#my heart belongs to you fic

[sashaisready]

Your Heart Belongs to Me - Part Two

Sheriff Lee Bodecker x Female Reader (The Devil All The Time)

In late-1960s Knockemstiff, your husband Lee has been neglecting you for so long that you're starved of affection. Trapped in your domestic prison, could the young handyman working on your house be your ticket to freedom?

Warnings: smut/sexual references (light), angst, extramarital affairs, alcohol and drug use, alcoholism, some rough handling of female character by male character. Lee is quite dark in this story so please use caution.

Story Masterlist

Part 1

You sighed as Lee asked you again who H might be. You weren’t going to keep up the pretence any longer.

“You already know. He just had a little crush, Lee. It was nothing. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like this” you told him defiantly, your exasperated tone masking the fear you felt underneath.

“Is that so?” asked Lee as he inspected the paper.

“Yes” you replied sourly, drying the plates and putting them back in the cupboard.

“Then why’d you keep the note?” he asked coyly. “Why did you hide it in your dresser? Imagine my surprise when I was tryin’ to find my cufflinks and stumbled across a love note to my wife from another man”.

“Like you give a shit” you spat.

His hand gripped your wrist and he span you around to face him. “Look at me” he growled.

Your heart was pounding when you saw his face, his eyes were ablaze with anger and his jaw tight. His nostrils were flared as his chest rose and fell. He was incensed.

But so were you now. You’d had enough.

“You’re hurting me” you replied calmly.

“When did you fuck him?” he muttered through gritted teeth.

You were frightened of him, but you also had nothing left to give. Your energy reserves were depleted. Finally, you’d had enough.

You dropped his gaze and coolly wrenched your wrist from his firm grip before spinning on your heel and heading to the stairs.

He grabbed your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me” he barked as his fingers dug hard into your arms. “Answer the question”.

“Let go of me” you told him bluntly, staring at him audaciously. Your body trembled and blood thumped in your ears but your anger was fuelling you.

“You gonna hit me, Lee?” you snapped as you looked into his dark eyes. “Huh? Just get it over with. I don’t care anymore”.

He’d never hit you before, but you’d had many close calls.

He snarled, easing his grip off you and then staring back at you in horror. He had never seen you like this. It had completely caught him off guard.

This wasn’t how he thought this was going to go, he couldn’t understand how you’d managed to turn this around on him.

You took this moment of confusion to run up the stairs. You pulled your suitcase from the closet and began to pack.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” Lee yelled as he stormed in behind you.

“I’m leaving you, Lee” you told him sharply as you chucked random clothes into the case. You didn’t even know what you were packing.

“You’re leaving me?” he scoffed. “You fuck another man and you’re leaving me??”

You silently continued to pack, ignoring him. He suddenly wrestled you onto to the bed, pinning you hard against the mattress as you began to scream.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetness” he bellowed as you struggled against him. You tried to kick and hit your way out of his grip but it was no use, he was too strong. His heavy body straddled you and pressed your wrists into the sheets.

“Tell me, now!” he shouted in your face.

Finally, drained from fighting you began to sob, wailing and allowing yourself to go limp. “Please, Lee…I can’t anymore. I can’t”.

His expression changed from anger to confusion as he watched your tears fall. “Wha-”

“I’m not happy, Lee. I can’t do it anymore. Please just let me go, please. I know you’d be happier without me too”.

“What??” he exclaimed. “Honey, I love you”.

You shook your head from side to side. “No…no you don’t. You’re never here” you uttered between sobs. “You would rather prop up the bar than be with me. Or be with whores. Don’t deny it again Lee…I’ve seen the lipstick marks, found the stains on your underwear. I’m not stupid”.

His eyes widened as he stammered to find words but you continued. You couldn’t stop.

“You don’t talk to me. You don’t pay attention to me. You don’t FUCK me. Y-you broke my record player and didn’t even replace it, and you know how much my records mean to me. I’m all alone by myself most of the time and I can’t even dance anymore” you cried. “You took my music from me”.

Lee gasped, unhanding your wrists as he lent back onto his knees. You trembled between his thighs. Everything had just come tumbling out and you couldn’t stop it.

“Jesus...honey” he said softly.

“Just let me go, please” you pleaded.

“So Harry was…” he trailed off.

You nodded as your bottom lip wobbled. “It only happened once. I’m sorry, Lee. I’ve just been so lonely. He was so attentive, he listened to me. He even danced with me. Y-you…haven’t done any of those things in so long” you whispered.

His expression was impossible to read but you flinched, covering your face in case he lashed out. Instead, he just climbed off of you and began pacing the bed. He looked shellshocked.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he spluttered.

You shook your head, cowering on the bed as Lee’s face fell into his hands.

“Oh fuck. Oh Jesus” he mumbled. “Was it here?” he asked calmly.

“No” you whispered. “We went for a drive in his truck, when you had poker night” you said sheepishly.

Lee pressed his head against the wall. “Fuck”.

“C’mon, you don’t get to act all high and mighty - you cheat on me all the goddamn time” you growled at him, finding your anger again.

He turned to you, aghast. “Not like this” he said weakly. “I know I’ve fucked up before sweetness but it never meant anything. It was just sex. This wasn’t just sex” he said venomously.

“You’re a hypocrite” you spat. “You fuck whores in your car all the time. You won’t even fuckin’ TOUCH me. You don’t get the moral high ground here”.

Lee stared at you, he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He knew you were right.

You sprang off the bed and continued packing.

“Stop that” he growled, yanking the case from your hands and flinging it to the floor. You shoved him and snatched it back again.

He was panting now, his rage building.

You paused for a moment as a glint of metal from his pocket revealed his car keys, your eyes darted to them for just a second, but he spotted it.

“Don’t even fuckin’ think about it” he warned.

But you were so far gone now you didn’t care. All you felt was anger and contempt, your fear had dissipated. You no longer had anything to lose.

You managed to snatch the keys from his pocket and made it halfway down the stairs before he caught you, tackling you to the ground as your body slumped across the steps beneath him. You howled as he tried to rip the keys from your clenched fist and you pushed your other hand’s outstretched fingers against his face to move him away. He responded by restraining your wrists against the stair and locking your hips between his strong thighs. You squirmed and flopped uselessly beneath him, he grunted as he held you in place – his teeth bared.

Your furious eyes met, your faces so near that your noses were nearly touching. You realised you hadn’t been this physically close to him in a long time and took a second to inhale his familiar scent. His weight on top of you was stifling yet you couldn’t believe it transported you back to happier times when you had been closer, when all was better. You gasped as you realised his erection was digging into you.

His breaths were short and urgent and before you knew it his tongue was in your mouth and you were writhing against his crotch. He freed one of your arms to undo his fly and push your briefs to the side and suddenly he was inside you and you were both crying out. You told him that you hated him and he told you that he loved you and that he would be better now and suddenly your orgasm was approaching. His mouth was on your neck and you were clenching hard around his cock as you came undone. He was deeper than he’d ever been before and he filled you to the brim as he came, spilling out onto the stairs beneath and you loudly cursed knowing you’d have to clean it.

You stayed like that for a while and he held you, he wouldn’t let you get up but just sealed you in his strong arms as your back pulsed from lying awkwardly on the hard stairs. He told you that he couldn’t let you go because then he’d lose you forever and so you sobbed gently on his shoulder until you fell asleep.

He carried you to bed and you slept all night, even late through the morning – waking up at nearly eleven. You crept downstairs and he wasn’t there, but he’d left you a note saying he’d be home by five. He had left several things out on the kitchen table for you.

A brand new record player, pristine in its box.

The Your Heart Belongs To Me vinyl, snapped and broken. A stack of shiny new records next to it.

A single cheeseburger, cut perfectly in half.

You sighed heavily, retreating back up the stairs to unpack your suitcase.

#lee bodecker x you #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #my heart belongs to you fic #dark!lee bodecker

[kentopedia]

it makes me so happy to see more people are starting to write multi chap / series fics on here again

#don’t get me wrong i love one shots and drabbles too #but my heart will always belong to loonnnggg slowburn stories like if i find a good 100k word fic on ao3 i'm sold lol #and i feel like for a while there these kinds of fics were really starting to die out :( #and ik it’s probably bc they don’t do as well on tumblr unfortunately #but i'm excited to see people are picking them back up !!! i hope this trend continues !! #also if you are writing one you enjoy pls pls don’t get discouraged ! :( and send them my way!!! at least one person on here will enjoy the #(me)

[blithesharem]

diavolo 🌠 !

The day that Diavolo fell in love it was raining.

The morning had begun gray, a slow drizzle, but by mid-day it had crashed into a proper storm. Barbatos had been caught several times staring out the window, watching the wind tear through the gardens and the water create rivers over the pathways. Diavolo had asked the demon if he was worried for his flowers, but Barbatos had only give him a thin smile and offered him a fresh pot of tea.

Eventually the prince made his way back to his office to continue working through the stack of his father’s paperwork. No. His paperwork. He was still adjusting to thinking of it that way, to taking ownership over the decisions he made every day. No longer would he have his father’s shadow to fall back on. No longer would he have his father’s shadow oppressing him.

While Diavolo mused over those two thoughts, the storm continued. It seemed like it was demanding something from him, he thought with mild amusement, like it wanted his attention.

“Not now, storm, Barbatos will scold me if I don’t get these finished,” he tried to jest aloud, but his voice fell flat in the empty room. And anyway, his butler was far too distracted today to pay him much thought.

‘Perhaps,’ Diavolo then thought, setting down his pen and giving a stretch, ‘A walk will do me some good.’

And so on the day that Diavolo fell in love he went on a walk in the rain.

Of course, he took an umbrella. He wasn’t a barbarian. Still, it made him feel a bit wild to be strolling through the castle grounds in the rain. His father would never have allowed such behavior, and Diavolo suspected Barbatos might have something to say if he was caught as well. But for now, he was as free as a prince could get in his gilded cage.

“Well, here I am, storm,” he said pleasantly, smiling when a rumble of thunder answered him, “Yes, thank you, I must agree.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Perhaps he was a bit lonely, he had to admit. Demon princes probably shouldn’t be talking to themselves in the rain.

He was about to turn around and return inside with a sudden light caught his eyes. Anticipating a score of lightning, Diavolo stopped and lifted his eyes to the boiling clouds in the sky. There, tearing across the grey, was not lightning but a shooting star.

A chill ran down Diavolo’s spine, a feeling he felt rarely enough to note it. A shooting star midday?

He had better make a very special wish.

#“I need someone to be my friend. Someone who won't run away. Maybe send me an angel! The nicest angel you have.” #i originally planned this to be longer but it wanted to end here #obey me diavolo #obey me dialuci #obey me fic #i wanted to write about the moment when Lucifer lifts his head #and Diavolo is caught in his eyes burning bright with anguish and fury and terror all at once #and the strike that gaze makes into his heart #the sudden realization that whoever these eyes belong to is someone Diavolo would fall to his knees for #but alas the fic would not comply

[littledreamling]

I love everyone tagging their dreamling fics with ooc/ out of character because let’s be honest, every fic that has Morpheus in the same room as a healthy relationship is out of character, that man cannot maintain a relationship to save his life

#every time he opens his mouth in a dreamling fic is our of character #he’d rather die than be in a healthy relationship #because healthy relationships take effort and humility and communication and he has NONE of that #he’s sent people to hell for rejecting him #what makes you think he’d actually be able to manage a relationship with someone as stubborn as Hob?? #he literally doesn’t believe in love: ‘love belongs to desire and desire is always cruel’ #and with his track record?? I don’t blame him lmao #even if he IS the problem #but I think that’s what makes it fun #he can have a little non-canon compliant character growth as a treat #it makes my little ‘everything has to be canon compliant and historically accurate’ heart really anxious though #it’s an uncomfy feeling to type out certain dialogue lines and know that it wpuld never actually come out of his mouth #but I’m getting over it #do it for the fic #dream of the endless #morpheus #sandman netflix #the sandman #dreamling

[ookikufurikabutte]

funniest & most terrifying thing to think about of ur ocs possibly becoming popular is that people start treating them like they belong to them and suddenly everything that made them who they are goes out the window.

#zack speaks a lot tag #this is specifically me when i think about that one twt artist who got super popular with their oc world that reminds me of the muppets #u know the one #that artist also said not tasteful art of their ocs made them uncomfy in the past #then they got harassed so much about it that they said #sure go ahead but please tag it specifically as this (xyz) and i will never look at it #like it breaks my heart #your stuff does not belong to you when other people get their hands on it #like imagine someone making a self insert het fic for your gay man oc #BIGGEST FEAR!!!!!! #GET AWAY!!!!!! #also genderbending my ocs like i will kill you personally #anyways…. thats tha rant for today #hope u like

[bylertruther]

just read the latest chapter for "I'm Going to Work On Believing It" and um . when i tell u my goosebumps started flaring and still have not stopped 6k words and however many minutes later....... i'm dead dying sobbing drowning in a puddle of my own tears my heart is three times bigger n full of ooey gooey love n joy n warmth i'm healed i'm—

#GOD........... RICHIE AND WILL FROM THE BELONGING TO YOUR DREAMS SERIES YOU WILL LITERALLY FOREVER N ALWAYS BE FAMOUS #WRITTEN WITH SO MUCH LOVE IT'S UNBELIEVABLE.......... HOW IS THIS FREEEEEEEE #there is No One tht loves will more than spotlightonmringenue n richie . no competition like it's over not even joyce or jon or mike srry #STOP READING HERE IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE LATEST UPDATE STOP STOP STOPPPPP TURN BACKKKK #ok. #when i saw the wizard heart plushie come up......... Bro Why Am I Crying In The Club Right Now like 😭😭😭😭 #THE SYMBOLISM IN THIS FIC IS FUCKING INSANEEEEEEEEEE #FIRST MIKE MAKES UP FOR NOVEMBER 6TH BY SAVING WILL FROM VECNA AND THEN RICHIE TUCKS THE FLUFF BACK IN THE HEART... #I'M GONNA SPLIT MY LAPTOP IN HALF THIS FIC IS SO CRAZY IT'S SO FUCKING. INSANE #WILL BYERS ENJOYERS OF THE WORLD YOU HAVE TO READ IT YOU /HAVE/ TO READ IT #100000000000k words of will byers being loved and understood like this is crack 2 me. #richie feeling like he's had an organ ripped out of him with will's (n the byers) absence n then he finds the heart... n vows to find him.. #i'm feeling So Many Emotions tht i can't think of anything i could say that would match the intensity of them like. #richie and will............... will and richie....... the best friends to ever be friends #two lonely souls tht found each other n helped each other n SAW each other and . crying sobbin g plopping face down into my pillow

[beevean]

The Day That Hope Died

Yes, that’s the name of a real path in ShTH. I love this game <3

An exchange between Sonic and Shadow in the Pure Dark-Dark ending, inspired by a certain comic and its handling of respecting other people’s identity and choices. Sonic might be OOC (let alone Shadow but that comes with the territory), but I did my best with this unusual situation ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The idea of separating Diablon and Sonic so that they can have a 1-to-1, and most importantly a certain action Sonic takes :P are the suggestions of @rollflasher.

AO3 link: here.

~

Commander!

Sonic rushed to the core of the G.U.N. Fortress, heart hammering in his chest, he was too slow, he was too late!

If only those annoying black creatures didn’t hold him back! Now the Commander’s mech was nothing more than red scraps of metal scattered onto the floor. Sonic couldn’t see him anywhere… did he…?

“Only one left.”

A cold voice distracted him.

Shadow was approaching the remains of the Diablon, twirling like a toy the purple Chaos Emerald that used to power up the machine. That all but confirmed the worst in Sonic’s mind.

Shadow helped the aliens. Shadow destroyed multiple cities. Shadow destroyed the computers in G.U.N.’s base to weaken their defenses. Shadow murdered the Commander. At this rate, Shadow would destroy the entire planet.

That’s enough.

“Shadow!”

The black hedgehog snapped his head up as Sonic approached him. Cold eyes stared at him, through him, unrecognizable.

“Rouge told me that I’d find you here,” he said, in the most casual tone he could muster. “You really crossed the line, bud. I can’t let you do as you please anymore.”

“Not you again… Step back,” Shadow barked. “You can’t stop me from taking the last Emerald.”

Well, being nice was worth a shot.

“Oh, looking for this?”

Sonic took from his quills the only Chaos Emerald that Shadow hadn’t managed to snatch yet; the Commander had the right idea, separating the two gems so that they wouldn’t neatly fall in Shadow’s lap. The soft red light tinted the tiny platform underground. Sonic would find it funny, if the circumstances were different.

Shadow’s eyes widened and he looked taken aback, but not for long: as soon as his jet skates activated, Sonic stepped aside, avoiding Shadow’s lunging attack. And again, and again. Predictable. He couldn’t even have fun.

“Hello, fastest thing alive? You have to do better than that.”

Bored of the little dodging game, he grabbed Shadow’s wrist and kicked his legs. Surprisingly, Shadow fell to the ground with a grunt of pain. Sonic quickly thanked the Commander for tiring him out.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Shadow. I never thought I’d have to fight you like this again, but after all you did…”

Shadow wasn’t exactly a great person when Sonic first met him either, but he missed when the worst thing the other hedgehog did was being his faker. Now, he will never erase the images of the crumbling Central City and the sound of the grieving survivors from his mind.

The hedgehog started to get up, and before Sonic could react he started to talk, voice dripping with bitterness: “Don’t pretend you suddenly care. Either leave or perish at my hand, but stop being a coward.”

The derisive tone stung Sonic more than it should have. His ears drooped. “I do care. You’re my friend.”

Sonic shouldn’t talk to him. He should take him down! This is what he did with terrorists like Eggman! But I can’t… I can’t bring myself to attack him. I need to know first.

Shadow actually took a step back, and all of a sudden he bristled in a rage Sonic had never seen before from him: “You liar! Are you trying to guilt trip me?”

So Sonic had touched a hot button. He pressed on: he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, he had to ask, he had to understand what was going on. “I watched you die to save the planet. You helped me again even when you didn’t remember me. You are a good person at heart, I know it! What happened to you?” A realization flashed in his mind before Shadow could even open his mouth. “Wait, it was that Doom guy, wasn’t he? He filled your head with nonsense!”

It had to be him. That stupid looking starfish alien, always hovering around Shadow, always telling him what to do… Sonic wished he had taken care of him back during the attack on Westopolis. But he got distracted, and now it was too late.

… Was all of this his fault?

Shadow crossed his arms, hands gripping too tightly to pretend to be aloof. “How presumptuous. Do you think you know me better than myself?”

“Looks like it. I don’t know what I’m looking at, but you’re not the Shadow I know.”

“Who do you think you are? ‘Your friend’? ‘The Shadow you know’? You just want me to be what you expect from me, don’t you?”

“I want you to snap out of it, yes. This isn’t you!”

“You don’t know anything! Black Doom helped me understand! It is my duty to judge mankind. Those foolish humans don’t deserve to live, and I will punish them personally–”

“SHUT UP!”

Sonic dashed to Shadow still rambling like a maniac and did the first thing on his mind: he punched him in the face with all his strength.

He almost fell over, probably more due to the shock than the pain. Even with his knuckles dully throbbing, even with his hands shaking, Sonic couldn’t deny that it felt great.

But Shadow didn’t have the decency to take the hint; there he was again, with that mocking fake smile, and those empty eyes. “Heh, I’m surprised you had it in you.”

“Enough!” he yelled. “I don’t want to hear another word from you unless it’s ‘I’m sorry, I’m back to normal’!”

Black Doom… it’s all because of him! When I get my hands on him…

“Arrogant hedgehog. How dare you dictate my own identity? I finally know who I am! I won’t let anyone sway me or stand in my way!”

Sonic huffed in spite of himself. “Your ‘identity’? Don’t act all philosophical on me when you’re talking about killing people.”

“This is what I was made for! They deserve it for what they did!” Shadow shouted, with such conviction in his voice that felt like a punch to the gut.

His fur began to shimmer of a bright red color; it hurt in the dimness of the cave. Nausea bubbled in Sonic’s throat, both because the negative Chaos Energy was too much to handle, and because of Shadow’s words. The more he let him talk, the worse he got.

His hatred sounded too familiar to be mere brainwashing.

Sonic sighed. “Fine. If you won’t come to your senses on your own, I’ll knock some into you! I stopped you once, I can do it again!”

Yes, the race on the ARK… he remembered it like it was yesterday. It was fun, racing someone as fast as him, keeping up with his banter. Yes, the real goal was to destroy the Eclipse Cannon from being used by Eggman, but Shadow was such an intriguing rival, and it was chilling to discover what was done to him, and the relief at him coming back to help them against the plans of his creators was immensurable.

There was no trace of that honorable person in the madman drowning in Chaos Energy in front of him, who was so sure that not only destroying the world was good, but was his purpose.

Was it Black Doom’s fault for reopening old wounds?

Was it really Sonic’s fault for leaving him alone?

Should he have kept a closer eye on his former friend?

But more importantly: what could he do now?

Shadow spread his arms, a twisted smile on his lips. The cave wasn’t red anymore, but shone with all the colors of the rainbow: the Chaos Emeralds were lazily circling around the black hedgehog. Their power was almost palpable, a soothing warmth caressing Sonic’s fur, but it wasn’t enough to stop the dread squeezing his chest.

Shadow with one Emerald could use powers Sonic couldn’t even imagine. Shadow with six Chaos Emeralds would be nothing short of a beast. It would be like trying to take Perfect Chaos down without his Super form. His chances were slim…

… but when did that ever stop him before?

“You’re clearly outmatched, Sonic!” Shadow cackled. “Give up and be smart for once! But if you insist on supporting humanity… I won’t show any more mercy!”

Something snapped inside him.

What was he doing, wasting time like this? Trying to reason with him? No matter how much he begged… people like him didn’t change that easily.

Maybe… maybe he is the real Shadow, and I was wrong all along.

Sonic clung onto his only Emerald and his cold anger. Nothing else mattered. There was only him, the world in dire danger, and an enemy to be stopped at all costs.

“Okay, Shadow. You made your choice. If being a murderer is what you really are… I’ll treat you as such.”

#sonic the hedgehog #beev's writing #obligatory 'i'm not a writer' disclaimer #shadow the hedgehog #shth #shadow the hedgehog (2005) #me: nice merciful hero you got there it would be a shame if i broke him :3 #i love writing dialogue #descriptions on the other hand can burn where they belong #no fight because i suck at it sorry #other names for this fics were 'truth thy name is vengeance' #'a heart awoken from darkness' #and a slightly less melodramatic 'are you friend or fiend' #the name doesn't necessarily reflect the path i just wanted to emphasize poor sonic getting disillusioned #funnily enough you can get to gun fortress after helping sonic twice in a row #the path is called 'birth of a devil' #some of the dialogue is taken from windii's retranslation btw #will i ever move on from shth angst? maybe... surge angst sounds intriguing too ;) #now i don't know if i'll ever finish let alone publish my fic based on the pure dark-hero ending however it's too similar

[iron-sides]

you know what we deserve a really good light-hearted but like high quality (so like conflict but happy ending and its not angstporn. like a happy medium) 100k work 10 chapter high school au a la les mis fandoms world aint ready. im not going to write it but someone shoulg :(

#bf #guyssss if u can bring urself to read fic abt ppl youve never heard of (or are willing to read les mis or listen to me infodump) u should r #read world aint ready its soooo good :(( like not to hold up les mis as being the fandom w 3 of my all time top 5 fics but theres smth #in the WATER there. mostly gay ppl and tiem #anyway its sooo sweet its fake dating its your friend running away from her abusive foster family its getting to know ur new rich #who isnt actually as snobby and uckers as u thought he was and its making the world better for ur friends and its prom and its #social justice club at a shitty school and its a sewing machine under ur bed that doesnt belong to you and it has my whole heart :(( #i wanna reread it but i shant bc then i will reread cityverse and that will be far more upsetting #ANYWAY THE POINT IS. its long its really good and its got Tropes Galore so i want it carnally but for like scarian or smth #idk #my thots #ficposting

[bratbby333]

i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 

“What is it?” your coworker asked. 

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.

#—written by jade 🌿 #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satorugojo #gojosatoru #jjk #jujutsukaisen #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru smut #jujutsu satoru #gojo #gojo jjk #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #bratbby333

[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU BREAK UP AND MAKE UP — NANAMI KENTO

summary: fed up with your stagnant marriage, you serve your husband divorce papers as a final cry to show you're tired of his behaviour. but you forget that, although he doesn't always show it, your husband never goes down without a fight.

w/c: 3.5k

cw: angst to fluff, nanami may come across as an asshole but he means it with love, plot with a dash of porn at the end, so mdni!!, semi-public sex (you fuck in an elevator) afab!reader

authors note: first fic on the new blog (wild) but I actually really fw this fic, hope you all do to. not fully proof read so ignore mistakes!!

nanami's footsteps echo through the dimly lit hallway as he approaches your apartment. his heart pounds against his ribs, a mixture of irritation, confusion, and hurt swirling within him. he had seen the divorce papers, his name scrawled across the top in bold letters, and the shock has left him simmering with resentment.

with a determined exhale, he raises his hand and knocks on your door. the door swings open, revealing his surprised expression. his eyes widen as he takes in your clenched jaw and the tension etched into your features.

"kento," your voice wavers, a mix of surprise and something he can't quite place.

"i didn't expect to find divorce papers on my desk at work," he bites out, his tone sharp and impatient.

your cheeks flush slightly, your gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet his stare. "it got your attention, didn't it?" you retort, your voice tinged with exasperation.

"attention?" nanami's voice drips with sarcasm. "you think serving me divorce papers at my job is the way to solve our problems?"

"you've been distant, nanami," your voice holds a trace of weariness. "we've been living separate lives for weeks. i needed you to know that something has to change."

nanami's irritation flares, his patience wearing thin. "dropping divorce papers on my desk is your way of communication now?"

"you've brushed me off every time i've tried to talk," your voice holds a hint of frustration, your eyes betraying a simmering anger. "maybe this is the only language you'll understand."

nanami's annoyance collides with a stubborn resistance, his grip on his emotions hardening. "you know i've been busy," he states curtly.

"busy ignoring me," your voice is edged with bitterness, your expression growing weary.

nanami's frustration deepens, and he steps closer, his gaze unwavering. "you could have talked to me."

you look away, your jaw clenched. "tried that." he reaches out to you but you brush him off, backing out of his space. 

you didn’t know what the exact turning point of your marriage was, but once it came it was overwhelming, swept you both up in a whirl of frustration. nanami didn’t feel like yours anymore – he was a shell of the guy you married. there were no more morning kisses, gentle touches, or late-night talks that once filled your lives. the silence in your shared space became a chasm, widening with each passing day. you pleaded for his attention, for a connection, but it was as if he was slipping away, becoming a stranger.

"you’ve taken this game of yours too far," he scoffs, disbelief and a hint of frustration in his voice. nanami had never imagined it would come to this – the thought of you leaving him was a reality he was struggling to accept. he wasn't blind to the shifts in your relationship, the growing distance, but he had convinced himself that it was a phase. a bad period that could be smoothed out with a little time and patience.

when you gathered your belongings and walked away, nearly a month ago now, he allowed you to go, certain that this was just a phase, a moment of frustration that would pass.

"i thought we were just going through a rough patch," he continues, his voice carrying a self-assured edge. "didn't think you'd take it to this extreme. you really tried to embarrass me at work with that shit, everybody saw y’know, my colleagues, my boss.”

your eyes narrow at his response, the frustration that had simmered inside you starting to boil over. "It's not a game, nanami. this isn't some ploy for attention."

“so you’ve given up on me then? on us?” he asks incredulously, stepping closer to you, studying your face.

your gaze holds his, determination mixing with the hurt that still lingers. "i didn't want to give up, but i can't keep holding on to something that's slipping away."

nanami's eyes search yours, a moment of vulnerability flickering across his features before he masks it with his trademark confidence. "you think i'll just let you go that easily?"

you meet his gaze head-on, the tension between you palpable. "it's not about whether you'll 'let' me. it's about whether we're both willing to put in the effort to fix what's broken."

his smirk fades, his gaze intense as he studies you. "and? are you willing?"

nanami didn’t realise how silent his home was without you in it. when he returned, he sat in silence, the weight of your ultimatum sinking in. ‘it’s not a game nanami’ your previous words repeatedly echo through his mind. he had always prided himself on his rationality, on his ability to see things logically, but when it came to you, it was an unfamiliar territory,

he had grown accustomed to the routine of his life, the predictable patterns that had lulled him into a sense of complacency. he had convinced himself that the distance between you two would eventually close on its own. and now, confronted with the reality of your departure, he couldn't deny the truth any longer.

“you’ve really fucked this up nanamin,” gojo lectures over the phone to nanami, “you deserved getting embarrassed at your job.”

“i didn’t call you to be told off,” nanami says, pinching his nose “i called for you to tell me what to do.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” gojo questions, “you know what she wants.”

“If i did, i wouldn’t be on the phone with you, would i?” nanami snaps, frustration brewing.

“she wants the guy she married.” gojo states, ignoring nanami’s tone.

“I am that guy,” there was a pause, as if nanami could see gojo’s pointed look through the phone, “well i thought i was that guy. but i know she doesn’t want to divorce me for real, she loves me.”

“does she though?” gojo questions, “remember nanamin, i was there when you guys got married, the way she looked at you then… isn’t how she looks at you now.”

nanami ends the call abruptly, pacing around his living room. gojo’s words sticking in his mind. he had reached out to his friend seeking guidance, but it’s becoming evident that the answers he’s seeking might not be as straightforward as he had hoped.

gojo’s words struck a nerve, he was right. nanami remembers the early days of your relationship, the excitement, the adoration - the way your eyes would light up when you looked at him. but now, the distance, the hurt, it was evident.

he was going to make things right, he had to. you were his wife - his soulmate. he’s known that from the day he laid eyes on you, and he doesn’t want to let you out of his grasp.

it had been months since you served nanami the divorce papers – he was stalling. you couldn’t deny that he was trying though, the daily flowers that you received, the take out that was delivered to your house without you asking, was a testament to that.

you got daily calls, texts and emails from him asking you about your day, about your wellbeing. he was showing you that he cared, and it  was as if he was courting you all over again. 

his efforts didn’t go unnoticed, your friends and family could see the subtle smiles you couldn’t suppress and the softening of your eyes when his name was mentioned. they hoped for your sake that nanami would keep consistent.

you felt hopeful, and that made you feel dumb. 

but you just needed one more push to feel secure, to feel like this would work – would last. which is why you were standing in the lobby of your lawyers office, your feet tapping nervously against the floor as you wait for your husband to arrive. 

“hi, my love,” he greets, the familiar pet name coming out like a whisper, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, “i guess we should head up there.”

“yeah, lead the way,” you say, your tone warmer than you expect as you take in his appearance. he was dressed in one of his signature crisp suits, in fact it was your favourite suit of his, and he was wearing the hell out of it.

you follow him to the elevator, the hallway stretching ahead as you both walk side by side. you haven’t felt like this in a long time, like a pair, a union. nanami’s presence beside you is both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the life you once shared and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

“we don’t have to go this meeting you know,” nanami forces out, but you ignore him pushing the button of the floor you need to be at.

“love listen, it doesn’t have to be this way,” he persists.

“and what way is it kento?” you argue, “just because you’ve been sending me flowers, and asking me how i am each day, doesn’t mean you’ve magically became husband material again.”

“trust me, i know that.” he scoffs, “you’re a real piece of work bu-”

“and you’re a real piece of sh-” you start, stopping yourself as you realise that you were the one going too far.

“as i was saying,” he continues, “you’re a real piece of work, but you’re worth it. you always have been, from the moment i met you i knew you were going to cause me trouble but i ended up loving you for that.”

“well tell that to your actions for the past–” you pause, feeling the elevator coming to an abrupt stop, “why did the elevator just close… the last thing i need right now is to be trapped.”

nanami's gaze shifts to the control panel, his eyebrows furrowing. "looks like we're stuck."

you glance at him, your heart racing for a different reason now. "stuck?"

nanami's eyes meet yours, his smirk undeniably playful. "Seems like fate has its own plans for us," he remarks, his tone holding a hint of amusement.

you roll your eyes, unable to suppress a small smile despite the circumstances. "great, just what I needed today."

he chuckles, his fingers expertly unbuttoning his cuffs as he begins to roll up his sleeves. "well, at least we have some time to ourselves. might as well make the most of it."

your eyebrows raise at his nonchalant attitude, your surprise momentarily replacing the irritation. "are you serious right now? we're stuck in an elevator, and you're acting like it's a casual evening at home?"

nanami's grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "why not? it's not like we can do much about the situation. might as well enjoy each other's company."

you huff out a breath, torn between annoyance and amusement. as you observe him making himself comfortable on the elevator floor, you can't help but shake your head. "you're unbelievable."

he pats the spot next to him, his inviting gesture a silent challenge. "come on, it's not so bad. we can reminisce about old times, or argue about who's the better cook."

you find yourself hesitating, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. with a resigned sigh, you take a seat beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. "old times, huh? you mean the days when you used to bring me breakfast in bed?"

nanami's smile softens, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "yeah, and you'd always complain that the eggs were overcooked."

“because they always were.” you retort, with a chuckle. you missed this, being in his space without any of the extra noise.

“i can cook breakfast for you again,” he proposes, “if you just come home.”

“kento i don’t know if i-”

“do you remember our first date,” he interrupts, “my car broke down on the way home from the restaurant, so i put you on my back and carried you for 5 miles.”

“you carried my heels too,” you add, laughing softly to yourself at the memory. your first date with nanami solidified that he was the man for you, the way he shamelessly gave you a piggy back ride, heels and all.

nanami’s gaze locks with yours, his fingers gently grazing your hand “it was worth every step.”

a warmth spreads through your chest, a mix of nostalgia and a newfound vulnerability. "you used to be so sweet," you murmur, your voice laced with a bittersweet longing.

his fingers inch closer, your hands almost brushing against each other. "i can still be sweet, you know," he replies softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

your heart skips a beat, the air around you growing charged with unspoken emotions. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he tilts his head, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "maybe I've been out of practice."

as the silence settles between you, the confined space of the elevator seems to amplify the intensity of your connection. the past rushes back, the moments that you shared, the love that once flourished. but you're both here now, in the present, faced with the choice of whether to rebuild or let go.

nanami's fingers finally find yours, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "i want to make it right, to fix us," he admits, vulnerability lacing his words.

you meet his gaze, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. "It's not that simple, kento. we can't just go back to the way things were."

his thumb traces a soothing pattern on the back of your hand. "i know. but maybe we can start anew. rediscover each other, learn from our mistakes." 

you study his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. maybe he had changed, maybe he was willing to put in the effort to mend what was broken. maybe, just maybe, there was hope for your relationship after all.

the elevator's walls seem to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. The past and the present merge, and as you search his eyes for any signs of deceit, you find none. only a genuine desire to make things right.

"i've missed you," he whispers, his voice holding a vulnerability that resonates within you.

“you swallow the lump in your throat, your grip on his hand tightening. "i've missed you too."

nanami's fingers burned with a mixture of yearning and desperation as they reached out to trace the curve of your cheek. his touch was electric, sending a surge of heat through your veins. your breath hitched in response, your heart pounding against your ribs as his thumb brushed over your skin.

his touch was no longer tentative; it was a declaration, a silent proclamation of his desire. the air seemed to crackle with tension as his gaze bore into yours, his eyes dark and smouldering.

"i've wanted to do this for so long," he confesses, his voice a low growl sending a shiver down your spine.

his fingers slide from your cheek to your jawline, his touch igniting a fire within you. the space between you seemed to vanish as he closed in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. your eyes flutter closed as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, his touch setting your skin ablaze.

and then, his lips crash onto yours with a fierce hunger that leaves you breathless. it was a kiss that ignites a wildfire, a blaze of emotions that had been suppressed for far too long. his lips moved against yours with a fervour that matched the intensity of his touch, a dance of passion and longing.

his arms encircle you, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepens. his mouth moves over yours with a possessive urgency, his tongue seeking entrance and igniting a fiery tangle of sensations. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and nostalgia.

your fingers claw at the fabric of his shirt, needing to feel him, to ground yourself in this moment. his body presses against yours, every contour and ridge igniting a cascade of sensations that pooled between your thighs.

his hands trail down your back, the touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. when he cups your hips and pulls you impossibly closer, a moan escaped your lips, swallowed by the intensity of the kiss.

as the kiss broke, your foreheads rest against each other, your breaths ragged and laboured. the air around you was thick with desire, the space between you charged with an unspoken promise.

"i need you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with desperation.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head down for another searing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of pent-up longing, of a love that refused to be extinguished. your bodies moulded together as if they were meant to fit perfectly, every touch a symphony of need and surrender.

“tell me you need me, love,” he gasps out, and you nod against him, “no i got to hear you say it.”

“i need you, i do,” you whimper against his lips, as his fingers slip below the waistline of your skirt, gently grazing your clit, “k-kento we can’t, have you forgotten where we are?”

“don���t tell me you’ve become shy whilst we’ve been separated,” he chuckles, smirking as he continues to toy with your pussy “you don’t remember all the times i’d have you bent over my desk in my office?” 

you bite your lip at the memory, feeling yourself get wetter as nanami’s fingers enter you, his thumb pressing against your clit. nanami knew you inside and out, he knew how exactly where to touch, how to get you whine and writhe against him as you are now.

he took advantage of your exposed neck, biting and sucking against your collarbone as he continues to stroke your cunt. you were gushing over him, repeatedly clenching against his fingers, as he twists and pushes in and out of you. 

“you always get so wet for me,” he praises, pulling his fingers out of you, his digits glistening coated with you. you can smell your own arousal from his hand as he grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at his lust filled eyes. “ride me.”

you didn’t need to be asked twice, you discard your skirt off on the elevator floor, as he unzips his pants. he strokes his dick as it gets harder just at the sight of you. he was back was against the wall, his legs sprawled out widely, the perfect opening for you to climb right into his lap.

you slid right onto him, letting out an exhale as he fills you. he presses a sloppy kiss against your lips as your cunt grips onto him. your hands dig into his shoulder as you bounce up and down on him, his hands having your hips in a firm hold to keep you in place.

nanami couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the way you were taking him in like you needed him, was a sight he could never get tired off. you were so pretty, all fucked out on his dick, your eyes glossed over in a daze, the only thing you were focused on was him. 

“d’you see now why i could never let you go?” he teases, thrusting upwards into you as one of his hands trails up to caress your cheek, his thumb parting your lips, “because this pussy’s mine.” 

he quickens his pace, eager to get you to come undone all over him, the way your movements became slower, lazier, he could tell you were nearly at your peak. you bite on his thumb, suppressing your moans, as his merciless thrust begin to become too much. 

“m’close kento, i-it’s too much,” 

“I know my love, you’re taking me so well,” he praises, pushing deeper into you, “just hold out for a bit longer.”

“i-i can’t i-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as you feel yourself release all over him. nanami groans out his head collapsing in your cleavage as he finishes inside of you, your juices mixing with his. 

the only sounds that can be heard are you both trying to catch your breath. nanami keeps his head pressed against your tits, still inside of you. you toy with his hair pushing his hair back to leave a gentle kiss against his head, his arms tighten around you and it was as if you could feel him smile against you. you knew from then that you and your husband was going to be okay.

“kento?” your voice wavers, a mixture of uncertainty and hope lacing your words.

“yes? my love,” he responds, his gaze locked onto yours.

your heart flutters as you gather your courage, the weight of the past and the possibilities of the future intertwining in your chest. "I think we can cancel that meeting with my lawyer."

nanami's smile broadens, but it's different this time – it's a smile that carries the weight of understanding and a newfound determination. he holds your gaze, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes, a silent promise of change and rediscovery.

you eventually got out of that elevator and you didn’t go home to your separate apartments, you went home, together. 

extra an: so guys what did you think?? first time writing for smut, and for nanami so if it’s shit spare me. but I love him and I’d never divorce him. DIVIDERS FROM @/CAFEKITSUNE !!

#stampedwithanE★ #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami angst #nanami fluff #jjk smut #nanami smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami x you #nanami kento smut

[sashaisready]

Your Heart Belongs to Me - Part One

Sheriff Lee Bodecker x Female Reader (The Devil All The Time)

In late-1960s Knockemstiff, your husband Lee has been neglecting you for so long that you're starved of affection. Trapped in your domestic prison, could the young handyman working on your house be your ticket to freedom?

Warnings: smut/sexual references (light), angst, extramarital affairs, alcohol and drug use, alcoholism, some rough handling of female character by male character. Lee is quite dark in this story so please use caution.

Story Masterlist Part 2

You were rinsing the dinner plates and scrubbing the pots and pans when your husband came up behind you in the kitchen. You were humming to yourself like you often did during your chores, a little song to break up the monotony of your tedious duties.

Lee said nothing. He just quietly placed the crumpled piece of paper down next to the sink, pushing it across the counter by your elbow.

When you saw what it was your stomach sank so quickly you thought you might be sick. You felt your knees buckle as panic moved its way up your body, seemingly collapsing each of your muscles.

“Found this in the bedroom” he said quietly. You couldn’t read his tone which was always scarier, he was always more manageable when you could actually hear the anger in his voice.

You peered over at it intently as if you’d just seen it for the first time. “Huh” you uttered. “What’s that, baby?” Cutesy nicknames often helped appease him.

You knew feigning innocence would only get you so far, but you had to try.

“I was thinkin’ you could tell me” muttered Lee.

You carried on washing the dishes as if this was all no big deal, too nervous to turn around and face him.

“Sorry honeybun, nothing I’ve seen before” you said casually. “Maybe it fell out of one of my library books? People use all sorts of things for bookmarks”. You hoped he hadn’t noticed your breathing quicken, but of course he had.

“Maybe check it again” Lee said stonily. He held it in front of your face and you gingerly took it from him.

The paper was scrawled with chicken scratch handwriting. It looked like it had been written with blunt charcoal. It was actually an eyeliner pencil. You knew that, of course. You read it for the thousandth or so time since you’d received it. It was silly of you to keep it. You knew that then and you knew that now. But you thought you’d hidden it well enough. It was the only thing you owned which gave you joy. You treasured it, like a magpie guarding a precious piece of silver in its nest.

Never forget that each day your beauty catches me off guard. Your Heart Belongs To Me – H

“Sounds like someone has a sweetheart” you muttered, placing it back on the counter. “Shame it never found its way to the intended recipient I guess”.

Sweat dripped down your forehead as Lee hummed thoughtfully. You intently scrubbed at a stubborn patch of grease baked onto the pan.

“You know what’s funny?” Lee said as he placed a firm hand on your waist. “Your Heart Belongs To Me…ain’t that your favourite Supremes song?”

You gulped, going rigid in his grasp. “I-it is” you mumbled.

Lee chuckled. “A good husband knows his wife’s favourite song. I remember how much you used to play that one” he mused.

“Yes. When I had my record player, at least” you whispered tightly.

You froze as he continued his interrogation routine on you. He didn’t get to be Sheriff on luck alone.

“And ‘H’” he said thoughtfully, taking the time to enunciate the letter carefully. “I’ve been rackin’ my brains wondering who ‘H’ could be. Any ideas, sugar?” he asked, his grip on your waist tightening as his free hand joined the other side of you.

It was Harry, of course.

You knew that. Lee knew that.

Harry.

**

Harry had worked for you and Lee for a few weeks at the height of summer, building a shed in the yard and taking on a few odd jobs around the house as a handyman. Lee was too busy at the station of course, working long hours as he protected the town and did his duty. Many of those long hours were also spent in the company of prostitutes, or staring down a bottle of whisky in some seedy bar. He rarely tried to cover his tracks nowadays so you knew all about it. You saw the lipstick marks on his shirts in the laundry. Found that unfamiliar pair of discarded panties underneath the passenger seat of his cruiser (which you purposefully left on the dash so he knew you’d seen them). Smelt the liquor on his breath as he stumbled into bed with you countless hours after his shift had ended. Regardless, he had no such time to build sheds or put up shelves, so Harry was hired.

Harry, twenty one years old, fresh faced and beautiful. He seemed impossibly young to you, a living reminder of your lost youth – even though there wasn’t really that much difference in your ages, in the big scheme of things. His body was perfectly chiselled from years spent working with his hands outside, wide arms and broad shoulders, sturdy thighs and calloused fingers. Sometimes when you snuck glances at him as he worked - you’d catch him wiping his brow with his t-shirt, his exposed stomach like a washboard. He even had that prominent ‘V’ muscle creeping down to his crotch. You’d only ever seen pictures of that in the magazines. Nobody else in Knockemstiff looked like Harry. As he ran his fingers absent-mindedly through his long chestnut hair, you’d often feel your breath hitch and a tingle between your legs, suddenly thinking the type of thoughts that betrayed your marriage vows.

It started innocently enough. Mrs Bodecker, the Sheriff’s wife, is known for nothing if not being a good host. You’d bring him lemonade and home baked muffins, make him lunch, bring him wet towels to cool down with when the baking summer sun was too stifling. He was always so grateful, so appreciative. He’d tell you how good everything tasted and be openly in awe of your housekeeping skills. The most you got from Lee these days was a grunt, or he’d moan that he wanted porkchops when you made him lamb.

It was nice to have someone to talk to during the day. You were alone in the house by yourself most of the time, and your chores only kept you so busy. Harry would chat with you, ask you questions about yourself as he ate lunch and you cleaned the stove. He always seemed genuinely interested in your answers, remembering the details and referring to them again in later conversations. His attention was intoxicating, it made you feel special and important – as if maybe there was more to you than just being a homemaker and the Sheriff’s dutiful wife.

Your routine was that you’d put on your records as you cleaned, cooked, sewed and organised. Everything from The Supremes to The Stones, music brought you intense joy and brightened your days. Lee often called most of it a racket but you didn’t care. When he was out you’d shimmy up the stairs to the Four Seasons, scrub the bathroom tiles to The Monkees and dress your salads to Aretha. You’d dance by yourself, bouncing from room to room as you swayed to the music and tapped your feet. It was the only time you felt truly free, unencumbered by the dreariness of your day to day.

You’d tone it down when Harry was around of course, not wanting him to catch your embarrassing displays of frivolity. You’d sway to the songs, hum along gently, but reserved the real dancing for when you were alone.

Then one day you forgot yourself, getting caught up listening to Shout by the Isley Brothers. You just got carried away, twirling in the living room with your eyes closed and shaking your hips, leaping onto the couch and throwing your arms up with wild abandon. Completely unselfconscious and liberated.

You gasped when you saw Harry leaning against the doorframe, his gorgeous grin lighting up his face. You had blushed crimson as you stopped the record, ashamed to be caught in your private moment. But Harry had told you how much he liked it, he asked if he could join in. You awkwardly put the song back on and he began to dance too. You felt self-conscious at first but he took your hand and spun you around. His playful energy was so infectious you couldn’t help but relax and begin to enjoy it. Lee hated dancing and never indulged you apart from an occasional half-hearted slow dance sway at weddings. Dancing with a man who wanted to dance with you, who actually enjoyed dancing, was dizzying, particularly such a handsome man who had his pick of the girls in town.

After that, you and Harry danced every day. You’d take turns picking a record and would bop around the living room together laughing and twirling, he’d dip you and spin you around. You knew it was wrong, but you didn’t feel guilt – it was just dancing after all, nothing more. Besides, Lee was up to much worse, so what did a little dancing hurt?

Lee was becoming harder to live with. He’d stopped having sex with you, just occasionally demanding a hand or blow job when he’d stumbled in from the bar, swaying with drunkenness – sometimes running to the bathroom to vomit afterwards. He never serviced your own needs, never even kissed you. Once night you tried to seduce him with his favourite dinner and a slinky teddy nightdress, nibbling on his earlobe on the couch – but he merely waved you away and told you he was watching TV. You don’t think he’d even have noticed if you’d been nude.

You’d resorted to touching yourself alone in bed on the nights he was out, thinking about dancing in Harry’s strong arms and picturing his deep blue eyes as you bucked wildly against your hand, your face pressed to the pillow to muffle your cries. You’d been married for nearly seven years now, and this wasn’t how you pictured your life.

One particularly stifling afternoon you’d put on Your Heart Belongs To Me for Harry and had slow danced with him in the kitchen, his hands gently clasping your hips as you swayed in time together. You’d looked up into his beautiful, welcoming sea blue eyes and he smiled back at you so warmly that your heart skipped a beat. You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes as his hands caressed your back and you thought about another life, another you, with Harry. He would love you and you him. And all would be fine.

“The Sheriff is so lucky to have you” he had whispered, and your eyes filled with tears because Lee would never think such a thing.

“When I get married, if my wife is anythin’ like you I’ll be a happy man” he said softly. “Beautiful..kind…fun…the best cook in the state” he laughed.

You looked back at him, unsure of what to say, just basking in his kind words. Inhaling them like much needed oxygen, your heart stinging as you realised you hadn’t heard anything like that from a man in so many years.

“This is my favourite song” you whispered.

Harry smiled again. “I think it’s mine too now”.

He gently lifted a finger under your chin and raised your lips to his, your skin buzzed with electricity as he kissed you so tenderly you thought your legs might give out. Every nerve ending in your body felt alight in that moment, as if someone had flicked a long neglected switch somewhere in your brain and you suddenly came back to life.

But you couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry” you said gently as you broke away. You gestured to your wedding ring and Harry just smiled apologetically, kissing you chastely on the cheek as he went back to work out in the yard. It all happened so quickly you briefly wondered if it had just been your imagination.

As much as you wanted it so desperately, you had taken marriage vows. Yes, your husband wasn’t exactly keeping up his end of the bargain but that didn’t mean you had to stoop to his level. Besides, you had been happy together once. When you were young and carefree, and Lee had been a fresh faced deputy ready to fight crime and make the town a better place. You’d had no money but that was alright, going at it in the backseat of his car and spending hours at the creek just holding hands and talking about your hopes and dreams. Pooling your pennies to buy a cheeseburger for a late breakfast and splitting it down the middle, both vowing you’d go out for fancy steak dinners and champagne once you were married and he was making more money.

But climbing the ladder in the force hardened Lee, exposing him to so much violence and corruption it just became his day to day. He drank more and more to deal with the stress and his temper that had always been on the edges of your relationship moved closer and closer to the centre. You knew he resented you even though you didn’t fully understand why, perhaps because your days consisted of cleaning products and chopping vegetables safe at home, and you couldn’t begin to grasp how his world worked anymore.

That evening you made him a nice dinner and decided to make another effort to really try and bond with him. You knew it was probably out of guilt after Harry’s stolen kiss, but if it brought you two closer together then that was only a good thing.

But he didn’t come home of course, and you called the station but he’d already left and they couldn’t tell you where he was (a lie, you knew they always covered for each other with the wives). So his dinner went in the trash and you padded off to bed alone like you so often did. A crash woke you at 2am and you went downstairs to find Lee on the floor of the living room barely able to stand. You pulled him to his feet, seething, as he then collapsed into the wall knocking your beloved record player flying – you could only watch in horror as you heard it crack when it hit the hard marble of the fireplace.

It was ruined of course, beyond fixing. You sat on the floor clutching it in tears as Lee stumbled onto the couch, cursing at the wreckage and promptly passing out.

The next morning you stonily made him breakfast as he nursed a killer hangover and you were giving him the silent treatment over the incident. He knew you were upset as he was sweet as pie, which he only ever was when he felt guilty. The overenthusiastic niceness about the bacon and excessive compliments on your hair did nothing but rile you up further until you told him simply that you just wanted him to replace the record player rather than play out this ridiculous charade. He shifted in his seat and mumbled something about saving money and you finally lost it with him.

“That record player is the only thing in this house that I truly love and you DESTROYED it” you screamed. “You NEED to replace it”.

“I don’t NEED to do anythin’ with the money I bring home” he spat. “I feed ya, clothe ya, set you up pretty comfortably don’t I?? You don’t get to dictate what I do with my pay check”.

You had been furious, vibrating with rage, gripping the sink as your contempt for him flowed through your body.

“Maybe you’d have a bit more to spare if you didn’t spend so much on whiskey and whores” you had growled at him.

He stared at you in silence, his face clouded with anger. His blue eyes were so piercing that you feared they’d tear holes into your flesh. But then he merely chuckled, as if you’d said the silliest thing in the world. He went back to eating as if you weren’t even there.

“Lee, please” you reasoned, softening as you realised you needed to change tact. “I love my records. They make me so happy” you crossed the kitchen towards him, standing next to his chair and taking his hand. “Please, can we just get a new one. It’s the only thing I want, nothin’ else” you pleaded.

Lee groaned. You could see he was relenting, but not enough. The whores comment had probably stuck in his craw.

“Sorry sweetness, can’t do it right now. Maybe after a few more paychecks. I really didn’t mean to break it, I am sorry”.

He got up and kissed you on the cheek as he went to leave for work.

You waited until he’d left and then sobbed quietly at the kitchen table, your world suddenly much greyer and smaller this morning.

Harry had arrived as usual but kept himself to himself, clearly giving you space after the kiss. It was his final day working for the Bodeckers as he’d finally worked through the long list of jobs Lee set out for him. You busied yourself with your chores but it was all a lot harder without your music. You suddenly realised you couldn’t carry on like this. You’d finally had enough. Taking away your dancing was the last straw.

You brought Harry’s lunch out to him and a pitcher of sweet tea. He was as attentive and kind as ever, and your heart swelled merely be being in his presence. You knew it was now or never.

“I have your last pay from Lee and I’ll give it you when you finish up this afternoon”.

He smiled. “Thanks Mrs. B. I’ve enjoyed working here a lot. Thanks again for all your kind hospitality”.

You both looked at each other intensely, glimpses of sadness between you and it was clear neither wanted it to end.

“Harry” you said quietly, checking that no neighbours were nearby. “Would you take me somewhere tonight?”

Harry swallowed, studying you carefully as his eyes narrowed. “Uh yeah of course – but er what about-”

“He’ll be out all night” you cut him off. “Fridays are poker nights with the boys. I’ll be lucky to see him before midnight”.

Harry nodded “Alright. I’ll pick you up at eight, then”. His eyes sparkled as he smiled at you, and everything seemed a little bit more bearable.

“Okay. But I’ll meet you out at the dirt road so nobody sees us” you whispered.

He smiled back at you. “It’s a date”.

You grinned fiendishly, nodding and running back to the kitchen. The rest of the day went by in a blur, you were giddy with excitement, feeling those same butterflies you did in your teens when you first started going with Lee.

At the end of the afternoon you gave Harry his final pay as he bid you farewell and you thanked him for all his hard work. You both smiled knowingly as he walked out to his truck for the final time, co-conspirators in your private secret. You then ran the clock down until eight and finally jogged out to the dirt road. Nobody saw you, and even if they did, your neighbours knew you sometimes liked an evening stroll.

You heart pounded in your chest as you stepped into Harry’s truck and he greeted you with a sloppy kiss. You kissed him back firmly, his tongue finding yours and suddenly your fingers were through his thick hair. You didn’t even think of Lee. You just leaned into the kiss and climbed onto Harry’s lap, holding him so tightly that you might never let him go. He moaned softly against you and it was the most wonderful sound you’d heard in years. He pulled away and beamed at you, gently moving you back to your seat and he drove. He drove and drove. Far out of town and from prying eyes. You rolled the window down and felt the summer breeze whip through your hair as the truck sped through the night. You were free for a moment. Free from Lee. Free from the house. Just existing under the night sky.

Harry finally pulled over at the edge of an abandoned quarry and you just sat listening to his car radio, hands gently clasped across the seats. He brought out a liquor bottle and you shared it between you, grinning as the alcohol warmed your bellies and ran languidly through your veins. He lit up a joint and you both took puffs, you coughing weakly as you hadn’t smoked pot in years. You felt a quick thrill, the Sheriff’s wife doing drugs in the car of a young man who wasn’t her husband. You giggled as your felt your mind cloud and the substances take hold.

“I’m so glad you’re here” said Harry, as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Me too” you replied as your hands caressed his broad chest. “I wish I could stay in this moment forever”.

He nodded silently and your bodies melted into one another.

Before you knew it, Harry was lifting up your dress in the flatbed of the truck, his prickly stubble rubbing against the softness of your thighs as his lips found your core. You had gasped as his tongue worked their way into your folds, exploring every inch of you as you writhed and gyrated against him – putty in his hands. He curled a finger inside, then another, as your walls pulsed around him and you cried out into the night, your hands tight fists and your teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your climax was overwhelming, a thousand explosions all happening at once as you shattered into a million pieces. Your mind was fuzzy from the drink, and the weed, and the adrenaline of this moment. Your eyes filled with tears, it was just all too much – your body had being crying out for touch, crying out for release, starved of affection and desperate for warmth for so long.

Harry wiped your eyes with his thumb and kissed you softly as he finally took you under the night sky, thrusting into you with ferocity but never roughly or crassly. You felt him entirely as you hitched your legs around his waist and allowed him to sweep you away with butterfly kisses from your breasts and up to your forehead. The stars shone brightly above as the glow of the moonlight bounced off of your skin.

Itchycoo Park by Small Faces was quietly playing on the car radio, the song echoing around the truck bed, the music filling in the gaps between your collective whimpers and moans -

“It's all too beautiful, it's all too beautiful It's all too beautiful, it's all too beautiful It's all too beautiful, it's all too beautiful”

And it was.

You both climaxed together, Harry’s hips shuddering against yours as he filled you to the brim with his spend. You weren’t on birth control but you didn’t care, all that mattered was this moment – being with him – feeling the warmth between your legs. You both lay in each other’s arms panting as you came down from the high of your orgasm, just watching the stars and enjoying the weight of one another’s bodies.

The hours slipped away and you headed home. Your heart was heavy that it was over, but you were overjoyed it had even happened. You would remember this night forever, it would be your lighthouse in the choppy sea. You could go back to it in your mind anytime you wanted. Your soul had been nourished. Your heart fed.

As you finally pulled up a few streets away from your house you checked your make-up in the mirror, it was silly really as you were only going to bed – but it was a habit, and it gave you a bit longer with Harry. He watched you attentively as you applied a bit more lipstick and carefully smoothed your hair.

“I’m movin’ to the city tomorrow” he whispered.

His words cut through you like a knife, the thought of never seeing him again chilled you. But it was probably for the best.

“Oh that’s great” you told him softly as you cupped his cheek, running a finger along his lips. “What an adventure”.

“Mm. Gonna get a good job. Start a new life”. He looked at you sadly.

“That sounds wonderful. You’ll do great things” you whispered, trying to restrain the tears from falling.

“Come with me” he said sombrely, pressing his forehead against yours.

You laughed softly, your hand clasping the back of his neck. “Oh sweetheart, I’d love to. But you know I can’t”.

“Why not?” he asked, his tone earnest and his eyes wide. “We can get an apartment together. Dance in the living room every day. I can…make you happy”.

The tears began to fall then, and you let them. For a moment you considered it – you could pack a case now and sneak out early in the morning before Lee even woke up. There was some cash stashed in the cookie jar in the kitchen cupboard, you could take that. Get a job out there, maybe wait tables or learn to type. Live with Harry and start a new life. Every fibre of your being told you to go.

But you couldn’t.

“You’ve got your whole life to live, sweetie” you told him kindly. “Go out there and live it, please. For me. You can’t have anyone holding you back”.

He smiled, his eyes watery with tears. He knew you were right.

He pulled a dog eared receipt from the floor of his truck and helped himself to the eyeliner pencil from your purse. He scribbled on the back of the receipt, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrated on the words. He handed it to you silently.

Never forget that each day your beauty catches me off guard. Your Heart Belongs To Me – H

You gasped as you read it, holding it tightly to your chest.

“Thank-you, Harry. I will never forget you”.

He kissed you one last time, a delicate lingering kiss as his fingers stroked your cheek.

“I’ll think of you every time I hear that song”.

“Goodbye, Harry”.

You shared one final look, smiling warmly at one another – so much unspoken between you both, yet everything crystal clear.

And with that you stepped out into the night. It was too hard to look back, so you marched back to your house with your eyes forward, the tears falling. You clutched the note tightly in your hand as you unlocked the front door.

Lee was still out, of course. Oblivious to all that had taken place. You hid the note deep in your dresser, under piles of tangled necklaces and odd earrings which had long lost their partner but you didn’t want to throw out – ever optimistic the other would return. You got into bed and cried yourself to sleep.

That was months ago now. You’d sleepwalked through your life since, your domestic tasks much more gruelling with the absence of your records, your days quieter without Harry for company, your spirit duller now you could no longer dance. If Lee had noticed any change in you then he hadn’t shared it. The whiskey fuelled late nights continued, an endless cycle stumbling into bed in the early hours. Tedious small talk was all that you shared.

You thought about Harry each night, the feeling of his strong arms around you – the softness of his pillowy lips against your collarbone, the groans he made when he felt you wrapped around him. You’d read the note often, clutching it to your body as if you’d somehow be able to feel him through his words.

“It’s all too beautiful

It’s all too beautiful”.

All until now, when Lee had discovered your little secret.

#lee bodecker x you #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker #My heart belongs to you fic #dark!lee bodecker

[earthtooz]

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)

word count: 3.5k

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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 

Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 

Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 

Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 

The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 

You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 

“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 

There it was. The truth. 

Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 

Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 

Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 

You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.

 It was a guard. 

So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 

He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 

“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 

Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 

You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 

You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 

Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 

With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 

“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 

Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 

And so they did. 

The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 

 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 

This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 

Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 

But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 

“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 

He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 

Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 

He had to pay for what he did to you. 

And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 

The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 

The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 

“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 

His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 

And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 

Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 

You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 

Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 

The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 

You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 

“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 

Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 

The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 

Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 

“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 

You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 

Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 

“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 

Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 

“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 

“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 

You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 

“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 

You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 

“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 

Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 

“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 

“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 

You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 

“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 

Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 

“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 

He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 

You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 

“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 

You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 

You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 

“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 

Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 

“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 

“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 

You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 

“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 

“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 

“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 

“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 

You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 

You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 

One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 

Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 

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[etherealyoungk]

into the night | jeon wonwoo

SUMMARY: when you call wonwoo late at night telling him you're stranded, he drops everything to make his way to you (and bring you home safe)

PAIRING: biker!wonwoo x reader

THEMES: biker au, established relationship, terms of endearment, comfort fluff

WARNINGS: speed, fluff, kissing, a little suggestive (only at the end)

WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

A/N: just another very self-indulgent fic

the cool wind blows in your hair as you stand next to your car on the verge of tears. you really don't know how you ended up here - well you do actually. you were upset, overwhelmed from work and exhausted. you just wanted to run away for a bit, get away from life. but right now it seemed like life had caught up and was showing you the reality of your situation.

you pull out your phone from your sling bag and unlock it, your hands opening your contacts, your finger hovering over wonwoo's number. it was late, almost going to be midnight and here you were in the middle of nowhere because your car decided to break down. you wonder whether you should bother wonwoo tonight, having second thoughts, but your finger taps on his contact anyway, dialling his number. you don't think he is going to pick up after a few rings and you move your phone from your ear. that's when you hear the line pick up on the other end, wonwoo's voice floating in your ear.

"yn?", he asks, his voice tinged with a little sleepiness. "i-sorry did i wake you up?", you ask softly, looking down at your feet.

"no, i was up. are you okay?", he asks you, and that question gets you. you bite your lip in an attempt to not cry, feeling overwhelmed all over again.

"wonwoo", you say softly, feeling like an idiot for getting yourself in this situation.

"my love, what's wrong?", his voice comes through, concern laced in his voice and you can hear the sound of some shuffle on the other side.

"can you come get me?", you finally manage to choke out, your voice cracking, betraying your composure. "where are you?", he asks, his tone more alert now.

"i'm kind of stranded", you confess softly, and wonwoo catches onto the tremor in your voice, getting worried. "i don't know where i am, i was just driving and the car broke down", you try to explain softly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek.

"driving? why were you driving so late", he presses, to which you don't respond. you bite your lip in hesitation, unsure whether you want to tell wonwoo the truth or not.

you can hear him sigh softly on the other end before he speaks again. "send me your location and wait in the car, okay. i'm on the way", he says before hanging up.

after sending wonwoo your location, you settled into the quiet of the car, exhaustion weighing heavily upon your eyelids. despite your best efforts to stay awake, you unintentionally dozed off, unaware of the passing time and wonwoo's frantic attempts to reach you, the phone on silent.

in wonwoo's mind, each unanswered call heightens his worry, his imagination conjuring the worst-case scenarios, thinking something might have happened to you. it was unlike you to not respond to his calls. you'd usually reassure him with a quick call or text, but right now you were unreachable and panic ignited in his chest, propelling him to rush towards your location on his bike, each passing moment feeling like an eternity.

he finally reaches your location, finding your car on the side of the road with the blinkers flashing. with wonwoo's heart pounding with every step he takes, he approaches your car, his knuckles knocking against the window, startling you awake.

jumping up at the sudden noise, you blinked groggily, confusion clouding your senses. a figure stood outside, casting a silhouette against the darkness. fear momentarily gripped you until clarity dawned, and you recognised the familiar leather jacket that belonged to wonwoo.

with a shaky exhale, you reached for the door handle. as you stepped out into the cool night air you heard wonwoo say something like "thank god" under his breath as you stepped out.

"are you okay?", he asks, worried, his hair a touseled mess, falling over his forehead and eyes, blowing gently with the breeze. he looks you up and down, looking for any signs of injury.

"i'm okay, i just dozed off", you tell and relief seems to flood in his eyes. "you got me worried there, i called you but you weren't picking up", he says, looking at you, relieved to see you safe and sound.

a gush of wind passes, making you shiver. you cross your arms over your chest to offer some sort of warmth to your body. you stand there in front of wonwoo, avoiding wonwoo's gaze, dreading the question he might ask you about why you were driving out so late in the middle of nowhere. but the question never comes.

"let's go home", he says softly, reassuring in a way, holding out his hand for you to take, making you finally look up at him. you take his hand, walking along with him. he holds your hand gently but there's something comforting about his touch.

that's when you finally spot the bike - wonwoo's sports bike parked on the side of the road, making you turn your head to him.

"it's gonna get cold", he remarks, his voice gentle as he retrieves another jacket from his bike. he holds it out to you and waits patiently as you slip your arms into the sleeves, his touch tender as he settles the jacket over your shoulders. though it was slightly oversized, the garment seemed to embrace you in its warmth, a comforting shield against the biting night air. wonwoo's heart swelled with pride at the sight of you wearing his jacket.

"we're going home on this?", you question, apprehension evident in your voice as wonwoo zips up the jacket around you.

"why? are you scared?" he teases lightly. he knew all too well of your unease with riding on his bike, a fear you had yet to conquer since the beginning of your relationship. the whole thing seemed so intimidating to you, but wonwoo never pushed you to overcome it, understanding you and respecting your space. but tonight, it seemed like you were finally going to face your fear.

"it was the fastest way to get to you", he adds softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear as your eyes dart around nervously, still grappling with the idea of riding on his bike.

"do you trust me?", he asks, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. you lift your eyes to meet his, and nod slowly. "then let's go home".

wonwoo sits on the bike, manoeuvring it into position. he extends his hand, helping you to get on the bike and take a seat. once you're settled in the seat, you can't help but notice its height and weight, a realisation sinking on what you were about to embark on.

wonwoo hands you the spare helmet he brought along with him, and you accept it, your fingers tracing the smooth surface nervously.

"okay, some ground rules," he began, his gaze turning serious as he turns back to look at you.

"hold onto me no matter what or else you're gonna fall off", he says, his gaze turning amused when he sees the flash of panic in your eyes.

"woah not like that, i mean, it's better to hold onto me you know", he adds, chuckling softly and you make a face, smacking him lightly.

"tap me once to tell me you're comfortable, tap twice if you want me to slow down and tap thrice if you want me to stop or you don't feel okay", he instructs carefully. you nod at his intrusions.

"okay?", he asks again and you nod again.

"words, i need words my love", he prompts and you finally speak, squeaking out a small yes, still scared about being on the bike and the corners of his mouth tug up in a small smile.

you watch as he puts on his big biker gloves before taking the helmet from your hands and placing it on your head, adjusting as needed. he puts on his helmet too and waits. you're confused and hold onto his jacket to brace yourself. he opens the visor on his helmet before speaking.

"love, you gotta hold onto me", he says, startling you for a second. "i-i-am", you stutter out in surprise.

"that's not going to work", he says and wordlessly reaches out his hands to yours, guiding them around his waist and you hold onto him now. "that's much better", he remarks, satisfied before telling you he was going to start, putting down his visor.

the bike starts and wonwoo pushes off, riding in the direction home. and fuck, you had underestimated the speed that you'd be going at. your grip around wonwoo tightens and he smiles to himself. wonwoo's grateful for the helmet because gosh, he was melting under your touch truly. he finds you cute, so so cute and all his.

he still remembers the day he first met you. it was at the convenience store where he found you feeding a few of the stray cats that he usually feeds. he'd just gone in to buy some food for them and when he came out walking around to the back, he saw you. you were crouched down as you handed the cats some food and watched them eat with a tender smile on your face. it's was only a few seconds later that you had finally noticed his presence, standing up in a rush.

seeing the strange man in front of you all of a sudden, you panicked, taking a step back until wonwoo spoke.

"you feed them too?", he inquired, tilting his head to the side with geunine curiosity. he remembers the way you nodded your head shyly and the way you took him in, your gaze lingering at his tattoed arm that was exposed, the sleeves rolled up a bit.

from that moment on, your paths seemed to cross more frequently. wonwoo found himself drawn to your presence, often finding excuses to linger around the convenience store in hopes of encountering you once more. you'd get so nervous and shy every time he'd come around on that big bike of his, wearing that leather jacket that made him look so cool and his hair that had grown into a mullet that was a little long and shaggy and fell over his forehead and eyes, making him look hot, paired with the tattoos that covered his one arm, he looked irresistible. and not to forget his towering height - oh he was hot.

it had been almost six months into dating and you'd still never ridden on his bike before, until now. wonwoo gestures his hand in a thumbs up, asking you if you are okay and you tap his chest once. he smiles, glad, but really, you were scared, hanging onto wonwoo for dear life. you feel his hand gently intertwine in yours to reassure you as he slows down at a signal. you sit up a little straighter now, allowing your grip around his waist to loosen just a little.

he starts up again, accelerating again. you clutch onto him a little tighter than last time, closing your eyes. the rush of speed and nerves overwhelming you. you tap him twice, indicating you want him to slow down a little and he does, slowing down at a manageable speed for you but still going at a steady pace. as the minutes pass, you find the courage to open your eyes, lifting your head to take in your surroundings. to your surprise, you realized that you were in familiar territory—the neighbourhood where wonwoo lived. with his home now just a mere ten minutes away, a sense of relief washed over you, tempered with a newfound sense of accomplishment for conquering your fears, if only for a moment.

the rest of the ride is smooth. once wonwoo reaches his home, he parks the bike, turns off the engine, mountings his legs on the ground. your arms are still around his waist, gripping him tighter than ever because the bike was now leaning towards the left since he'd put it on the stand. you were somehow convinced that you were going to fall off if you didn't hold onto wonwoo. he takes off his helmet and sets it down in front of him on the gas tank.

"you okay love?", he asks when you haven't let go of him yet. "yeah i'm okay", you manage out softly, your voice muffled through the helmet.

you reluctantly take your hands off wonwoo and move your hands up to take off your helmet. wonwoo gets down first, his height and long legs making it easier for him than for you. he takes both helmets, placing them on the small bench in his yard.

as you remained perched on the bike, a hesitation rushed through you, with the sudden reluctance to dismount the bike. gazing down at the ground beneath you, you tried to steady yourself, despite knowing there was no real risk of falling. with a nervous gulp, you raised your eyes to meet wonwoo's, finding him regarding you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

wonwoo shakes his head a little, letting out a soft exhale, letting his hair breathe finally. he runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, the strands falling in an adorable mess around his face. he continues to look at you, wondering why you haven't gotten off yet.

"need help?", he prompts. "how am i supposed to-", you trail off, feeling embarrassed. you manage to swing your one leg to the other side and now you're settled in a sideways position, holding onto the bike so you don't slide off entirely. wonwoo walks forward and wordlessly holds onto you, his hands finding your waist to steady you as you peer up at him.

"i'll pick you up, just wrap your legs around my waist," he says calmly, and you furrow your brows for a second before nodding in understanding. wonwoo lifts you up effortlessly and you instinctively encircle your legs around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck for support. his one arm supported you, securely wrapped around your waist as he held you up. the proximity made your heart rate rush and you lean more into him so you don't fall off.

he grabs the bike keys before heading to the door, unlocking the door with ease and walking inside with you, holding onto you securely. you admire wonwoo up close and gosh, he was so handsome and pretty.

wonwoo sets you down on the kitchen island countertop, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment as you look at him. as you meet his eyes, you can't help but notice how your height almost matches his towering height now. he gives you a small but comforting smile before his hands move off your waist. he unzips his jacket, taking it off, only to expose his tattoed arm as he slides the jacket off, making you gasp ever so softly at the sight. you'd seen wonwoo's tattoos plenty of times before, but they never failed to leave you in awe every time you saw them. despite wonwoo's intimidating appearance - for someone who looked cold, badass and was so buff, he was so soft, sweet and gentle. it was a contrast that never failed to captivate you, drawing you closer to the enigma that was wonwoo.

wonwoo's wearing a sleeveless compression shirt and as you look at him, it's slowly turning your brain to mush with the way it was hugging his body perfectly at all the right places, showing off his build and muscles. the way the fabric hugged and accentuated every sculpted muscle of his sent your thoughts spiralling in a whirlwind. you have to tear your eyes away, opting to look at your lap instead, feeling the rush of heat flood your cheeks. wonwoo smirks to himself when he catches you checking him out and stealing glances at him, a little boost to his ego.

he takes off the gloves, placing them on the counter and finally, his attention is back on you. he looks at you, stepping forward so that he was closer, standing between your legs as he lifts your chin up so that you can meet his gaze.

"what's going on?", he asks softly, his hand caressing your cheek as he looks at you sweetly. your eyes dart to the side before returning to his unwavering gaze.

"i-i don't know", you confess as you look at him. "i just needed some space i guess, everything got too much", you tell and his gaze softens as he looks at you.

"next time you want to escape, at least call me, i can take you", he murmurs, his words carrying a sense of reassurance and comfort. you gulp at the closeness and his words as he stares into your soul.

"yeah-okay", you mumbled softly, blinking at him, getting nervous again. the way wonwoo could render you a shy nervous mess in mere seconds was something that needed to be studied.

before you can dwell on your response more , wonwoo closes the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender and gentle kiss. a rush of warmth floods your body and in that moment, everything seems to stop. he pulls away and you hope he can't hear how loud and fast your heart is beating.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him forward as you bury your face in his chest, engulfing him in a hug. wonwoo's arms instantly wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him, letting you bask in his embrace, the comforting weight of his presence grounding you as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. at that moment, amidst the warmth of his embrace, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of quiet intimacy.

bonus: the intrusive thoughts really won here

you riding the bike with wonwoo again, the wind is refreshing as he glides on the roads. after that day, you'd gotten a little more confident and okay with riding on wonwoo's bike. but now, it was like second nature to you. your hands are around wonwoo's waist before you have a little mischievous thought and you smile to yourself. your hands slowly creep up to his chest, your fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as you slowly undo them. wonwoo has no idea what's happening until he glances dow n at the feeling of your hands on his chest, seeing what you are doing.

"what are you doing?", he asks, his voice filling your helmet and you suppress the urge to laugh.

"i'm showing the world how sexy my boyfriend is, though i should be gatekeeping you actually", you tease, undoing another button as wonwoo's shirt now hangs on for dear life. your hands creep up under his shirt and you hear the soft groan he lets out as your hands caress his abs and you grin, satisfied knowing the effect you were having on him.

"oh love, you are so in for it when we get home", he says making you chuckle as you hug him tighter.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @kyeomyun @lvlystars @blue-jisungs @wootify @ihrtboo @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq

@joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @mirxzii @wheeboo @writingmeraki @wqnwoos

#another very self indulgent fic #skye's writing! #k-labels #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt drabbles #jeon wonwoo

[highdefhoetry]

tags: NSFW!!! female reader, MMF threesome, penetration (penis in vagina), unprotected sex, possessiveness, jealousy, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cream pies, dirty talk, big dick, size kink, size difference, hair pulling, biting, marking

summary: sequel to this fic. gojo and toji fight over who fucks you better.

word count: 1,441

The knock had been a warning. Satoru Gojo had no intention of waiting for you to answer, nor did he have any intention of letting Toji Fushiguro take what was rightfully his. Not after what he’d just heard. He kicks open the door and waltzes inside without so much as a greeting. Hands in his pockets, lips curled into a smirk.

Your heart pulses steadily as the two giants stare you down, devouring your nude body with their piercing eyes as you stand before them completely bare. Gojo on your left. Toji at your right. You back presses against the cold wall as you suddenly find yourself cornered by two powerful men that didn’t know how to share. Both tower over you at their massive heights, like two rabid wolves leering at their prey.

Satoru rips the dark blindfold off his face, shoves it in his pocket, gazes deeply into your eyes as his sparkling cerulean blues drink up the sight of your nakedness. Something within them, wild and untamed, threatening to break loose. 

“What a naughty girl you are, (Y/N). Shacking up with a loser like him, when I’m the only one you need.” Gojo says as he takes your hand in his, planting soft kisses on the inside of your wrist as he looks down at you with big, doe eyes. “You’re breaking my heart.”

You feel his right hand on the side of your neck, caressing the sensitive skin before sliding upwards, his fingers intertwining themselves in your hair. A flurry of breathy gasps fall from your lips.

Toji is a bit more aggressive. Displeased, he seizes your other arm, snakes his free hand around your back to rest on your waist, pulls you towards him with viscous strength. 

“Don’t be stupid, (Y/N),” he growls into your ear after dragging his teeth up your neck. “Remember who you belong to.”

Your heart races as their battle continues.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Gojo wraps his big hand around the back of your neck, yanks you back to him so he can kiss and nibble your ear in between whispered threats. “You’re mine, (Y/N).”

Toji snarls at his nemesis, bares his teeth like a savage beast as if preparing to tear apart this trespasser who has stepped into his territory.

“Back off, brat.”

“Get bent, old man.”

You feel yourself being pulled backwards onto the bed. They toss you down on your back like a ragdoll, pin your arms and legs down with their long limbs. Both men on either side. Your heart pummels your chest, thumping so loud you can barely hear your own breath while your eyes dart back and forth from Gojo’s wide smile to Toji’s deep frown.

“Well, (Y/N)?” Gojo smiles as he strokes your hair. “Let’s show him all the cute little noises you make whenever you fuck me."

You feel his large, weathered hand drift down your side, stopping to caress your hip before resting on the top of your thigh. His soft movements make you writhe in pleasure, fueling Toji’s anger. 

“Not before we show this stupid brat how hard I can make you cum,” he grumbles in a deep, gravelly baritone. Somehow he regains his dominance, forces himself into a position on top while Gojo is pushed to the side. He balls his fists in your hair, yanking your head to the side, allowing him full access to your vulnerable neck. You feel his rough, calloused hand squeezing your breasts while his mouth sucks on your skin so hard it leaves red marks. And once you’ve been warmed up, he pushes his fingers inside you. One at first, then two, both curling upwards in search of that spongy spot that makes you scream. He finds it in seconds, grinning wickedly as he watches your entire body tremble with pleasure. You feel yourself cum all over his fingers, letting out high-pitched shrieks as your orgasm sends shockwaves through your body. 

He pulls out his finger and licks them clean, savoring the taste of your juices. 

“That’s my girl…” he croons.

As you lay there panting heavily, skin dampened with sweat, your eyes turn to Gojo. He patiently waits for Toji to finish, donning a terrifyingly serene smile. Then, in one swift and graceful motion, he takes control, shoving his way to the top so his hands can work their magic. Toji disappears into your peripheral as Gojo strokes the undersides of your breasts, the sensitive areas he discovered during one of the nights you’d spent together. His touch is electric, like lightning. You whimper as his fingers trail down your sides, ghosting the tender skin on your hips and inner thighs.

“He's so aggressive with you,” Gojo complains in a lighthearted tone, teases your clit with one finger, circles around the hood while he relishes the way you arch your back and whimper. “You prefer a much gentler touch. Right, baby?”

He cups your cheeks in his hands, runs a thumb across your bottom lip. You feel his desperate lips press against yours, and invite his tongue inside to dance. He kisses your jaw, drags his lips down your neck. His tongue flicks your skin, making you cry out with every little taste of you he steals. 

"There we go," he smiles into his kiss, making you shudder with his words. "Cum for me, baby."

Your second orgasm comes just as easily as the first. Gojo’s fluttered words, the gentle teasing on your clit, and the delicate touch of his hands on your chest bring you over the edge. He coaxes out your orgasm, grinning madly as he watches you unravel. Your throat feels raw from the constant cries of pleasure both men have been forcing out of you, yet your moans do not cease. 

Neither men allow you any respite. A pair of forceful hands take hold of you, pulling you on top of a pissed off Toji who is now laying on his back in the bed. He yanks down his boxers, reveals his throbbing, pulsing cock. Before you can utter a sound, he lifts you up, then sets you down with your hole slowly taking him in. You throw back your head and moan, hearing your voice crack as your wall clench tightly around his dick. He lets out a deep, rugged moan that sounds like the bellow of an animal. His hands remain on your waist, controlling every one your movements. You hold onto his hands for dear life, digging your nails into his skin as you squeeze your eyes shut and feel yourself overcome with pleasure.

Meanwhile, Gojo climbs behind you, his own boxers long discarded somewhere on the floor. He grabs your hips while you’re in the air, stealing you from Toji once more, then shoves his own cock inside of you without warning. The sudden feeling of his massive dick inside you almost makes you cry. Now in doggy position, you surrender to him and sink your nails into Toji’s shoulders, bracing yourself while Satoru Gojo slams into you again and again and again.

They take turns stealing you, pumping their dicks in your tight hole as you whimper and cry for more. Toji ends up finishing first; you sit on his cock one last time and throw back your head as you feel his warm cum fill you up. You clench your walls around his pulsing dick one last time, and don’t release him until he’s completely empty. And while he lays limp on the bed, Gojo grabs your hips once more, caring not for the thick white cum leaking out of your pussy. He shoves himself inside, reclaims your hole as his. His strokes are quick, yet deep. He’s thrusting so fast you see stars, the corners of your vision going fuzzy. When he finally cums, you feel that same warmth spreading through your body and let out a sigh of relief. You’re panting like hell, sweating bullets as you gasp for air. 

You collapse onto the bed, and Gojo follows suit. Sandwiched between the two, you take a moment to catch your breath and still the rapid beating of your heart. You feel two sets of hands exploring your body, caressing your tender breasts and stomach, stroking your hips and thighs. Gojo buries his face in your neck, kissing it softly. Toji grabs your chin and pulls your face towards his for a kiss. 

“(Y/N)...” Gojo murmurs in one ear. “Say it. Say that you’re mine.”

“(Y/N),” Toji growls into the other. “Be a good girl and tell me who you belong to.”

You start to speak, but all that comes out is a fluttered sigh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@oatmealdrool @magalimachete @heartbroken-whoore @freebananabeard @niname-sensei hope u enjoyed <3

#gojo x reader #toji x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #toji smut #minors dni #satoru gojo x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #reader insert #x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

[vagabond-umlaut]

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝