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meyousing · 9 months

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𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐀 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re used to light being distant, so when he decides to lay the affection on heavy and proposes a new idea to you at the same time, you’re helplessly intrigued. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: nsfw, yandere light yagami x reader, idk if this matters to say right off the bat but you’re wearing a skirt :] also mentions of death like always lol but none fr! alsoalso this idea has probably been done to death by now but to be fair I started this A YEAR AGO!! pls enjoy despite that lol ily <3

“What is it?” his eyes sharpened as they narrowed at you from across the room, voice laced with blatant boredom. That was what you told yourself anyway, truly hoping that it was boredom and not annoyance because the look he always gave you at times like this made you cave in on yourself, instantly regretting whatever you had done to be such a bother. All that you were doing now was laying idly on his bed, legs swinging out of habit as you were on your stomach and flipping through a magazine that he had given as a pacifier. Maybe he knew that you were actually keeping your eyes on him this entire time, rather than the sheets before you.

“What do you mean?” playing dumb never worked with Light, but you would always do it anyway. It could provide a delay of the inevitable if nothing else.

You heard the tap of his pen as he dropped it on his desk, followed by the soft thud of his notebook closing before he stood from his chair. A regular notebook, you noticed, thankfully.

“Trying to outsmart me again?”

Right, his interpretation of your playing dumb was much less simple than what you intended to get across. Of course, he knew that you knew better, so your deception was instead seen as defiance; a flaunt of superiority.

“Of course not,” you shut your magazine, sliding it to the side of the bed and cringing when it slid off of the bed, crumpling up in an ironically tense pile on the floor. Surely Light wasn’t too attached to it, as he merely spared it a passing glance before casting his eyes upon you once more. Then he began to approach, making you swallow a newfound lump in your throat as you scampered back to sit up on your haunches.

“Then what is it?” he leaned over you, his hands resting at your sides with your faces inches apart. His breath was slow through his nose, soft and cold as each exhale blew onto the tip of your nose.

How to tell him that the stupid magazine didn’t pacify you at all, that only his attention could soothe you? And how embarrassing it could get if you admitted to the exact type of attention that you needed.

He began leaning closer as your mind raced, thinking of a different possible answer, but then it went entirely blank as he was close enough to brush his lips over yours. Tantalizingly, the gentlest nudge and he only did it once before pulling back slightly, you could have missed it had your brain continued thinking so hard. The sensation nearly made you crumble, a chill shooting down your spine as you inhaled and resisted the urge to wet your now trembling lips, focusing on maintaining your posture. He knew how to break you, you didn’t want him to see it happen this soon.

“Nothing” was all you could say without simply blabbering out every dirty thought plaguing your mind.

“You never stare at me like that for nothing,” he said pointedly, even adding a cheeky but very slight tilt of his head. Had your stare really been so obvious? You truly did try to be subtle. Either way, you found it humorous how he could go from cold with seemingly deadened emotions to a teaser within minutes. Finding it humorous helped you cope with how scary you knew he could be.

With the lightest shove to his chest you could muster alongside a bashful turn of your head, you tried creating some space between yourselves to alleviate the fast beating of your heart.

“Really, it’s nothing. I didn’t mean to distract you from your work…” Your hand lingered on his chest after the little push, kneading the material of his shirt idly as you hoped this excuse would suffice. This mannerism alone proved the opposite of your hopes to him.

When the full press of his lips fell upon yours in a genuine kiss this time, you knew that you had failed. Even more so when you subconsciously deepened it with a lean closer, making your grip on his shirt firmer to keep him from moving away. Though it seemed he had no intention of doing so, instead easing you down to lay your back against his mattress, crawling over you as soon as you were horizontal.

This kiss, unlike all of his others which would be quick and half-assed–your lips barely meeting before he was already turning his head away to tend to some other matter–was compassionate. One of his hands found the side of your face and he caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, his other fingers which became entangled in your hair from the placement were massaging your scalp soothingly. The sensation lulled you and had you sinking even deeper into his bed while pulling him along with you, your fingertips meeting at the back of his neck and fiddling with the ends of his hair. While this kiss was unusual, it was not unwelcome.

You didn’t know that there would be a catch to this sudden affection.

You could feel Light smirking against you, his entire aura darkening once he did, so much that you could feel it–and your reaction to such a peculiarity was communicated with a tensing of your shoulders. Upon sensing this, Light was quick to groan and prod his tongue against your bottom lip, which surprised you further and allowed him to invade your mouth. The intimate sound he let out and the way he just seemed so infatuated with you right now had your heart racing.

This moment ended almost as quickly as it started though, he pulled away from you and nudged his nose against yours. You tried not to show your disappointment, but you knew that it must have been obvious when a frown graced your lips.

“I want to try something.”

This could go in any direction. He was always so unpredictable, mood changing on a dime whether it was for better or worse.

“What’s that?” you asked with a small voice, indicative of your anxiety about the unknown. You were already playing right into his hands.

“I want to reward you for being so obedient.”

A reward? Who is this and what has he done with your Light?!

His hand on your cheek rubbed it once more before he lifted himself off of you, steadying himself with hands on your waist as he did. You remained in your place, only watching with your eyes as he leaned over to reach into his desk and a drawer.

The drawer.

You turned your head with a gulp as you watched him retrieve his arm, now holding the dreaded notebook that you had tried to shield yourself from, trying to stay ignorant for the sake of keeping your relationship peaceful with the man you couldn’t help but love.

“So long as your obedience remains the same, you’ll be rewarded. We’re going to test it right now.”

He placed the book by your hand which had fallen to your side once he moved, putting his pen between your loose fingers and adjusting it until it stayed still there without tipping over. Your limbs had frozen, so it was no tough feat for him. You were shocked even further when Light’s expression altered somewhat once he actually took notice of how tense you were. Last you could remember, he couldn’t care less when your discomfort was so obvious.

“It really is going to be rewarding for you. Don’t you trust me?”

He always had to ask you that. How much more obvious could you be about your unequivocal devotion to him, your infinite trust? You’d been by his side all this time, yet he would still ask, nearly daily, most commonly before asking you to do something that you didn’t want to do. As if anyone else would remain with him when finding out his secret, and he still doubted you.

“You know I do.” You murmured, fingers twitching around the cold pen in your grasp.

“Then at least hear me out” he chuckled dryly, not with any sense of legitimate humour. You tried to be subtle as you swallowed the lump in your throat, having heard such an impatient laugh come from him countless times before.

“This won’t be going away any time soon,” he patted the notebook, “and I can tell that you won’t be either. I mean, as long as you keep following along with me, here.” He glimpsed at you differently then, as if his eyes were asking you to challenge that statement.

You only nodded. Light grinned.

“Good.”

His fingers moved to peel open the book, and you glanced away from it as he skimmed past so many pages that were filled from margin to margin with names. The crisp sounds of paper brushing together stopped once he found a blank one.

Your eyes stayed on him, and you could feel some burning bile churn and slosh around in your gut as a little smirk pulled at his lips. His eyes darkened when they met yours.

His free hand, which was out of your line of sight, traced the waistband of your skirt. You flinched slightly in surprise, and Light’s smirk widened as he leaned closer to you.

“Write your name.”

Despite being unmoving already, you froze even further, stiffening like a stone and watching him desperately, trying to detect any hint of jesting in his demand. But the wickedness surrounding Light was unrelenting; he meant what he said.

“What?” you asked quietly, needing to hear it again to really believe that he meant it.

“Start writing your name. Trust me, won’t you?”

“I-I do–”

“I know. So do it.” Light’s tone was more firm now.

You could only hold your breath when your eyes flitted over to your hand, your fingers readjusting the pen as you tried to point it toward the paper. The book itself felt alive, you could sense its unreal gaze–like it was taunting you, mocking and laughing at you, tempting you to write, and calling you a coward if you dared to show any hesitation because it shouldn’t be that hard.

Having been with Light for so long now, you fully understood the notebook’s functionality. Knowing that, would it really be so crazy if you were being a coward about this?

“Any time now, love” Light’s voice became impatient, and when you looked up at him, his kneeling posture was equivalent to being on the edge of his seat. He looked like he could implode had you made it this far and chose to back out now, he was so eager. You’d hate to disappoint him, even if his little pet name for you was clearly insincere.

Your body went cold and numb once you pushed the tip of the pen against the page, watching the smallest droplet of dark ink soak into the lines. Your hand remained stagnant following this, and you spared a short glance up at Light, noting how his eyes were stuck on the pen. You took in a breath, holding it and letting your lungs fill so you’d become a little lightheaded–a little less aware of this horrible reality–before moving further with utmost reluctance to drag the tool, lining the shape of the first letter in your name.

You could hear Light exhaling as you finally did. You couldn’t let out that breath of your own just yet. Maybe your cause of death would be suffocation, then.

Your focus was ripped away from the note in an instant once you felt a cold fingertip trace over your clit from above your panties, making your body jolt as you met eyes with Light. He wasn’t looking at you yet, only doing so once you stopped writing.

“Go on. I’m staying true to my word.” To emphasize this, he pressed down against your clit again, his push firm but gentle–leaving you on the cusp of craving more as the sensation gave you chills, yet also sent heat through your lower half.

So pathetically, that small second of pleasure was enough to incentivize a continuation, and you managed to finish printing that very first letter.

“Good…”

He resumed what he had been doing, gently circling your bud and using the advantage of that added layer from your panties to optimize the friction; encouraging you. You could feel the way that you were starting to get wet, soaking the material and only making such movements smoother for Light.

You paused as the feeling grew slightly more intense, coping, and your pause made Light do the same. You two were playing a little game, it seemed, and you obviously didn’t want it to stop–you had to keep going. You had wanted him minutes before this, after all, and you were finally getting what you craved.

Letter two manifested; your grip on the writing utensil weakened as he pulled your panties aside to touch your skin directly.

You shuddered from the sudden cool air that brushed along your exposed skin, and he dragged some of your slick up from your pussy, using it to make rubbing into your clit that much easier, that much more pleasurable. Your limbs shuddered and you had to breathe out a more vocal huff of air in exasperation, your lungs aching while your muscles tensed in delight from Light’s direct tending to such newfound sensitivity.

You remained paused with your eyes shut firmly as you became accustomed to the bliss that he inflicted. Light, seeming to understand exactly what he was doing to you, was a bit more forgiving now–continuing his ministrations even when you stopped, but not changing his pace or furthering the intensity enough for those feelings to grow, to bring you closer to any type of climax. It still made you moan though; still made your heart skip a beat and made your walls tighten around nothing.

Perhaps you had been successfully swindled into playing with fire because now your mind understood a simple formula; if you wanted more, you had to keep writing. Would he let you come if you wrote your entire name down?

Would you even feel the aftershocks of your release before you died?

The prospect of death hit your lust-fogged mind like a truck, and your eyes shot open–that slowly building knot in your abdomen became a tightrope clenching out of fear rather than anticipation. This was a death note, and you were already on track to penning yourself down within it.

Light could sense your change in stature and returned his gaze to your face once again. His hand slowed, but it was as if he could detect your worry and didn’t want to let you succumb to it–he wanted to keep you within the cusp of pleasure, to keep you malleable and submissive to his desires, not whatever lies your mind was telling you. So he kept touching you.

“You know that you can’t stop now that you’ve started, right?” He looked cocky, like he had you right where he wanted you. And it seemed that he did, because now with such confusion and so many conflicting feelings plaguing you, you weren’t sure about that–could you back out now? Was the damage already done now that your first name was almost down entirely?

Your drying lips parted as if to ask, but you couldn’t find your voice. Light let out a short, dry laugh and nodded his head, his face inches away from yours, like he fucking knew.

“Mhm. You have to keep going, now. You’d better hurry, too. You know that there’s a time limit… don’t you?”

Your lungs were burning and your hips squirmed as he traced his fingers around your core, swirling them within your copious wetness and gently prodding his fingers, hardly getting inside of you, yet you still writhed from the sensitivity of such a precise, close touch.

You shook your head deliriously in delayed response to his words and all Light did was nod his own head toward the book again. Suddenly you were reminded of the pen in your grasp which had now absorbed the growing heat from your palm; hot to the touch.

Noting that apparent time limit, you felt your heart thrumming as it raced and you started writing again. The pace of your fingers scraping the pen back and forth was a little quicker than before, yet you couldn’t shake that lingering hesitance even while knowing that you really should have been rushing. Light hummed as he watched, nonchalantly pushing a finger inside of you as you progressed, which made a whiny sound catch in your throat, and made your back lift slightly off the bed.

Your arm trembled and your chicken scratch ceased again, but Light knew that he had you, because you hurried to carry on with haste once more, and he didn’t bother to stop stroking inside of you anymore. He even slid in another finger following the last time he pulled out, the added thickness made your thighs attempt to close from the new nerve-tingling pleasure that it gave, even despite the way that his body between your legs kept you nice and open for him.

“Please,” you bartered, voice muffled and representative of the state you were in; wholly weak. He grinned and kept going, his body solid in its place on top of you, forcing you to take it even as his skilled fingers overwhelmed you so deliciously. You wanted the end result now–you wanted to come, to feel that sweet release by his hand.

Light initiated this entire thing, he set his rules, and you knew that finishing wouldn’t happen just like that, because it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Please what, Y/N? You already know what you have to do. Don’t play stupid.”

The little jab at the end hurt only a little bit, making your stomach drop, making you feel as stupid as he said–but his fingertips rubbed along and pressed into your sweet spot which made you whimper, and that feeling was all you could focus on now; remedying the sting of the insult with the soothing cradle of his fingers. Oh, how successfully he was able to distract you and change the path of your thoughts once again. You could hardly bring yourself to care about such blatant manipulation, because release was getting closer and closer, and that was all you wanted.

You couldn’t even tell if the pen was pressing into the paper hard enough to leave any writing behind at all; your hand was hardly moving because your eyes remained shut in elation, and you chose to squeeze the pen in your fist as you coped with his touch, but Light just seemed content with the fact that you were resuming any transfer of penmanship at all. He was certainly rewarding you as he promised, keeping his fingers inside of you until his knuckles pushed into the plush of your pussy lips, and they rocked into you so good that you could almost feel that hard pressure in your stomach.

It was starting to become too much–you knew how close you were getting, but you didn’t know if that’s what Light wanted. He liked to be in control of most things in his life, and you were at the very top of that list.

“I-I can’t, I’m gonna–”

A gasp-like mewl left you once you felt a hot, wet stroke against your clit at the same time that Light pushed rather hard against your g-spot, holding his fingers there and making you squirm. Your eyes shot open and you craned your neck off of the mattress to look down, watching as his lips closed around your clit and sucked it into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. Your entire body shuddered, it was so intense that you had to try and pull away, but he wasn’t having it, using his free hand to pin your hip down and keep you still.

“Light,” you whined, a warning to him that he was pleasing you too well too quickly, you were about to come and you were hardly finished with writing down your first name.

His eye contact only became bolder, he didn’t relent, if anything he was trying to get more out of you; intent on making you come now. He hadn’t instructed you otherwise, so you felt safe enough to finally give in–with a weak, raspy whimper you felt yourself release that buildup of desire, your vision turning into static behind closed lids as your body writhed and churned even while he kept you down, putting himself against you with more force. Your hips rocked into his mouth to ride out every last remnant of your orgasm until you felt no more, the only sound that you could hear was your own heavy breathing and Light’s last few caresses against your audibly sopping wet pussy.

Light moved off of you slowly, and you noted that his eyes were trained on the book rather than your body that now glistened with a light sheen of sweat. Before you could say anything to him (but even then, what could you say?), his eyes scanned over the page and your writing while he nonchalantly wiped your release off of his fingers, onto the material of your skirt.

You followed his line of sight and looked over your work, seeing how scribbled and disastrous it was. You had probably produced better writing back in kindergarten.

Now that your heat had finally been tended to, however; your arousal sated, you blinked a few times, then realized exactly what you were looking at: part of your name, written in the death note.

What about the time limit? Was your first name enough to make it work either way? Your heart began to race and so did your breathing–were these the side effects of the incoming, inevitable heart attack?!

I suppose the cause wasn’t suffocation after all, a fleeting voice said so sarcastically in the back of your head, making you grimace. You propped yourself up on your elbows in a panic and your eyes flew back to Light, who was still skimming over the page with a look of maintained scrutiny. He was so… calm. Were you not about to die? Did he not care?

“That’s a good start,” he murmured, reaching out to trace his index finger (the one that wasn’t just buried in you to the hilt) along the shaky lines that hardly resembled any of the alphabet.

“Wha–” You could only heave the word out since it felt like your heart was beating in your throat, though your body gradually relaxed as Light seemed completely neutral to the situation. The longer that he did nothing, the more time passed, and you realized that… you were still here.

When silence fell completely between both of you, Light looked over with such casualty that you felt like none of what just happened even did.

“If we can get to your last name next time, too, maybe I’ll actually fuck you.” He slid off the bed as he spoke, his tone so normal as if he was just talking to you about the weather, making your jaw drop. He grabbed the book and closed it, walking over to the drawer and taking his sweet time ensuring that it was properly put away.

All you could do was lay there in silent disbelief, watching him with wide eyes while he acted like nothing even happened.

“I’m fine, then?” you asked, your voice firmer and a little louder than normal, more demanding for direct answers. Light glanced over at you and laughed coldly, standing up straight once the drawer was closed once again, his hands on his hips lazily.

“I like that you’re a little dumb, Y/N. It makes things like this more exciting, don’t you think?”

Before you could respond verbally–only able to scoff for now–Light turned to leave the room, murmuring a nearly inaudible “I’ll get some water” before the door closed behind him. His muffled footsteps became more distant as he descended downstairs, isolating you to the top floor.

Helplessly flumping back against the bed, you stared at the ceiling, reliving everything that had just happened in a mental state that you imagined neurosis to feel like. Although, you didn’t have to worry for long… you would get used to it. You understood that this was not going to be the first time something like this would happen, Light was truly only getting started with you.

#✧meyou #✧musinghxhmasterlist #death note #light yagami #death note fanfiction #death note x reader #yagami light #light x reader #light yagami x reader #light yagami smut #light yagami x you #light yagami x y/n #death note x you #i hope this doesn't have any typos lmao i'm sorry if this comeback sux

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meyousing · 9 months

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𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠, ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: gojo is always, always getting the wrong idea when it comes to your needs, and worries that you express, but it's just so difficult to correct someone who never thinks that they can be wrong. 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: yandere gojo x reader, nsfw, mentions of past kidnapping/captivity, cheating and manipulation. all sexual nsfw under the cut! <3

Three docile raps against the bedroom door, surely muffled to his ears on the other side from the sheer gentleness of your knuckles, if he was even nearby to begin with. It was almost as if you didn’t want to grab his attention, but you couldn’t wait much longer, these same four walls were beginning to drive you stir-crazy, and the ugly plush toys that he provided months ago could only entertain you for so long.

“Mhm?” You heard him hum, followed by a quiet thud that you imagined coming from his leaning against the door.

You jolted softly in surprise, not expecting him to be right there so soon. But you could easily see it; his lazy posture as his torso went limp against the wood like a petulant child–he certainly portrayed the immaturity of one most days. Even as he hummed you could detect a smirk on his lips; promptly shutting your eyes to block out that mental image and how mocking it felt even without the direct intent to.

“I need to pee” you lied, picking at your fingernails and twisting the material of your nightgown nervously, hoping the falsehood would suffice and he would relieve you of the suffocating claustrophobia brought on by this unchanging environment.

Eventually, you began to understand that Gojo liked having you here as his little side piece; he saw you as nothing more than a pretty plaything, to keep only for himself, even though you were certain that he made time within his busy, busy schedule to partake in his own trysts with all kinds of other people–your thoughts were only made so much worse when he would come home smelling blatantly of another person’s fragrance, or looking a little more dishevelled than he normally should have, even after a genuinely busy, action-filled day.

You, on the other hand, were just too pretty to be shared or merely ogled at because he just knew that anyone with eyes would try and claim you for themselves–you had to stay stowed away here, with him, because that could not happen. Yet, that hadn't ever happened back when the Gojo that you knew was actually rational. Nobody had ever approached you when they could very clearly see you two walking hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm, so how could you truly grasp the likelihood of someone else ‘claiming’ you? That would have to be a possibility left entirely to mystery; a thought for you to dwell on for hours when there was nothing else to do while alone in this room.

Having at least expected a verbal response before the door opened, you stumbled back helplessly as he swung it out suddenly, pressing his weight into the grip he had on the doorknob and standing before you. Your eyes slowly moved up to his, noting the lack of eyewear and cursing the way your stomach knotted when the natural attraction of his features drew you in like a lamb. Of course, the smirk that you suspected him to have was evident–even widening as he noticed your roaming eyes and the way you paused upon the sight of him. As if he wasn’t cocky enough.

“Are you sure?” He asked mischievously–enragingly.

“Yes.” You tried to watch your tone, tried not to mutter the word in a way that portrayed how annoyed you were from this already too-long interaction that was intended to be as short as possible. But you knew that there was a semblance of snark in the way that your pronunciation of the last letter was rather sharp; a short hiss behind your teeth.

Gojo’s head tilted playfully and his eyebrows lifted, as if his face on its own was saying “I don’t think so!” while he leaned in closer to you, bent at the hips so his nose was immediately before yours without reducing his posture too much. Arrogant.

“I don’t think so,” he retorted lowly. Oh, how much better that he actually said the words too, joining the silence of his expression! You resisted the urge to snarl at him as you made the connection, growing impatient.

“I think I would know if I had to pee, Gojo.”

“Nope.” The way he popped the letter p as he said that made you cringe away, yet he was unrelenting; “I know exactly what you’re trying to do.” His smirk graduated into a grin, and he spoke oh-so confidently.

Your eyes widened only slightly. You weren’t technically doing anything wrong, at least not that badly just yet; lying to him about needing to use the bathroom when you truly didn’t. But he managed to instill guilt within you, making you feel bad for doctoring the truth. How could you go about asking him to just let you out of here for a bit without imagining him taking offence? Or being met with an immediate no, which would crush your spirit too soon. Your mind was still relatively strong even after being here for what felt like quite a while, and you wanted to hold onto that.

“You’d know ‘if you had to’ which means you don’t really need to. So… what is it? What do you really need from me?” He continued and leaned even closer, his words so playfully murmured in such near proximity to you.

He was getting the wrong idea. You knew this, but he was stubborn and thought he knew better than you at the best of times, so if you didn’t rush to convince him a bit harder without admitting the blunt truth, you’d be fucked.

“I-I need to use the bathroom, please,” you said quickly, unable to control the little stutter and immediately seeking a change in his gaze to see if he caught on.

Of course, he did, chuckling softly under his breath and closing his eyes as he did. You’d only dug yourself deeper.

He stepped forward and you stepped back, effectively trapping yourself between him and the wall behind you as he subtly kicked the bedroom door closed. You felt your throat swell as his hands slid into his pockets, the newfound silence weighing down heavily upon the two of you. Gojo couldn’t help but remedy that quickly; couldn’t help but keep talking.

“I know you too well, Y/N. I think you’re feeling something else down there that you’re a little too shy to outright ask for, aren’t you?”

No, no, no. Absolutely not.

“N-No–” You struggled to say this out loud though, and that one moment of hesitation did you in. When dealing with someone who always thought that they had the right answer to everything, there wasn’t much you could do anyway.

“Of course, you won’t admit it to me.” He threw his hands up nonchalantly as if he were just a little exasperated with your apparent reluctance. “I’ve already told you to stop acting so shy… I mean, it’s cute and all, but I like hearing it from you. Doesn’t it feel dirty to be so honest with one another?”

His arms crossed over his chest and he simpered down at you again, taking your lack of a verbal response as a sign of that alleged shyness you seemed to have.

“Ask me. I want to hear you say it.”

You remained still and your eyes stayed widely trained on him, unwavering despite your internal rage at the way he was so confidently wrong. What’s worse is how you were stuck now, and whatever would follow was inevitable. Would it be easier to just go along with it, despite the way that the mere idea of that was sickening?

“I…” you started but failed to continue when you could see how he watched you in a way that felt rhetorical, like he ‘knew’ that you would just be ‘too shy’ to get the words out. So, so annoying. This was proven further by how he could only giggle and give you no time to finish a word before chiming in once more.

“You…” He drew the word out as you paused, “...caught me in a good mood.”

Was this statement supposed to preface his decision to suddenly whisk you into his arms and escort you the short few steps to the bed? After placing you down there, he wasted no time in getting on top of you, knocking your knees open with his thighs so he could slot his body between them with enforced ease. Now he was too near. You could cope with his intimidating tilts closer while you stood inches apart without distance ever being shut all the way, but the feeling of his clothed chest rubbing against yours now was a bit much; too indicative of what you could only dread to imagine coming next. Your heart began to race, and he could feel it.

“Aw, you still can’t help but get a little nervous being with me, can you? How cute, really.”

While his tone was playful, the flash of sin that slid over his gaze didn’t go unnoticed, and sent an anxious chill down your spine. You couldn’t even find room to retort, instantly feeling your muscles go taut once his long fingers traced up your side, slipping under the material of your gown with an ease that came naturally. He felt the way that you tensed, and you felt a twinge of regret for your decision to go braless earlier when his fingertips glided over to your breast so he could tease your nipple, staring into your eyes as he did–watching for a reaction.

The sensitivity inflicted by such a tender caress made your breath catch. When envisioning your fate before; when you had been caught so soon within your lie, you knew that you were done for but you hadn’t imagined that you’d be fucked so literally–grunting softly in uncharacteristic frustration when he pulled away for a moment.

He raised an eyebrow upon hearing the sound, suppressing a chuckle as his hands moved down to grab the bottom of your gown and start pulling it off of you. You couldn’t help but assist him, keeping your gaze aside so you wouldn’t have to see the knowing look he was surely giving. It was so awful, so horrible that rather than feeling sickened by going along with it, you could only feel internal anticipation. External as well, you supposed, given your lack of hesitation with helping him get you bare. You followed along with ease, like the lost, unguided puppy that he always made you out to be.

“Rest assured, I’m all yours,” he said with a tone that you knew he intended to make sound genuine, though there was something underlying within it, like he didn’t really mean what he said at all. He would still screw around on you, fuck other people then come home and assert himself over you, disallowing you to even think about doing the same thing, to even think about other people. You felt yourself grimace as you thought about this, frowning while your nightgown was fully lifted up and off of you. He took notice of your expression, and rather than showing concern, he displayed intrigue.

“Do you not believe me, baby?” was muttered with a ridiculously babied tone that you hated when he used it.

Ugh, stop with that. No. You didn’t believe him. But what would happen if you said that? There was rarely ever room for you to be defiant, Gojo had way too much power over you in so many ways that your obedience went without question, and you didn’t want to find out what he would do if you ever deviated. But right now it felt different—you had a very, very small window of opportunity. For once, you felt compelled to take it.

“I don’t.”

He hardly raised his eyebrows, only looking mildly surprised; as if he wasn’t very surprised at all. It was unnerving… what, had he expected you to say that? He, who was so used to hearing immediate fan-girly-toned exclamations of 'Yes, Gojo!', wasn’t even a little shocked by this? He lifted himself off of you a bit, your lower bodies still mostly in contact while he supported himself with hands gripped easily upon your knees.

“Well, why not?” A finger drummed idly against your perched leg, soft reverberations resonating through your femur, making you twitch slightly as the air and room surrounding you two began to feel heavier, and more tense. His tone itself was neither heavy nor tense, yet you felt a sense of dread anyway due to the unknown. Gojo had way too much power over you in so many ways that your obedience went without question. What would happen if he didn’t like what you had to say? You figured that he would certainly dislike a hesitant response after expressing such an atypical opinion, so with that added pressure you sputtered out the first thing that came to your mind, muttered like an absolute fool:

“Y-You always come home smelling like some cheap perfume, and I’ve seen lipstick marks on you before that obviously couldn’t have been from me!” You rambled this like a little outburst, sounding like you were finally relieving yourself from the burden of a thought that’s been weighing on your consciousness.

It only made Gojo smile. Not his usual cocky grin or his knowing little smirk, but a genuine, horribly attractive smile.

“You don’t have to be jealous.”

Of fucking course. You weren’t jealous, per se, you just felt that your being kidnapped and isolated into one room of his house while he forbade you from interacting with any other person may have been a bit unfair when he, on the other hand, could come home all leisurely with extremely blatant evidence of–at the very least–some foreplay-equivalent contact with other people all over his skin and his clothes, if you were to be so presumptuous. How to say this to someone who is so selectively dense, though?

“It’s not that–”

He shut you up with a kiss, so it didn’t matter. It was a kiss that was neither messy nor rushed like his typical first resort when he wanted a quick fuck, but rather one that was too precise as he tilted his head to deepen it and eased his body back down on top of yours again. His hands slid down the tops of your thighs so he could hold you against him with the utmost affection at his fingertips. It made you shiver, you couldn’t help it. You also couldn’t help the way that you seemed to return his kiss, even as your body remained a bit wound from such an unusual situation and sensation. He pulled back slowly, intimately, almost causing you to follow his movement to prolong the moment. You weren’t dishevelled enough yet for that, but with Gojo, there was always a way for him to gain your reception eventually.

“Honesty, Y/N.” His voice was a little raspier when he spoke. It sent something hot through you, and you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat when his eyes stared into yours, so heavily lidded, yet you could still see their gorgeous hue peeking through his depigmented lashes. You couldn’t shy away this time, because he was so close and on display. You also still couldn’t find a way to deny your natural attraction to him, unable to avoid falling victim to it in every instance similar to this. But now, with his intentional tenderness, it was that much more difficult–you were so much more malleable, you could tell.

His demand for honesty made you nod in obedience. This, in turn, made him grin and bring a hand off of your leg so he could run it through your hair.

“It’s really cute, you know, how you couldn’t outright ask me for this.” His fingers caressed your cheek before gliding down to your neck with a feather-light touch. “But I’m looking forward to the day when you can.”

His hand remained light, hovering above your ever-rising pulse while he brushed his lips against yours without fully connecting them for a second time. Your breath shuddered when he did this–why did you feel such immense disappointment when he didn’t kiss you again?

You couldn’t understand what kind of influence he managed to inflict upon you this time, what was so different at this moment–how it drove you to lean up and close that gap to your liking, satisfying the suddenly dire need to feel the plush of his soft lips properly. This managed to surprise Gojo, and he chuckled against you, his hand pressing down further on your skin only so he could stroke it, not adding much pressure for now. He waited until you had your fill, kissing you back until your neck unhinged and you rested against the pillow on your own time. You were the one to pull away, accompanied by a little smooch sound once you two parted fully.

“Better.” His tone was one of satisfaction, him evidently taking this as your reception to his wish for more incentive on your part; more honesty.

His hand was faster than you expected when you felt it return to your breast, tweaking an exposed nipple with a bit more force than before, causing a whimper to catch in your throat as you subconsciously arched into the rougher touch. This flustered you, and he took advantage of your state by bringing his free hand between your legs, lifting his hips off of yours so he could slide your panties aside. You only realized this had happened once a small bit of air brushed along your growing wetness, making you shiver and look up at him in mild surprise. He could only offer a conniving grin.

“You want me to touch you here, don't you?” His question was further punctuated by the tracing of his index and middle fingers up and down your pussy lips–not touching anywhere that would stimulate you yet, even in spite of how this still made you shiver. He wanted you to say it, to admit it, to outright ask. You were unfortunate enough to be getting so worked up by mere foreplay that you could no longer find it in yourself to even try and deny him, not when he looked down at you so knowingly. Like always.

“Y-Yes” you admitted it with a quiet tone, sounding just as shy as he kept making you out to be. Maybe he was right after all, which bothered you. Feeling bothered hardly lasted though, because the immediate gratification from two of his slender fingers pushing into you made your breath catch and your thighs twitch.

“Good.”

The short replies were odd for Gojo; he who could hardly go a moment without yapping every thought bobbing around in his seemingly empty but deceptively intelligent mind. You were left to believe that such immediate responses were all he could muster while he analyzed you, taking in every bit of information that he could; your physical responses to each unique touch, the pace at which you would reply, how much mental clarity you had left–in other words, the state of malleability you were in. It seemed that you had become putty in his hands now, quite literally.

It took him no time to find your sweet spot, and his allowance for your time to adjust was minuscule once he began to stroke it with intent. Your body stiffened due to the infliction of such immediately intense pleasure, but it seemed that he was only laying it on heavy to act as a distraction. It worked, because you didn’t hear the shuffling sounds of material being slid down, and your eyes had fallen shut for a few seconds in bliss so you couldn’t see the way that he took a second to align himself with your pussy before pushing his cock in alongside his fingers. The intrusion made you gasp, your eyes shooting open to confirm the sight of him penetrating you in such a way. He caught your eyes with a chuckle and a devious little smirk, teasingly rutting his hips into you for a moment so there would be greater pressure applied now, making your body shake helplessly.

“I’d never fuck anyone else like this, you’re special to me baby.”

He failed miraculously if that was meant to act as some sort of consolation towards your earlier expressed doubts of his loyalty. But you didn’t care about having your woes consoled as much as you would if you were in a clearer mind state, because the feeling of him now pushing deeply in and out of you right now was too good, too satisfying toward the arousal he had managed to build up within, even after you had started this interaction off with no such feelings, none other than annoyance and impatience. Now, you craved more; you craved release. That was all you cared for.

He rocked his hips in a way that was so precise, the blunt tip of his cock pushed his fingers harder into you and each meaningful thrust made you feel positively numb, made your mind grow delirious as he was all you could focus on. You could only wonder how it may have felt for him, though he showed no extra indications of enjoyment aside from his breaths coming out more ragged than those he exhaled previously.

Not much time passed before you somewhat adjusted to the feeling, your thighs trembled around him yet he maintained a pace that was just enough to keep you on the cusp of a crest, each thrust he gave was accompanied by soft moans of need from your throat. He tutted after you moaned a bit louder and gave him an exasperated look; your eyes communicating a silent plea for more.

“So greedy now, maybe your change of heart wasn’t so good after all” he teased, but before you could form any response he leaned down to kiss you in that same intimate way as he did moments before, thrusting into you a little faster and groaning against your lips at the same time. His own sound of pleasure sent something down your spine, made you squeeze around him, and you didn’t resist as he went to press his tongue into your mouth. You brought shaky hands up to his shoulders, holding onto them and taking the material of his shirt within your grasp as you became more and more worked up, needing an outlet to exert your buildup of elation against.

As his mouth continued to caress yours, you gasped around his tongue when his thumb which was attached to the hand buried inside of you snuck against your clit, nudging it in time with each bump of his cock inside of you. The addition of sensations finally gave you that extra push, and as you pulled his shirt into your fists and clenched your pussy around him tightly; you finally came, hips squirming and back arching as each wave of delight washed over you. Gojo’s lips stayed on yours as you did, and he matched each writhe of your body to their fullest, maximizing how you felt with his body too. Amidst such a fuzzy state of body and mind, you could vaguely feel his hips stuttering against you before his warmth flooded into your womb, making your body feel even hotter, and forming a knot of risky excitement in your stomach as he chose to stay buried in you even as he finished too.

When you ever-so-slowly recovered from the high, unlike any you had experienced before, he too moved slowly, except for the way that he pulled back from the kiss. He did it differently than the last; the previous was intimate from start to finish, but his departure now was rushed, as if he was timing it intentionally–ensuring that you were still in that blissed-out state of mind so you wouldn’t be able to question the depth of his next words:

“Now… you can stop questioning who I see, and what I do in a day.”

You heard what he said, sure, but your primary focus was on regaining proper breaths, in and out, while your lower body still twitched and tingled in the delicious aftermaths from such a tall height of ecstasy. So, you didn’t really hear what he said. You even nodded along with him like an idiot, tossing an arm over your forehead as you favoured focusing on slowing down your rapid heartbeat. You couldn’t see it, but he smiled in satisfaction and took another moment to get a good look at you and your vulnerability. Then you felt him leaving your body, a muted whine of dismay hiding behind your lips as you felt so empty now, aside from the sensation of thick heat from his release as it pooled at your entrance, threatening to spill out if you moved an inch.

“Seeya!”

Your eyes hardly opened as you looked up in confusion, and all you caught was the sight of his back as he closed the door behind him post-exiting the room–noting how he managed to fully dress up again in what must have been only a few seconds. The familiar click of the lock being instated rang out quickly, with his distancing footsteps growing even quicker; hasty, as if he had somewhere very important to be now.

Was he off to meet someone else, perhaps? No bother to you, at least not yet. This was becoming a regular occurrence, him touching and filling you until you were reduced to a breathless mess, then leaving you with your thoughts, and the feeling of recovery following such rapture soon warping into bile-stirring regret; making you sick to your stomach after you realized that he had somehow hypnotized you into letting him use your body, as if there weren’t countless others he would be doing the same thing to later if he hadn’t already within that same day. He would make you feel so special, and tell you things you must have wanted to hear, yet it was all for naught when you understood that you were just part of a category for him–you were nothing special.

Fortunately, you were still latching onto those final moments where you could feel remnants of exaltation, so the inevitability of those woes you’d soon care so much for was put on hold… for now.

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