick break to tend to you. the only thing to alleviate his anger would be your presence and knowing that you were now safe. would demand both pledis and your own company enforce better security, incredibly frustrated that you even got a single scratch on you due to their negligence.
jeonghan -
not being one to hide his emotions from fans, he would express frustration at it, mentioning it on live when consistently questioned about it. would state his disappointment, but would make it clear this was directed at fans who knew their actions were morally wrong. he would probably not do much about it other than make sure your security amped up, not wanting to get in the way of your own idol career or draw more attention to this, but having your security as top priority. would put extra focus in babying you and tending to you at any and every moment he was off work.
joshua -
he'd be very emotionally affected by it. you'd be able to tell by his quieted down demeanor after the incident that he felt put off by any public appearance, thinking that anyone around him could be a crazed fan who wanted to inflict pain on his loved ones. would continue schedules as normal, but his personality would remain tame for a while, while he recovered emotionally from the guilt he felt at indirectly putting you in danger. he'd feel extremely apologetic towards you, even if you told him you were fine and did not blame him for any of it.
jun -
his lighthearted demeanor would shift immediately. he would take a hiatus, taking you with him to china so he could have you to himself for a month or so. would not care about any repercussions to his idol career, considering your safety the top priority. would become serious for a while, only bringing back his loving and playful personality when interacting with you or any of his other loved ones. would never speak about this publicly once he came back from break, simply acting as if nothing happened. he would've had to demand both your company and pledis amp up any and all security for you the moment you came back from your own hiatus.
soonyoung -
the usually lighthearted and silly boy would turn stoic for a while. he'd never express his frustrations outwardly, but would now feel a constant sense of disappointment at both himself and at any crazed fan who would ever dare even think of putting their hands on you. would be super apologetic to you, begging you to not end it because of this incident. the only thing that would calm him down would be your reassurance that it'd take far more than one obsessed fan to drive you away from him. would dedicate all his free time to you and take on a more protective attitude towards you.
wonwoo -
would probably go on a short hiatus. you were one of the most important people in his life. he had kept the relationship secret as much as he could, but after dispatch outed you two as a couple, you had begun to receive more threats than usual. now not only from your own stalker fans but from his too. would be absolutely devastated he was the cause of your pain. he could never leave you out of his sight again, feeling an innate need to protect you. would stay gone and just be with you for a few months before returning to his idol duties, never speaking publicly about what happened.
jihoon -
pure disgust and annoyance. the same way he calls out sasaengs on live for pestering him with calls, he would bring this up too. saying that he's tried to ignore it but that some things go too far. would feel bad if any other carats felt uncomfortable by his scolding, but would feel so incredibly frustrated the love of his life was put in danger due to someone liking him way too much for safety. scared you might feel like this is too much to deal with, but would respect if you decided the relationship was just not worth the pain. would thank you immensely the moment you told him he's worth all hurdles, that you simply needed better security.
seokmin -
it was rare to see seokmin angry, and he had never been this angry. fans would be able to tell after the incident that his demeanor had shifted completely. would take him about a week or so to go back to his bubbly self while in public, having gotten the scare of his life when he got a call from your manager claiming that an obsessed dk fan had launched at you at a fansign, makeshift weapon in hand as they managed to mangle some of the skin of your arm before being swiftly taken away by security. he wouldn't go on hiatus, but he'd spend every passing minute with you as he apologized and reassured you no one would ever hurt a hair off your head ever again.
mingyu -
would also go on a quick hiatus. he hates calling out crazed fans, knowing it only incites them to do deranged things like this even more, being aware that they'll do anything to get a reaction out of him. so he wouldn't give them one. he would simply step back from idol duties for a while, joining you in your own hiatus as you emotionally (and physically) recovered from the attack. would try and give you an out, telling you that if dating him put you in danger then maybe you should reconsider your options, he would always love you but he would understand. would feel instant relief the moment you cursed him out, telling him a few injuries were not enough to drive you away. he'd swear to never let you out of his sight again.
minghao -
another member who would be extremely angry. would do his best to stand by you and show his support towards you even if it meant putting your relationship even more into the public eye. you would be his one and only priority. he would bring it up at some point in an interview or statement, airing out his frustrations at sasaengs who thought of him as anything more than an idol. would put a brake on fan-idol interactions even more now, now even toning down most of his fanservice to avoid fans getting the wrong idea that he'd ever look their way when he had you.
seungkwan -
just absolutely terrified. he'd never felt more fear in his life than the moment his manager informed him of the news that you were in the hospital due to one of his stalker fans attacking you. would feel incredibly guilty and beg you for forgiveness as he visited you at the hospital. the only relief he felt at the situation would be your insistence in telling him you were fine and that this would not break your relationship. he'd become overly attached and protective of you, demanding his own company to provide security for you, claiming that this was a personal issue and that he would not rest unless you were as protected as possible.
vernon -
would be brooding and cold for a while. he would've dealt with the situation behind the scenes, not wanting anyone to see his reaction, knowing that acknowledging the situation publicly would only cause more crazed fans to try and do the same. he'd back away from the public for a while, only participating in any mandatory schedules and even then he would keep himself hidden in the back as much as possible. would feel a little guilty for technically punishing all fans when it was only a few who acted like this, but would need some time to recover from having put the love of his life in danger.
chan -
this was brand new territory for him, so he would feel absolutely taken by surprise. he never would have imagined someone to try and come after the love of his life, much less under the claim that it was for his own good. no words could describe the guilt he felt at seeing you at the hospital, scratches in your face showing the damage the fan was able to inflict before security pulled them away. would curse at your security team, claiming this couldve been way worse, and that they risked your life. would also apologize for his part in it, knowing that if he was out of the picture this never wouldve happened. would take a short break from idol activities to spend a week with you holed up at a safe location, spending the entire time showing you how much he cared for you and how he would protect you from now on.
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azrielslittleslut · 3 months
Text
The Frenzy (pt. 2)
Azriel x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Azriel and reader continue to explore their mating bond.
Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, fingering, edging, scratching, pet names, wing play (kind of), p in v, praise, slightly dom!Az
Word Count: 1.8k
part 1
a/n: i have at least one more part for this planned, but I am totally open to suggestions on what you guys wanna see in this fic!;)
Enjoy!
In your centuries of living, you had known some mated couples, and you had always heard tales of the intensity of the mating frenzy.
"You won't be able to get enough of them, your mate."
"You won't be able to stop. Even if you're sore and tired.."
"Your body demands more, more, more. It's like you're never satisfied."
You had always thought they were exaggerating. Surely, your body would reach a point to where food and rest would overcome your desire to have your mate inside of you.
Gods, you were wrong.
You had not gotten any sleep last night since you and Azriel had finally accepted the mating bond. You couldn't get enough of him. You craved more of his taste, his smell. You thought only of his hands on your body, his cock moving inside of you. Luckily, he met your relentless hunger with his own.
Insatiable is the only word to describe what you are feeling.
"How about a bath?" Az asked from where he was lying on top of your chest. You had just finished your tenth round of lovemaking. Or was it the eleventh? You didn't know. You lost track a while ago.
"Hmm," you murmur, running your fingers through his silky black hair. "That sounds nice." Your body was covered in dried sweat and cum, and you longed to be clean again.
Azriel gracefully slides from the bed, fighting through the tangled sheets. He grabs your ankles and pulls you after him. You laugh as he hauls you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He grips your ass in his hands as he walks towards the bathroom.
The bathroom was quite large, and the tub was conveniently big enough for two. The water was already running, thanks to the enchantment on the cabin. Through the large window in the bathroom, you can see the sun beginning to rise along the peaks of the mountains in the distance. It was still quite dark, though, so the cabin's magic also lit the candles lining the room, casting everything in a sultry glow.
"It seems you kept me up all night," you murmur to Az as he sets you gently into the water. You settle yourself against one of the benches along the side of the tub, and you let out a soft moan as the warm water eases the tinge of pain in your sore muscles. He had put you in positions you hadn't even realized were possible, but you weren't complaining.
Azriel chuckles as he gets in after you, making his way over to settle himself between your spread legs. He leans down and begins kissing your neck, sucking on your skin. His shadows swirl around him, and you giggle as you feel them tickle your face. "What can I say?" he asks, his voice low. "I crave you. You make me almost feral because of how much I need you."
You lean your head back against the edge of the tub to give him better access. "I didn't realize it would be like this," you admit. "I'm so tired and sore, but I want more."
Azriel pulls away and you can see his eyes darken with lust. It was a new look from him you had grown accustomed to over the last few hours. You had seen his eyes full of happiness, which caused the greens and browns in his hazel eyes to stand out. You had seem them full of sadness, and even fear.
But this look.. this look caused his eyes to turn almost black, and the sight of it lit a fire deep in your bones and caused your pussy to throb.
He smirks, and you find yourself staring at the way his luscious lips move. You remember the way those lips feel wrapped around your nipples, the way they felt against your slick folds.
You let out a soft moan and pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist in the process. The hot water from the bath felt cold compared to the heat dancing across your skin. The world narrowed down to only Azriel, and your unrelenting need for him.
He chuckles. "So needy for my cock, hm?" he teases, leaning down to bite on the tender spot between your neck and shoulder. "Let's see what we can do about that."
He swiftly moves back, pulling you with him as he settles on the bench across from yours. You sigh as you feel his hardness against your aching core, and you can't help yourself as you grind against him.
Azriel clicks his tongue and grabs your hips, stopping you in place. "None of that," he murmurs as he moves his hand down to run a finger through your pussy. "You think I haven't noticed how much you love my fingers in you?" He pushes his middle finger in slowly, watching in awe as your mouth drops open in pleasure as he begins to thrust.
Indeed, you loved his fingers inside of you. It was no secret that Az was insecure about his hands, although you had always found them beautiful. But like this, there were no insecurities to be found. He had quickly learned how to make you come apart with his hands alone, and holy shit was he good at it.
Suddenly, he stops his movements, and you hold back a cry of protest. With his free hand, he smacks your ass slightly, causing the water around you to ripple. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer." The tone of his voice held no room for argument.
In the past few hours, you had realized your mate was a walking paradox. To everyone else, he was polite, kind, and gentle. Yes, he could be cruel and ruthless, but that was only when he was doing his job for the Night Court. But in the bedroom, he was a demanding male, and he had the tendency to withhold your pleasure if you didn't follow his orders.
You didn't mind. With him, you had no problem being told what to do. You loved the idea of him being in control. In fact, it turned you on like fucking crazy.
"Y-yes," you stutter, struggling to find words. "I love your fingers, your hands. You make me feel so good with them."
"Good girl." He begins to move his hand again, and he quickly adds another finger. "Has anyone else made you feel this good, princess?" he asks, leaning down to leave hickeys along your neck. "Tell me."
You shake your head, already beginning to feel your climax build. "No," you whisper.
Az slows down his hand, just enough to cause your pleasure to subside. "No what."
Smug bastard.
You offer him a sweet, innocent smile. "No, sir."
"There's those manners," he murmurs. He removes his hand, and you cry out at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He runs a soothing hand over your hip, moving it down to grasp his cock. "Take it. Take your pleasure, baby."
You wrap your hands around him, marveling at the fact that your fingertips don't touch. You hover over him just long enough for you to line him up with your pussy. In a quick move, you slam your hips down, seating him into the hilt.
"Fuck," he snarls, throwing his head back against the tub. "You take my cock so well, angel."
You begin to move, slamming yourself down over and over. You don't care about the fact that the water is splashing all over the floor. You are only focused on him, on the way his cock fits perfectly inside of you like it was made for you and you for him. You run your fingers over his chest, digging your nails in to leave marks across his Illyrian tattoos. "You fill me up so good. Nobody has ever made me feel like this, and nobody else will." You lean forward to trace your tongue across the skin of his neck, loving the feeling of his strained muscles. "You're perfect for me."
He moans at the praise coming from your lips, at the feeling of your tongue along his skin. He grips your hips in his hands as he begins to fuck you, meeting your thrusts with his own. Your eyes roll back as you feel him hitting that tender spot deep inside of you over and over again.
Through your mindless pleasure, you notice his wings have moved in slightly, wrapping themselves around you. You grip his face gently in your hand to get his attention. "Can I?" you ask quietly. You had never touched his wings, and you would understand if he wasn't ready for that yet.
His gaze softens as he realizes what you are asking. "Yes. Of course."
You smirk at him as you move your hands up. "Nothing crazy for now." In each hand, you grip his talons at the end of his wings. "My mate has made me tired and sore, so I could just use some leverage."
You hold his wings, keeping your eyes on Azriel as you keep moving, grinding your hips down so that your clit rubs against his pelvic bone. You feel his shadows begin to dance across your heated skin, running across your sensitive nipples.
"You're. So. Fucking. Beautiful," he roars, accentuating each word with a powerful thrust of his hips. "All mine. All mine." He says the words like a prayer, and you send up your own prayer to the Mother, thanking her for blessing you with such a wonderful mate.
The bathroom is filled with the sound of your combined moans, and the sinfulness of it causes your tether to snap. You scream as your climax slams into you, gripping his talons tightly.
"That's it, love," Azriel moans, fucking you through it. "Give me your pleasure." His eyes roll back into his head as you milk him. With a final deep thrust, Azriel follows you, filling you with ropes of his cum.
You gently release his wings, moving your hands down to cup his face. You run your thumbs across his high cheekbones, noting every freckle dusting the top of his nose. "I love you," you whisper.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your scent that is now mixed with his. "I love you more," he responds. He wraps his wings tightly around you, forming what looks like a cocoon.
The two of you had wasted so much time, so many years. Now, there would be no more wasted time. You would love him with all of your strength, and you knew he would love you with all of his. That new bond glows brightly within your chest, and you smile at the feeling of it.
Forever wouldn't be long enough to be with him, but every forever starts with a beginning.
This was only the beginning.
taglist: @lilah-asteria @ivy-34
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nonbinarylocalcryptid · 4 months
Text
In this whole scenario where Astyanax lives, I guess the encounter with Poseidon would have been a loooot different...but not much because then we would have no Odyssey.
And because Odysseus does actually have braincells (I know, shocking, but he has his moments), he also asked Aelous for some kind of baby float, because guys, we are on a ship, in the middle of the sea, ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN.
So burrito baby is safe in Ruthlessness. But hear me out, I think it would have gone like this:
Poseidon:
🎶And now it is finally time to say goodbye, today you die
Unless, of course, you apologize
For my son's pain and all his cries🎶
Odysseus:
🎶Poseidon, we meant no harm
We only hurt him to disarm him
We took no pleasure in his pain
We only wanted to escape
A father's rage
Is righteous in nature
As a father
That much I can underst...🎶
*music stops*
Poseidon: wait a minute, how would you know? You haven't seen Telemachus in a decade, give it or take
*Odysseus gestures vaguely at Astyanax in the baby carrier wrapped around his torso*
Poseidon, deadpan: where did that thing come from
Odysseus: I'm sure I don't have to explain reproduction to you, keeping in mind the number of demigods...
Poseidon: don't play with me mortal, where did that baby in particular come from?
Odysseus: well, I'm sure you are in touch with your brother Zeus, king of gods?
Poseidon: go straight to point
Odysseus: well he asked me to unalive a baby back in Troy...
Poseidon: and you dare to keep the infant as yours???
Odysseus: I was left without a choice! Curse me if I do, curse me if I don't! Keep the child or end his life! A god who demands a baby's life is not worthy of workship
*Eurylochus is doing that gesture thing with his hands of "dude stop talking now" where Poseidon can't see him* (but when has that stopped Odysseus?)
Poseidon: you dare to commit blasphemy in exchange of your enemy's son life?
Odysseus: as far as I'm aware, my enemy is dead, and there's no one to take care of this baby, may as well take him with me back to Ithaca. I'm sure as a father you will understand, but it's a shame the very same thing can't be said about your brother
*at this amazing point of the conversation Eurylochus is no longer looking at his brother in law, he is in fact looking at the stormy sea, probably thinking about trying to reach Ithaca by swimming*
Poseidon: and yet I can't left you leave now, you have wronged my son, and by doing so you have wronged me
Odysseus, quick thinking about how to bullshit his way out of this once more: but lord of waves, how would you go on knowing that you left this child become an orphan twice?
Poseidon, now getting why Athena likes this mad lad in particular and because of that, despising him a lot: no need to worry, he'll die too and he'll never know
*music starts again and it ends as we know*
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skyrigel · 4 months
Note
I’m so glad you take requests for Anthony bridgerton. I’ve been in the mood to read angst with happy endings for so looong😫 so could I request Anthony bridgerton x wife angst where they have an argument/fight because he is stressed so he takes his anger out on her so she ends up giving him the silent treatment while he basically begs for her forgiveness
Say nothing then || A.B
Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader
Warning: hurt/angst, superstitious thoughts, Anthony doesn't think he could outlive his father. ( Happy ending and little comfort, i promise.)
Rigel's note 🪩 : Thankyou so much for requesting, absolutely heart breaking to write this one, I took inspo from book, Anthony denying love because he saw his mother going in depression when his father died and taylor swift's lyric I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you") You say nothin' back . I hope i did justice with this one sweetheart <3
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That's the way you loved Anthony, truly and completely and sometimes it was so hard to keep it in, it slipped through your lips everytime you kissed him. Pressing down in his skin and tickling his heart that was yours.
It gazed at him, dusk or dawn, ever so lovely, it scribbled down in your ink, leaving your love trailing down behind him.
When Anthony told you he would give you anything, you believed him, when he said he just wouldn't love you, you didn't.
That's not how it goes, perhaps you were naive and blinded but that, it was love that glinted in his eyes everytime he looked at you. When he would smile and reveal the book you yearned to read, hidden behind his back. When he danced more than any husband did with his wife so you didn't believe when Anthony said he wouldn't love you, that was only a matter of time.
However, there's difference between wouldn't and couldn't, Anthony was scared to love, for he knew it's a force and he would be damned if you were to be left heartbroken just like his mother, he would curse himself if he didn't wake when you would call out for him when he was dea Because Anthony was sure, he bloody knew he wouldn't be able to live past his father and in no universe he would want to see you begging, crying and slowly drifting away. Lost and sad, no.
So he wouldn't love you and he would save you from the greater grief, of getting left behind while the other is gone.
But love became too much sometimes, held too much of your heart and body and soul that it demanded to fly and then one such night, all the chains tattered and it was bleeding raw and fresh—
" I love you." You said, like you did every passing moment but oops you had said it now, in words and sound as Anthony kissed the back of your ear, it was the first time the words ever experienced by the nature, no doubt you had said it with every kiss, every touch, every gesture but this was new.
Anthony freezed above you, hands dropping whatever mischief they had in tow.
He pulled away from you in a blink of your eye and it took you a moment to realise what went wrong.
" Anthony ? Are you..you are okay honey ? " You whsipered, he didn't look at you, staring at his hands as he could see a story you couldn't.
" I.. Anthony ? " You said again because it scared you, Anthony wasn't the one to look away, all the things that scared you was nothing against the terror, the sinking gut wrenching feeling you felt when Anthony fliched at your touch and you shivered in ache. No, don't leave me. Please, please.
It was another pain to see Anthony like a stranger, like he didn't know you. He would, he promised he would know you anywhere but this, it was threatening.
" What did you say ? " You almost thought it was the voices in your head, the agony that coated the words could never be from him.
Never to you, he was drifting away with each heavy moment and the person who was at the edge of your bed, in your shared chamber, smelling like you, wasn't the person you knew.
" Anthony—" you tried, you couldn't help the choking of your throat as those eyes were fuming in rage, maybe there was love, hiding somewhere but you couldn't find it and it broke your heart. Anthony couldn't be right.
" You don't mean that ! " He was screaming, his whole body shaking as his fist slammed the mattress in fit of rage.
A strangled hiccup escaped your throat when Anthony gripped your shoulder, hard but not bruising, like he wanted to shake you out of this feeling. He couldn't.
" You don't understand, love, love, love—" he almost cried, his nose reddening, his whole face was burning.
" —its stupid ! Means nothing, does nothing, it takes away everything..." His voice tore down deep inside you, like breaking membranes and dropping vases, it could never be the same.
" You don't understand... don't say it ! You stupid woman ! " He bellowed when you worked your jaw to say something, Don't say it, I love you—
I love you, please, please, let me love you—
But just as he said it, it wasn't Anthony, it was like your mama reminding you how stupid you were, stupid, stupid girl, she would say.
Stupid woman, he had said and everything else was slowly fading, it was starting to slow down, like watching it from away, in different bodies, like you were the doorknob or the painting on the wall because you were crumbling under his touch.
Anthony mere few inches away and you wondered what he would do if you kissed him just then, would he stop this torment?
Would he pull away, back then he didn't when they were your silent ' I love you's ' instead he drank them in, tasted your love raw and wild and now refused them in sound and wave.
" What should I say Anthony ? " You were sure they never made it out, lost somewhere in void, perhaps still coiling around your cartilage but the shocked silence that echoed between the little space between you reminded you how words crawled out after all. Even those meant to be quiet. I love you.
" Say nothing then." His voice is so small that barely register and before you could, he's inhaling large gulps of air, drifting back and back and his eyes not quite meeting yours until he turned his back to you.
He was gone for the night.
Say nothing then.
He wasn't there for the breakfast.
Say nothing then.
He wasn't there the next day.
Say nothing then.
And the day next, and one that followed—
Until you reasiled you haven't said anything in days, it wasn't so bad afterall, it was, very, very bad and lonely but it was okay, as long as Anthony would come back, it should be.
It was very quiet when Anthony stumbled back, his steps shaking and vision dizzy.
He was terribly pissed. You turned the page you only half read and focused hard on the words, Anthony stripped his clothes as he climbed the bed next to you, in an attempt to kiss your forehead like he did every night.
He wasn't there to do it for days and you didn't sleep, it could surely go on, you pulled away.
Something hurt flashed through his eyes and he looked down at the sheets, chest heaving with untaken breaths.
" Good night Viscountess." He whsipered softly and You said nothing back.
Say nothing then.
You weren't sure how you did it but you managed to untangle yourself from Anthony by dawn, you slept for the first time in days and it was over with a series of dreams, each ended with you saying I love you and Anthony saying nothing back.
Silence was louder than words, it was also harsher than words.
Watching Anthony sleep was like playing we're good with him , you weren't sure if you could cry anymore than you had already.
It felt like nothing happened and it could go back to be like before, you could press your love to his skin and it wouldn't burn and leave scars.
But you didn't want that, that was something it had became unbearable, when love bled through you, it was unstoppable and you realised how you will love him enough to make it up for both of you but he wouldn't let you. He wouldn't love you either.
The hurt was visible when his hand trembled, he tried hard to catch your eye, you focused at the honey, so sweet. Anthony didn't know but it hurt you all the same. How much burden you felt in your bones when you couldn't tell him all the things you woke up with, to tell him about your dreams — nightmares now, to tell him that you hate him so much, to kiss him until he couldn't breathe and tear everything wrenched out of him, but you couldn't.
All the more heartache when Anthony brought out the third part of your beloved novel and when the smile never came on your lips, only tears that blurred your gaze so much that you turned away from him, Anthony was shattered.
It was the second day, you hadn't said anything at all, inside screaming didn't count as one. You watched ahead as the far, far away trace of green rolling grass from your balcony. It occurred to you how horizon was made, where earth met the sky and here you were, with souls of something same, whatever they were made of, and yet you and Anthony couldn't mingle.
" Isn't it beautiful ? " He looked at you like you would answer him, he hoped too much.
Say nothing then—
" Huh.." he tried to smile, it was so small.
You stared ahead because looking at Anthony only added salt to your wound, it was aggravating.
It was after some slipped moments when he spoke in a strained small voice, hurt and broken and it shivered you.
" I was so scared...still am," he said and his voice broke, a muffled cry escaped him and you looked at him, really. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and shush away every cry, every pain, every sadness.
Say nothing—
" I thought...I thought i could just keep it away, keep you safe..from me, from love—" and he was crying, not sobbing, not whimpering but crying as big warm tears steamed down his face and he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands reaching for you like moth reaching flame and you took him, held him.
Say—
" I..I..I thought.. could—" he sniffed," couldn't, i can't pretend anymore, I don't want to leave you in pain... don't want to leave you in hurt... can't can't can't keep it in." He cried more and more and more matter how much you wiped his tears, but more fell and it was then you realised, they were yours. You were crying too.
" I am sorry, I am so, so sorry for ever hurting your my sweet love—" he swallowed hard.
" Anthony.. it's okay.. it's alright." You assured him, maybe you and him could go with your love only pressed between silence and gestures and eyes and it would be enough.
But you couldn't watch him break, wouldn't and couldn't.
" I love you." He said, voice not shaking, eyes sincere behind the gleaming tears, " I love you, always had, always would." He brought your knuckles to kiss, love pressing down in your skin. It was golden in the last rays of sun.
" Anthony you don't have to say it." You understood, atleast you did. He shaked his head and smiled through his wet face.
" No, no...let me, " he exclaimed, " I love you my baby, my lady." He smiled and it reached his eyes, you giggled softly when he pressed open mouthed kisses on your hands.
" I love you, I love you and I love you." He said, " I am a fool for ever denying it, I am a fool for you my Viscountess." He inhaled, breathing after a very long time.
" I am sorry, I love you so much baby." His lip trembled and you wanted to steady them so bad.
" I love you too Anthony, truly and completely." You kissed his forehead and he melted in your touch, and you didn't know how much time ticked away with loud and whispered and blessed I love you's and that's the way he loved you, truly and completely.
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Rigel's note 🪩 ( again) : I hope this was good, I am such a angst sucker myself<3 request through my ask box :) and can you reblog ? Please, please.
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buttercupblu · 5 months
Text
Studying with Choso🌱🫧🌷
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Student!Choso x Reader|One-Shot
the deets: Poor Cho - he's been best friends with books and binders for weeks on end with little to no time for his favorite subject; You 🥺. With his finals just around the corner, his cram sessions are in full swing... and affections absent. So, being the angel that you are, you decide to give him a helping hand. w.c: 3.8k tags: fem!reader, fem!top/switch (kinda), teasing, nipple play, breath play, choking, handjob, praise, pet names, Ph.D student Choso|mention of: rough penetration, bruising, throat fucking, 18+ MDNI angel's note: what began as a daydream turned into my 1st (completed) JJK fanfic - go crazy, go stupid|don't talk to me about the latest spoilers ... pls 🥲
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Sigh.
He’s been at it for hours now. 
The clock ticking against the silence in the room made that obnoxiously apparent. 
Hums of Lofi coming from the living room is your only saving grace. The peace and tranquility he needs to concentrate starkly contrasts the infectious heat growing in your lower body. 
Nibbling on your nails proves meek, as your thighs, acting as hand warmers, begin to ache. You couldn’t help but palm your pussy while trying to resist the urge to interrupt Choso’s study session.
Again.
Your cunny kept speaking to you with a raging heartbeat. Begging you to march in there and demand attention as he’d been home for hours with little to no sprinkles of affection. 
You groan, burying your face into your pillow. 
“Baaabe,” you call out, a pout forming on your lips. 
As much as you wanted to quell your growing pains, you knew this was a really important exam for Choso - one of his last hurdles before wrapping up his Ph.D program. Knowing how much it meant to Choso, you feel a twinge of guilt. 
Your little man was on his way to wearing white lab coats and curing diseases, saving lives one cure at a time. A faint smile finds your face thinking about it. You could see him clearly, donning goggles and blue gloves; his signature spiky buns (adding to the charm) are truly adorable. His little face is a picture of concentration, completely absorbed in his work while taking measurements and recording data; you could almost hear the sound of his pen scratching on the notepad. 
The image of him so absorbed in his work is both charming and impressive; it always makes your heart flutter.
You just knew that those bitches he’s going to be working with better watch themselves. 
Choso in that element alone was enough to make you fold; you could only imagine working so closely with him for multiple hours and taking more than your fair share of quick glances—clenching your thighs to steady your desires to have him bend you over the metal table just to feel the coolness against your nipples. 
“I’m sorry, babe,” Choso whines back. It breaks you out of your jealousy-filled fantasy. Yet, you find your fingertips damp from the arousal between your legs. “I just need a bit more time.” You hear the fatigue in his voice. Knowing your love is so tired and hard at work breaks your heart. 
But that’s all he’s been doing as of late, and you felt as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages. Between his hours-long sessions at the lab and catching up on sleep, you barely had time to cuddle at bedtime. You missed his warmth, his strong arms instinctively bringing you closer to him as he slept. The way your bodies formed a perfect C as he kissed into your neck.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And you are surely suffering at the moment. 
The multiple attempts to dissuade his attention from his books were fruitless. 
Casual walk-bys in his favorite silky shorts of yours, the ones that hug above your plump undercuff, went unnoticed. You were sure he could feel the wind against his face as you swished by, making sure your cheeks lingered in his air for a second or two. 
He paid it no mind.. 
It wasn't until you stopped dead in front of him that he finally turned his attention to you, pausing to follow his wandering eyes around the wavy rim of your shorts. The design stretched around your plush thighs creating an imprint on your body, marking your velvety skin. Your arms crossed firmly on your chest push your tits into full view; the accompanying pout on your face made his dick jump.
He sighs, trailing his hands up your thighs to the small of your back, and pulls you in between his legs. A deep breath follows as he inhales your rosy scent, savoring the fragrance he wishes he could bottle and horde.
His chin rests on your lower belly as he looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. “An hour. I promise.”
He peers over the rim of his reading glasses, looking on with a furrowed brow and pouty lip, squeezing at your hips.
You couldn’t resist melting when he’s like this.
His eyes beg for patience, but his hands, wavering under the cuffs of your cheeks, say otherwise. A gentle squeeze on your inner thigh confirms it; you bite your lip at his firm grasp, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Fawk me. 
"Hmph.” you lower into his lap, perfectly molding your body against his. Resting your head on his shoulder, your hands find solace at the nape of his neck. He's so warm. His arms find home around your waist, a sensation that always makes you feel so secure, so small. So needy.
You rock into him, the smell of his hair drugging you as you try to be as close as possible, barely able to control the need to dry-hump him for relief. 
Oh, how his heavenly thighs would be a perfect candidate. 
“One hour? You promise, Cho?” your whine, coupled with the dampness of your shorts, incites a bulge between your thighs. The friction of which alone could get you off if you kept up the pace.
This doesn't go unnoticed of course, and it took all of Choso’s restraint to keep him from dragging your hips back and forth himself, letting you use him like a fucktoy against your clit.
Or better yet, take you like this. It would be so easy for him to snake his arms under your legs and prop you up to bounce on his dick. He was sure the chair was sturdy enough to handle him abusing you.
The thought was mind-numbingly irresistible. 
He tugs at his bottom lip, swallowing a moan and holding you a bit tighter.
“I promise.” pressing a kiss on your ear, his fingers float down your spine. You could stay like this for the rest of the night if it were up to you, but you knew his studies were critical. Besides, maybe your patience would come with a reward—a nice fat one. The one sitting neatly in his shorts, threatening to poke out from under you at the present moment. 
But that was almost an hour ago.
The hour he promised he would be done by. 
And lying in bed with your head hanging off of the side, picturing Choso ramming his dick down your throat, certainly wasn’t helping the throbbing in your core. You pull your hand from your shorts, marveling at the webs between your fingers. Frowning immediately after.
Fine. If he wouldn’t come to you…
You huff, sitting up to head to the living room only to be met with Choso’s back turned to you—his head buried in papers and woe. A mischievous grin plays on your face as you tiptoe behind him.
Your arms wrap lovingly around his neck and drift down his chest. He jumps a little, feeling a tug on the bottom of his shirt. Your icy hands slip underneath and palm his chest before he can argue. 
“You keep it so cold in here, Cho,” you nuzzle into his neck, “How am I supposed to stay warm?” 
Your hands snake around his torso until they brush his pink nips. The rhythmic beat of his heart picks up against your fingers. A slight tug elicits a groan from his lips. “Babe,” he winces, “What are you doing?”
You giggle, twirling them between your fingers before pulling out to caress his scalp—a certified soft spot of his and your favorite place to play.
To help him concentrate, of course. 
You tumble through his brunette locks like gentle waves. It’s almost comical how easily his head falls back against your breasts. The sensation mixed with exhaustion turns him into putty in your hands. You gaze lovingly at his bliss-ridden face and softly closed eyes. Slow, shallow breaths escape his rosy lips as if he’s lost in a peaceful dream.
His naturally dark under-eyes show signs of how busy he’s been. anyone else would assume the purple hue came from sleep deprivation (partially true), but you loved how the blush features coveted his face. To you, they only enhance his already striking features, making him all the more breathtakingly beautiful.
Even without an impossible schedule on top of it.
You were enamored with his unwavering commitment to his ambitions, aspirations, and most importantly, you. It was impressive seeing how he seamlessly balanced his pursuit of success and his affection for you, always making time for meaningful moments together. On top of caring for his younger brother Yuji, the cutest little manic dumpling in existence, you couldn’t help but awe at his ability to juggle everything and still find a way to make you feel cherished.
The thought of it all sends butterflies from your tummy to your toes.
His exposed neck begs for attention. You lean, brushing your soft lips against the skin. Careful to ghost over his collarbone, sending trimmers to his ears. The temptation to swipe his earlobe with your tongue flashes through your mind, a feat you know would send his dick through his pants. 
Instead, you slowly wrap your hand around his jaw, pulling his head back further. His eyes lock on your playful smile; his stunned face makes you nuzzle your thighs together. 
“Y/N-” he starts but your lips silence the protest. He melts into your hand feeling your tongue dip into his mouth. His feeble attempt to object fleets like seconds on a clock. 
Mint chocolate fills your mouth tasting the sweet treats he nibbles on to get him through the night. You couldn't stand the taste of chocolate-flavored toothpaste, but you would swallow a barrel full just to sample it from the lips that always took your breath away.
Quelled by your touch, Choso softens in his seat. How could he resist? Your tongue was nectar on any given day, and he was your hummingbird. 
Your hands travel down his chest, lingering on his waist and treasured v-section. Something he worked on sculpting 2 to 3 times a week, though you swore it came naturally. A waist this slutty simply could not be built in a gym. It was your favorite playground on nights when you could not resist the urge to sink your teeth into flesh.
Followed by whines from Choso.
And your knees shaking and shoved against your chest for tempting him.
You pause before his delectable thighs, capturing an involuntary mew when you glide over them. Fuck, he thinks, I’m such a slut—battling between needing to study and needing your touch. 
What began as mischief morphs into something brilliant, feeling your boyfriend writhe in his chair.
Pulling away from his pillowy lips, a smile forms on yours. He looks on, dazed, almost upset that you stole away.
“Cho..,” you breathe, “What is the central dogma of molecular biology?” His eyes pop open. Your fingers on his thigh slow. You hold a lustful stare, watching his mind search for the answers. 
“Um, the flow of genetic information within a biological system?”
You nod happily, resuming your strokes. His lips twitch in response. 
“What isss… the role of CRISPR-Cas9 in genome editing?” You inch closer to his inner thigh. His eyes flash to your hand.
“Aht aht,” tilting his chin, “Look at me when you answer.” Your fingers press deeper into his jaw, the result of which makes his dick strain against his shorts and stretch the fabric. Pulsing thumps vibrate through your other hand when you cup his length to still him. 
Heat finds your face as you palm the growing tent. The boy had been blessed with a toe-curling gift that shot stars into your eyes every time it sank into your core. Your dainty little hands paled in comparison to the massive limb - it was a wonder how he ever managed to fit inside you - let alone between your fingers. 
Yet, you still managed to take him so well, he thought. Stretching around him with ease, bringing curses to his mouth every time he bottomed out. Always so wet and ready for him at the simplest touch. It was more like your pussy always craved the challenge, sucking and swallowing him like a pure essence. 
“Cho.”
The words catch in his throat. “It-it’s a genome editing tool that comes from bacterial immune systems,” he wets his lips, clenching his fingers, “It uses a.. guide RNA to target specific DNA sequences and Cas9 enzyme to introduce precise changes, like a um, gene knockout or uh….insertion, in various organisms.” 
“Good boy,” you coo, pressing a plush kiss onto his lips again. He blushes red at the sound of praise. The words stimulating a part of his brain that makes him docile and dumb.
Raking nails and plump lips battle for his attention. He feels breathless at your touch. You barely had time to kiss each other before starting your mornings. And now, here you were, toying with him like a trinket.
The questions come with ease, a result of genuine curiosity and random peeks over his shoulder during long nights of cramming.
Difficulty increases as you rattle them off. The look of astonishment on Choso’s face says he didn’t know that you had been paying such close attention. You were no stranger to flashcards and practice quizzes yourself, having become accustomed to them during your undergrad studies. And though those four years may have driven you close to insanity, the habits proved permanent. And were being put to good use on your overworked boyfriend.
“Mmmm,” a thumb dances along the rim of his shorts, “What kind of stem cell research uses Patient-derived iPSCs?”
His brows furrow feeling the elastic stretch around his waist, “Umm, regenerative medicine, no, disease modeling and drug discovery.” skimming his hips sets his nerves on fire. A quick pop of the waistband sends him into outer space. The look of defeat is adorable, his glasses fogging a little. 
He was so cute, so easily coaxed into trembles from the slightest touch. 
You chuckle, nodding, “And if they can model human diseases, then?”
Searching for the solution sends him into a panic. His mouth gapes, but your fingers do not waver, pressing between his thighs, patiently awaiting his answer.
You can tell he’s overthinking it, second-guessing even. My poor baby, you think. Your eyes soften watching him. A gentle expression that reminds him why he tries at all.
With a soft tug of your thumb on his bottom lip, the answer is clear. 
 “...They can be used to help researchers save lives”.
The simplest answer is most often the best.
You smile, “Correct.” In one swoop, his shorts fall just enough to allow his dick to spring out. It slaps against his stomach, thumping against the cool air. A slick of arousal glistens from the head down to the shaft. You fixate on the lip-licking sight, hungry for a taste.
Choso’s hazy eyes are a close second; his struggle to keep them open is noticeably appetizing. The devil may be the most beautiful fallen angel, but it’d be a run for his money if Choso had wings.  
Your hands are careful to tease his length, lightly drawing long lines and circles. Pressing your fingertips into him on correct answers, slowing when he hesitates. Pure agony wouldn’t come close to describing the restraint Choso is using to keep himself grounded. 
Oh, how easy it would be for him to take you into his lap and fuck you senseless for being such a tease. To wrap his arms around your waist and bully you down onto his cock until you both gushed and mewed.
Truthfully, he was spurred on by your newfound dominance—each thump of his dick attesting to the ache and self-control he’s sustained over days of rigorous scheduling.
Tension had been building for weeks. Every encounter was filled with stolen glances and lingering touches. Brushing fingertips as you left in the morning. Sleepy hugs, that could’ve lasted longer, at the end of the day. The air was thick with a mix of desire and frustration as repressed affection hung heavy in the space between you. Every moment was a delicate balance of longing and limits.
You never considered taking matters into your own hands, literally. 
Choso was so lost in the sauce that you thought it would be cruel. 
But the way he folded under you like origami awakened something inside of you. Like fire to a flame, this newfound desire to take what you wanted was exhilarating. “Are you still with me, Cho-baby?”. 
Choso has always been known for his exceptional memory. Whether it was recalling a complex molecular chain in the lab or remembering your favorite order at all the eateries in town, he never had any issues with recollection.
But now, he was sure he would forget his own name if you asked him. His short-circuiting brain grew increasingly useless against your skilled hands. “Hmph,” pulling your bottom lip with your teeth, “No?”
Grazing his mushroom tip turns his words to mush. His stringy pre-cum is a delicious lubricant for the circles you draw. "Mmm," you moan, imagining sucking it down your throat.
With a gentle press, it spills over your thumbs, soaking your hand and eliciting another stifled moan from Choso. You grin. It’s music to your ears and hell on your soaked panties, fueling a primal hunger that intensifies with every gasp and tremble. 
Your throbbing cunt is an undeniable testament. Cursed with an insatiable need to be sopping and full.
It’s impossible for Choso not to arch into your hand, betraying his own body for more of your cunning touch—seeking more of the intoxicating pleasure only you can provide. Resisting was foolish—if you were a drug, Choso was an addict.
“Oh?” transfixing on his soft grind, “Does that feel good, Cho?” he blushes beet red, this time looking away, but you’re quick to bring him back, steadying his jaw between your fingers and instructing him not to move.
Fuck. He could cum just from the look on your pretty face towering over him, stern and seductive. “Answer me baby, use your words.”  
His lungs feel cloudy as you wrap your hand around his length, his mouth falling open in tandem as you stroke up and down his length with ease, increasing pressure from the base to the tip as if trying to coax the words out of him. How you wish you could straddle him and do the same with your pussy—use the desk for leverage and ride him into oblivion until you milked him dry.
His breath matches the rhythm of your strokes in a needy way, sending waves of electricity from your chest to your toes. You can't help but press your breasts closer, cradling his head between your pillows like a second home. “Does. This. Feel. Good?”
He swallows, “s-so good… so. fucking. good,” it drags out of him.
It was a sultry vice grip, swallowing him with your stroke, stealing his breath. His last cling to sanity was his grasp on the seat of the chair, almost turning his knuckles pale white.
Despite being the giver and not the receiver, your own arousal equally intensifies with each desperate moan, shudder, and gasp that escapes his lips—the wetness between your thighs becomes almost unbearable. Every sound consumes rational thought, only leaving a craving for more.
Forgetting your impromptu questionnaire, you decide you’d like to see how long he can go like this, having been days since your last quickie in the kitchen, hips roughly pushed into the counter as he fucked into you. The sight of you reaching into the fridge, exposing your pretty panties, brought on the occasion. And suddenly you were very familiar with the cabinets as he spread you open for a taste. You wore the bruises for days like a badge of honor for taking him as long as you did.
But now, as you rolled your thumb over his supple slit, you were sure he could come undone in a matter of seconds.
He groans feeling you suddenly lick and nip at his earlobe, your devilish thoughts from earlier coming true. You kiss heat into him, twisting your hand up and down; he twitches with every pump, ears growing hot. "Aww baby," you purr, listening to the wet sloshes of your hand. 
You bite the inside of your lip feeling your throbbing clit match the raging heartbeat in his dick. You'd slip your fingers into your soppy pussy and curl them until you came if they weren't so occupied with holding Choso's eyes on you. "You've been working so hard," you whine, "Are you gonna cum for me, Cho?" dipping down now and then to caress his balls, the squelching sounds battle for dominance over the serene Lofi beat. His only response being whimpers and a slight head nod lets you know that he’s close.
Your other hand slides down from his jaw to his throat, locking with a light squeeze. “Mmmph,” the restriction drives him closer, beginning to mindlessly pump himself into your hand. You squeeze at the base as if to milk him of all his worries. “I’m gonna…” 
“You’re gonna what?” your pressure increases on his neck, matching the growing knot in his stomach. His face flushes, but you wait for his tell. He fucks into your hand, following a string of silent curses, when you see it, that familiar thigh twitch.
His mouth falls wide open, sucking in air, “F-fuck i-i'm cu-” you shove your tongue down his throat making sure he tastes you completely, stealing the air from his lungs as he cums. His hand entangles in your hair, the orgasm cracking like lightning through him as his seed spills over your fingers, shuddering from his hips down. 
But you don't stop—continuing to pump, making sure to milk out every last drop. His pulsing dick provides a steady stream of hot spurts until his thrusts turn sloppy and his abs begin to ache. Your sloppy kiss silences his guttural moans until his eyes roll into the back of his head.
Finally, you pull away, a string of slick connecting your tongues, letting him breathe. The cool air soothes his heavy pants and heaving chest. You watch his spent face, his eyes following your fingers to your mouth as you lick them clean. The act stimulates his softening dick, adding a final spurt to the mess you’ve created on his lap.
You giggle, removing his glasses and setting them aside to plant a kiss on his forehead and blushing scar. A familiar ring chimes through the air. The sound you had become accustomed to on early mornings that started your day.
Hmm, he really was keeping up with the time, you think. 
You lean down, smiling against his cheek, “Looks like your hour is up, babe.” You rub his surely sore neck and peck it.
His hand, still grasping your hair, catches you before you can pull away. Your eyes widened at the sudden shift. You gasp when he pulls you back, meeting his gaze as his lips curl into a sinful smile—watching his dick slowly thump back to life from the corner of your eye. He leans closer and whispers in your ear, his voice raspy and dry but very, very clear.
“Yours is just starting.”
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art credit: mu_kmijj on twitter
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