#Body Snatched series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diddybok · 9 months

Note

Request: Skz accidentally finding out one of reader’s kinks… could be a drabble or text! <3

oh my god…yes. happy birthday to me😌

18+ below the cut peeps

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in anyway represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: hyung line x gn!reader

➩genre(s): smut

➩warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, kinks: hair pulling, spit, choking, humiliation. penetration (not specified what hole. this one is for all the delulus out there)

➩author’s note: yeah, smut. just nasty smut. mAy have gotten carried away with this. mAy have had some revelations. mAy be chronically down bad for hyunjin after this…and EYE wrote it.

➩part(s): next

chris | hair pulling | 0.9k (955) words

You were laying on the bed next to Chris. You watching the newest installment of the Bridgerton series, and he playing Pokemon Go. Your friends and the boys constantly tease the two of you saying that you act like a couple when really you aren’t. Chris gets annoyed, much more than he likes to admit, at the constant allegation. However, you don’t pay it any mind. If anything you add fuel to the fire.

Ping…ping…ping

You groan loudly and press pause on your show.

“If you could be so kind to turn the ringer on your phone off? I’m trying to watch a sexy scene and your pinging is taking me out the moment!” You say turning your attention to Chris, his eyes still glued to the screen.

He just hums in response but makes no move to flip the switch on the side of his phone.

Ping…ping…ping

He chuckles lowly before swiping the notification up to continue his battle. You crawl over to him and snatch his phone from his hand. It seems you will have to see for yourself just who is blowing up his phone.

“Y/n give it back!” He reaches over to grab the phone but you turn your whole body away from him, laughing as you curl up tightly trying to read the notifications.

“My my my, who is Aaliyah?” You gasp dramatically. “I miss you so much baby, can’t wait ‘til I can see you again, need you bad Channie” You mimic in a high pitched voice.

“Y/n I’m serious just give it back!” He growls. It has now turned into a scramble of sorts. You underneath, curled up in a foetal position. Him, on top as he tries to pry your body open to retrieve his phone.

Chris accidentally releases his grasp on you and in that moment you roll from underneath him. Planning to escape out of his room, you hastily make a move to climb off the bed.

It all happened so quickly. The grab. The noise. The drop of the phone. The awkward silence.

In your attempt to flee, Chris had grabbed you by your hair and yanked you back. You could have wailed, could have screamed, but you did neither. No, what you did was far worse.

You had released a guttural moan.

You. Moaning because Chris pulled your hair.

Neither of you dared to speak, nor look each other in the eyes. You were embarrassed to say the least. Your best friend had just discovered that you have a hair pulling kink. He on the other hand took one too many deep breaths to calm himself. He has never heard you make a noise like that before. Much less because of him.

“I, ahem- your phone. I’m sorry…you can have it back.” You say keeping your eyes glued to his bedsheets as you slide the phone over to his leg.

You go to retract your hand quickly so that you can go get a glass of water to cool yourself down. He grabs your wrist almost instantaneously. Not letting you get far at all.

“Look at me.” He demands. You do as he says, slowly bringing your eyes to meet his. You don’t have to look down at his chest to detect the way it rises and falls heavily.

He gently runs his hand all the way up your arm, an agenda clearly on his mind. You’re frozen in place as you feel his hand creep to the nape of your neck, his fingers spreading wide as they make their way into your hair.

Without warning, he tugs your head back harshly causing another involuntary moan to fall from your lips. A soft gasp is released from Chris, clearly enjoying the way you react to the action.

You guess that’s how you found yourself in this predicament. Knees no doubt bruising as you take Chris’ cock repeatedly down the depths of your throat.

His hand was embedded deeply into your hair, gripping it tight and using it as a leverage to fuck himself into your mouth.

“Fuck~ just like that Y/n. Mm, m’gonna use you as my personal fuck toy. Forget all the other girls I see. Just pull your hair whenever I need you huh? I don’t know why I didn’t think about it earlier.” Chris says more to himself than to you, releasing a small whine.

The picture that this will leave in your mind is sure to be one that will fog your brain for the next couple of months at least. You never really thought about Chris in this way. Perhaps in the beginning stages of your friendship, but it quickly went away when you found out he was a manwhore.

Nothing wrong with that of course, you never had any reason to judge him for it. But god if this is what you were missing. You most definitely would not mind being his personal fuck toy. Platonically of course…

Your eyes are currently watering, as you gag and swallow. Making Chris grip your hair tighter making you moan. That was the breaking point for him as he unloads into your mouth. Not giving you any chance to waste a single drop.

He releases his hold on you, slowly pulling out of your mouth before slapping the tip on your cheek a couple times.

You look up at him, your glossed over eyes making him coo at you as he strokes your head softly.

“I hope your head isn’t too sore yet, ‘cause I’m gonna use it to fuck you back onto my cock, okay?” Chris says with a devilish smile.

Forget the sexy scene on television, you’re currently living in the sexiest one of all!

minho | spit | 0.6k (673) words

You and Minho are getting ready for bed after a long day of camping activities. You’re going back home from Korea tomorrow night so you wanted to spend as much time with your best friend as you could.

Even if that meant agreeing to do whatever he says for the last few days you shared together. Surprisingly, it was a lot of fun. You went fishing and caught a fish. You learnt how to build a campfire from scratch. Went kayaking and almost tipped it over. Let Minho spit in your mouth—

Wait, what?

You shake your head to come back to reality. Minho swirls water around in his mouth before spitting it out into the sink.

He wipes his mouth as he looks up at you, your gaze seemingly transfixed onto his mouth.

He still tastes the toothpaste in his mouth so he leans back over the sink about to spit, but then he looks up at you. Holding your unwavering gaze.

He spits slowly, the saliva descending down into the sink. As it disconnects, he licks his bottom lip smirking at you.

You watched the whole ordeal, obviously. Which explains why you suddenly squeeze your thighs, shifting from one foot to another.

“Either I’m living in a dream right now, or you, Y/n, are simply filthy.”

“Huh?” You say blinking rapidly.

“Huh? Huh?” He mocks, walking over to you.

What is wrong with you? Snap out of it! That is your best friend, you definitely should not be thinking about him spitting in your mouth as you get pounded by his dick.

“I can practically hear your thoughts. That or you’re speaking aloud.” He smirks, now inches away from your face.

It seems you finally regain consciousness as your hands claw at the sheets. Minho pummels you from behind at a relentless pace, making you drool.

You hear him chuckle, his hand falling beneath your chin to catch any saliva before bringing it up to smear on your mouth.

His hand moves to the underside of your jaw, forcing your head back. Your view of him now upside down as he doesn’t slow the pace.

“Are you gonna admit that you’re a filthy little slut who likes spit?” He teases, smiling down at you.

You can only mewl in response, he’s got you going dumb and he certainly enjoys it.

Bringing his hand up to your cheeks, he squeezes gently. Getting you to open your mouth. You do, even going as far to stick your tongue out.

“Oh look how obedient you are.” He spits into your mouth. His hold on your jaw releases as he moves that hand to cup your chest, hoisting you up so your back, though arched, is against his chest.

He fucks up into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your moans fill the tent. Those other poor people are no doubt just trying to enjoy their family camping trip, and here comes the two of you; unapologetically loud as shit.

“M-Minho…m’close.” You whine. He just chuckles in response, stroking that sweet spot inside of you to push you over the edge.

It isn’t long before you’re quivering on him, your body already becoming limp as your eyes roll into the back of your head reaching that sweet release. Before you can lavish in the feeling, you’re pulled off of him and he guides your head back to his pelvis.

“You’re gonna swallow every last drop I give you m’kay? No spitting this out sweetheart.” Minho says as he moans. Pumping himself faster as he unloads his seed into your mouth which you gladly swallow.

He uses the tip of his cock to smear any remnants of his climax on your lips. He smiles down at you, praising you for doing such a good job whilst also saying how dirty you are.

This will certainly make your relationship with him all the more questionable. Let’s hope it won’t be the only thing that clouds your mind on the flight home!

changbin | choking | 0.8k (898) words

You and Changbin are in the park having a cutesy little picnic. You may or may not have forced him to come with you since your other friends cancelled at the last minute and you had prepared so much. It’s good that you and Changbin are so alike because neither of you like to waste any food.

You have both been snacking on some grapes, when you look down and see there is only one left on the vine. Quickly whilst his attention was elsewhere, you pluck the grape from its vine.

You turn your head as you go to put the grape into your mouth, but a firm hand on your wrist stops you.

“You swear you’re like a ninja.” Changbin laughs as you turn to look at him with squinted eyes. He just shakes his head, his other hand held out awaiting the grape.

You look at his hand, the grape, his hand again and then back up to his face.

“If you think I’m giving you this grape, then you are surely mistaken.” You say, you’re tone curt.

Changbin looks at you, before shaking his head overzealously. You look at him confused.

“Why are you shaking your head at me?”

“Sorely.”

“What?”

“You said surely mistaken. It’s sorely mistaken, doofus.” He says before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

You look momentarily taken aback, a quiet ‘oh’ coming out of your mouth before you look at Changbin’s laughing state.

“For that, I’m taking the grape.” He says, plucking the grape from your hand and putting it in his mouth. He starts to chew it teasingly in your face, closing his eyes as he does so.

Successfully irked, you lunge towards him from your seated position. Unfortunately for your lacklustre skills, he easily manoeuvres you so that your back is against his chest as his bicep and forearm enclose your throat.

He squeezes playfully, well aware that the two of you are in public.

“Nice try, munchkin. You’re gonna have to be faster than that.” Changbin gloats.

You bring your hands up to hold his arm, your hands barely able to enclose his whole forearm. You try to pry his arm off but it’s to no avail as he doesn’t budge.

He squeezes tighter, his mouth moving closer to your ears.

“You know I’m not even trying right?” He teasingly whispers into your ear.

“Bin unhand me.” You plead.

“What, you’ve given up already?”

“If you squeeze my throat any tighter, I am not responsible for the…sounds that will come out of me.” You say tapping his forearm.

Changbin’s eyes widen slightly as he realises what you meant. He releases you and you crawl back to the other side of the picnic blanket, fixing your outfit and your hair, pretending like you didn’t say what you just said.

“You mean to tell me that me choking you was turning you on?” He asks with genuinity.

You turn to him, shrugging a little. The way you act so nonchalant clearly has an effect on him as he tries not to get turned on himself.

It didn’t work, for either of you, as you find yourself in the back of his car sitting on his legs as his fingers pump viciously in and out of you.

“Shh, you gotta be quiet. Don’t want people to start getting suspicious.” Changbin speaks into your ear.

You do your best to be quiet, but you don’t trust yourself so you put a hand over your mouth.

“Fuck you’re gripping my fingers so tight. Mm I can’t wait to ruin you. ‘Cause I’m gonna. Yeah, fuck you clenched when I said that. Want me to ruin you, don’t you my sweet?” Changbin purrs.

Your other hand grips his thigh, the coil within the pit of your stomach starting to tighten. You remove your hand from your mouth as your breath starts to quicken, small whines being released here and there.

“Bin, I can’t hold it.” You whine.

“You don’t have to hold it sweetness. Come for me.” He says his hand going to your neck and pressing on the sides of your throat.

The restriction of air and the squeeze of his hand mixed with his fingers has you seeing stars. Your moan caught in your throat as you orgasm. The lack of air prolongs your release and unfortunately for Changbin, you make a mess all over the backseat of his car.

He smiles as he watches you get lost in the pleasure. He loosens his grip on your neck and relishes in your pants as you try to catch your breath.

“Well I’m going to need to deep clean my car, but it was so worth it.” Changbin says, rubbing you through your high and placing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

You move yourself off of his lap, momentarily looking out the window to see if there were any wanderers that got too curious. Taking a deep breath your eyes meet Changbin’s and he looks at you with a sweet, unwavering smile.

“What’s that look for?…”

“Oh nothing, just thinking about all the places m’gonna fuck you when we get back to mine.” Changbin says, his smile widening even more.

Oh wow, you’re in for a long night ahead of you. Better hope those grapes gave you enough energy for the rest of the day!

hyunjin | humiliation | 1.4k (1446) words

Hyunjin is teaching you part of his dance routine in the studio. You were bored, and teaching somebody helps him to recount the steps.

For the most part, you were able to keep up with him. Picking up the steps with ease until there was a particularly hard move.

You can see the frustration building on Hyunjin’s face as you keep messing up this step. The one he tried to teach you fifteen minutes ago…

“Y/n no. Lift your arm like this, this.” He says demonstrating the correct way to do it.

You copy the motion. You think that you are nailing it and that he is just being too pedantic which explains his elongated sigh.

“Hyunjin, I don't know what you think I’m doing wrong. I’m literally doing it the way you do it!” You say, now getting frustrated at him and his perfectionist ways.

He looks at you through the mirror, scoffing and doing the dance move how you did it. Clearly over-exaggerating the way you did it.

“Does that look right to you? No, it doesn’t. It’s not even a hard step Y/n and you’re struggling to do it.” He says, walking back over to the laptop to replay the song.

This is embarrassing. You should feel embarrassed. Yet you hide a smile. There’s something about the way Hyunjin gets riled up and then proceeds to belittle you for clearly not being a professional dancer like he is.

Ridiculous isn’t it?

“Okay let’s go from the top.” Hyunjin says, counting the both of you in.

The song plays and you both dance to the rhythm. Everything was going swell until you purposefully messed up a move that you know you have no trouble doing.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

You wish you could take a mental picture of Hyunjin’s scowl and print it out. He looks at you, almost pitiful as he turns down the music, his hands on his hip as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

“What are you fucking inept or something? What’s going on? You don’t know your left from your rights? Hm? You need me to teach you the alphabet whilst we’re at it?” Hyunjin taunts, now walking towards you.

You say nothing, looking up at him with eyes as innocent as you can get them.

“Cat caught your tongue? Or have you just become so dumb that you can’t even speak anymore?” Hyunjin speaks lowly, backing you into the full length mirror.

He raises a single eyebrow at you, waiting for you to say something. He huffs out a laugh when he realises you’re not going to respond, but rather cower beneath him.

You really are spoiled aren’t you? It seems it is so because you got whatever you wanted from this. One moment he pinned you up against the wall, you shoving your tongue down his throat. Then he was shoving his dick down your throat. And now here you are, on all fours, forced to watch as he thrusts harshly into you from behind.

“This what you needed hm? You just needed to be fucked didn’t you. Naw, dumb baby’s just too stupid to ask for what they want so they decide to piss me off instead huh?” Hyunjin grunts landing a smack on your backside.

You moan embarrassingly loud, jolting forwards slightly as you feel the impact of his hand on your flesh.

The song plays in the background adding to the already sexual tension that is in the dance studio.

Hyunjin stops thrusting, looking at you in the mirror as you stumble a little. The rhythm of thrusts throwing you off as your hips stutter in their movement.

“You’re gonna fuck yourself on my dick to the beat of the song. See if you’re not completely useless. It would be wise not to piss me off further so if you do a good job, maybe I’ll be nice.” Hyunjin says crossing his arms.

You wait to see if he was bluffing, looking back at him only to be met with a raise of his eyebrow. You turn back around, meeting his gaze in the mirror. You tune your ears to the song and start throwing it back to the beat. (y’all why this make me bust out laughing okay sorry continue.)

For the first two counts of eight, you were doing pretty well. Matching each beat with the sound of your bottom colliding with his pelvis. He watches you intently as if it were you dancing. He bites his lip, holding back his own moans.

The chorus of the song comes along and you miss a count. You try to catch up by speeding up your movements, but that just feels too good. Hyunjin tsks at you.

“You can’t even do this correctly. How embarrassing Y/n. Is there anything you can do without my help?” Hyunjin says shaking his head as he grabs both of your arms.

You clench around him at his words, making his tough exterior falter ever so slightly as he curses under his breath at the way you squeeze him so tightly.

He holds your arms like handles as he repeatedly slams you back onto him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and then close tightly as he reaches deeper, continuously hitting that sweet spot inside.

“You better open your fuckin’ eyes and watch as you take what I give you.” He says, his tongue coming out to wet his lip as he smirks mischievously.

You flutter your eyes open, meeting his gaze in the mirror as your mouth hangs open releasing silent moans. Who knew that being humiliated would turn you on to the point it has? You watch his face contort into concentration. Sweat pouring down his face and falling onto your lower back.

“Hyune, just like that, please. I’m so close.” You whine.

He tilts his head, one of his hands releasing your wrist to reach beneath you and between your thighs, rubbing you quickly.

“Oh yeah? And you think you deserve it?” He teases.

You nod relentlessly, not even caring for his permission as you spasm around him as he lands a particularly powerful thrust.

As he watches you come undone on him he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head before chasing his own release.

“Mm, where’d you want it? Inside? So it drips down your thighs for everyone to see? Ah fuck, yeah I think so.” He says, small whines leaving his throat.

He pushes your body all the way down as he now lays on top of you, rutting into you. He lifts one leg up to ground him so he can reach deeper, the rocking motion overstimulating you as you convulse around him once more. You choke out a sob, tears starting to run down your face.

He catches your expression in the mirror, the tears streaming down and it sends him over the edge. With one final rock, he stills as his cock twitches deep inside of you. Painting your walls white deep inside.

He rests his forehead on the back of your head. Both of you spent as the sounds of heavy breathing and the song fill the room.

He slowly pulls out of you, both of you whining at the loss of the warmth. He rolls you over, placing a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

“Y/n? Are you still with me?” He asks, glancing over your face and down your body. He sees some of his cum trailing out of you and he uses his fingers to push it back in. Fixated on the way your hole envelopes his fingers so accommodatingly.

He only stops when he feels your hand push his chest and he chuckles lightly.

“You know you really don’t take orders well. I think I need to train you.” He says, brushing a stray hair out of your face as you finally open your eyes and look up at him.

He hums softly, admiring you before getting up and sorting himself out so that he is decent to the eyes of the public again.

“Get up. That wasn’t a reward, you’re going to just have to dance with my cum running down your legs now. The quicker you get the choreography, the quicker you’ll get to shower.” Hyunjin says walking over to the laptop and restarting the song.

He leaves you to get yourself up on wobbly arms and you smile to yourself. He should know by now that you most certainly do not put up without a fight.

Hopefully you don’t “accidentally” mess up any more of the moves and make him belittle you again…

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

#stray kids #skz fanfic #skz #stray kids x gn reader #skz x gn reader #stray kids felix #stray kids x reader #stray kids jeongin #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids seungmin #stray kids minho #stray kids han #stray kids changbin #stray kids bang chan #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #stray kids fanfic

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awearywritersworld · 5 months

Text

i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend

sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist

"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.

"i'll pass."

sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.

"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"

"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."

"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."

"it's gotten me this far."

you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.

making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."

he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus

you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.

"what's it about?"

"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."

"your subtly never ceases to amaze."

"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."

he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"

you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"

"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."

he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.

clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.

he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.

"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.

your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."

"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"

"not if you're cheating, now let me see."

"no."

you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.

swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.

with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"

you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."

"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"

you gasp. "so you admit it?"

"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.

"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"

he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."

"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.

he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.

sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.

leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).

"please?" you repeat.

he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.

sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?

no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"

grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.

when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.

"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."

"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."

you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.

"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."

he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"

sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."

yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"

"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."

"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"

"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.

"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."

"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."

"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.

"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"

yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.

sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."

his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.

but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.

you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.

you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.

"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.

"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.

"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.

yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.

once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"

"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."

when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.

he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.

around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.

he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."

you finally turn to face him. "really?"

"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."

"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off."

you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"

"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."

you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"

"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.

"wait. please don't go."

just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.

when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.

"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."

are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.

moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.

he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.

you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.

well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.

"then why are you upset with me?"

his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."

"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"

"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."

he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?

he probably deserves it anyway.

why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?

oh, right. because you care about him.

you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.

once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.

with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.

so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.

it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.

and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.

it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.

he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.

his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.

your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.

he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.

when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."

he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"

his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."

ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.

upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."

he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.

you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.

"sukuna?"

he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"

you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"

"no reason."

"did you enjoy it?"

"yes."

"why?"

he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"

you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."

"and the creature?"

"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."

you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."

and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:

"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”

his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.

you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.

"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"

"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."

he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."

"and you didn't care for it?"

"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."

your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"

"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."

your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"

he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.

"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."

"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.

he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."

you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.

he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."

he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.

"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"

sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.

"no," he answers decidedly.

looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.

he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.

is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.

"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.

his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.

for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.

he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?

his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"

you tilt your head to the side. "why?"

"because even if it's made me into a monster..."

for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—

"all of my actions have led me to you."

your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.

you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.

as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."

a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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jyoongim · 3 months

Text

MasterList/Taglist

These are all hazbin hotel Alastor imagines!!!

finally!!!! Now you can find all writings for the Radio Demon❤️📻

Please comment so you can be added

Comment if so I can keep up to tag PLEASE

Some have warnings and others don’t so read at your own risk!!!!

Key notes: I don’t not write male inserts

MINORS IF YOU ARE NOT 16+(I’m giving grace) DO NOT READ OR COMMENT!!!!!!!!

Fem!= female bodied reader

Yan!= yandere

NSFW = smut (sexual content) 18+

Fluff= fluff fic

Ch= chubby reader

DC= dubious content

NC= non-consent

Plat= platonic pair

I might post these to A03 so please be on the lookout for!!!!

Alastor Requests

Acts of service

Cockwarming

Submissive Alastor

Jealous Alastor

A reminder to All

Pretty princess

Love language

Deal of a lifetime

Short fluff

Perfect wife

Retired pornstar

Run Darlin

Appetence

Ears

In the club

Nonbinary

More like a cat

Not so big and bad

Valentine special ❤️

Valentine special 2❤️

Cannibalism 1 / Cannibalism 2

Ruined Redemption

Bagged a baddie

We meet again

Mornings after

His sweet melody

Snatch & saved

Pretty lady

Friends

3 in 1

Jealous hubby

Behind Bars

Need someone older

Nine tails

Agape

Unwillingly Yours

Short Alastor series

A Deal With God

Price to Pay

Anyway you want me baby

Dangerously in love

Always a Radio Star

~BLOOD & BLISS~

A03 - in bio will link later

Love you all😩 happy reading!!!!

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somerandomdudelmao · 6 months

Note

CASS! YOUR BRAIN! IT'S SO... HUGE!!!!Okay, okay. So, to recap what you have confirmed to us-

The robot that we see is NOT controlled by Donnie's spirit. We see that Donnie is able to control it via headset, etc.

Also, the reason this "Plan B" did NOT work is because Casey got possessed by Don's Hamato spirit in a memory from the future on accident.

It was going to work. He was literally mid-crawl before Casey swooped in and tried to help him but ended up somehow bringing his spirit into the past and cloning him a new body with plot serum.

We don't know if this robot would have worked. We don't know if Donnie even had enough equipment to make a robot body like the one he made for Raph. Maybe it would have failed. Maybe everything would've been okay. I just don't know.

But that's the beauty of this series. You planned this since you first decided how Donnie was going to die. Yes, you've said that you're kind of as clueless as we are at times when it comes to "what's next." But the amount of detail you put into this is ASTOUNDING!

Even with your VERY FIRST COMIC, you used Don's failed experiment with Leo and turned it into another chapter where we found out that Donnie was trying to find a cure for Mikey's peepawed body!!!

The fact that Donnie not only didn't say anything before he died because you knew that it "wasn't the end for him," but he also had a plan B that he didn't tell anybody about hence the guilty faces, the reasurrences, and ignoring Leo's "we don't need to worry" talks. And he couldn't simply tell them that "everything was gonna be okay" because his plan possibly wouldn't even work!!!

AND THAT'S WHY HE HAD A BREAKDOWN WHEN HE LOOKED BACK AT ALL THE RECORDINGS OF THE RESISTANCE FAILING BECAUSE NOT ONLY IS HE WATCHING EVERYONE HE TRIED TO PROTECT WITH EVERYTHING HE HAD DIE BEFORE HIS EYES, BUT HE ALSO REALIZED THAT HE FAILED THEM AND LEFT THEM WITH NOTHING!!! HE FEELS SO USELESS AND GUILTY FOR SOMETHING HE HAD NO CONTROL OVER!!!!

Even since we first met Raph, we got Don's theory about how storing spirits into mechs worked. He probably used the rest of their most valuable resources to even BUILD that thing.

I don't know if when they all realize that Casey is actually the reason Mikey couldn't sense any of their spirits because he snatched them up and brought them to the past/different timeline that they're either gonna feel angry or like "Oh!....oh." You know?

It seems to me that they still don't know the answer to that question. With all of them back, I thought they would have by now, but I guess we'll see pretty soon.

A lot of things could happen in this chapter. Good things, bad things, it's quite a toss-up. Let's just hope this whole big misunderstanding comes to a big finish soon. Donnie deserves a comeback. Everyone deserves to have a breather where they can all just...talk. Cause' by GOD there is a lot to talk about. I know they had some downtime before Miwa showed up, but Donnie's still working. If Donnie doesn't finally open up to his family by the end of this, I'm bringing out the beach balls, I swear.

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explicit-tae · 6 months

Text

Ungodly Hour: Day 3

You’re feeling petty, so sending Jungkook nudes is how you get your revenge on him for leaving you.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.212

Warning: jungkook getting clowned, face riding, oral sex, smut, simp jungkook, dirty talking, ass slapping, shit talking reader bs that's what she does, slight sexting

You ponder what life would be like if you lived with Jungkook - the weekend is long and waking up besides the man felt nice. He cooked breakfast after allowing you to sleep in, you two eating together. You’d shower, spend the day together (sex came randomly in between) and then go to bed.

Work was a task you’d dreaded, but you’d refuse to give up so quickly, even when Jungkook agreed to your joke of quitting, stating that you could always live off of him - an agreement the man was too quick to settle for.

Even after your boring, easy job, you acted as if it was the worst day of your life. Jungkook had bought takeout to make up for it and you were content for a while.

And now, you and Jungkook are in his bathroom, you attempting to concentrate on your task. You were dressed in nothing but a black silk robe - a gift from Jungkook - the both of you fresh out of the shower. He has a match one that he tied loosely around himself.

“Is it supposed to burn?” Jungkook asks, opening one eye to look at you. He sits on his closed toilet, you directly in front of him.

“If you ask me that one more time, Jungkook, I swear-”

“You want me to fuck you so bad, Y/N.” Jungkook closes his eyes, his hands reaching out for your waist to bring you close to him.

You groan, squirming out of his reach. “We’re doing face masks.” you deadpan, your mind not comprehending how the man could be thinking about sex at a time like this. “Nothing about this is sexy, Kook.”

Jungkook scoffs - he begs to differ. There was never a moment Jungkook didn’t want you - but he was a man and maybe that was just the way his body reacts around you. He’d remain quiet, however, to make you any more irritated with him. Your irritation only fueled his sexual desire.

“‘Kay, done.” you lean back to admire your work on Jungkook’s face. Now the both of you matched - both sporting a cream colored face mask. “Our skins going to be so smooth when we’re done!” you squeal, and for a moment you’re excited - until you see the smile on Jungkook’s lips. “Ugh, didn’t mean to do that. Don’t think I like doing things like this with you.” you quickly scoff.

Jungkook cackles at your fraudulent change of tune. “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N.” Jungkook snatches your waist this time, bringing you closer to him. He then stands. “Give it a few more months, baby, and you’ll finally admit it outside of sex.”

“Fuck off.” you murmur, hands pushing Jungkook back - even if you didn’t put that much force into it because you actually did like his embrace.

Jungkook brings his face closer, the need to kiss you heavy. He doesn’t get the chance to, however, a loud banging noise sounding throughout his home. His eyebrows furrow. “Someone’s at the door.” he says aloud. “Be right back.”

You turn away from the man to clean up the mess you’ve made. As you turned on the water to clean the silicon brush, Jungkook takes it upon himself to slap your ass.

“Jung-” you swung around to snap, but Jungkook’s already out the door and down the hall, a loud trail of laughter echoing behind him.

Jungkook makes his way towards his front door, not caring about his appearance as he swings it open.

“Oop, jump scare.” Jimin walks past him, shoving three large pizzas in his arms. “Why do you never answer your phone?”

Jungkook is dumbfounded as Hoseok and Taehyung steps in, as well, and for a moment he thinks about what he’s going to say.

However, Jungkook remembers that it’s Sunday - and Sunday’s were movie nights. He swallows the lump in his throat.

He didn’t need Jimin knowing that you were here - not because Jimin hated you, it was quite the opposite. Jimin loved you (from afar) and your antics. He liked you and him together, stating that you made a good couple.

Jimin knowing that you were here meant that Jungkook forgot about the weekly movie night - and then he’d have to hear Jimin’s mouth about how “pussy was worth more than the friendship” as he liked to put it.

“I was, uh, showering.” Jungkook responds, closing the door behind Hoseok. “Where’s Joon?” he questions, as if he wasn’t the one who lost track of his days.

“Running late.” Jimin takes off his shoes and proceeds to go to the living room. “I wonder what’s new on the streaming services. Not like I’d know…” he trails off, side eyeing the younger male.

“You’ll have to get over that.” Hoseok snickers, taking his seat beside Jimin. “We all know Jungkook would find a girl that would take all his time.”

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, placing the boxes of pizza on the coffee table.

“Ah, yes.” Taehyung sits on one of the leather chairs, a boxy smirk on his lips. “So…did Y/N teach you any new tricks?”

“Or is barking all you do?” Jimin scoffs, then proceeds to go out in full laughter, followed by Hoseok and Taehyung.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. It was bad enough he had to hear it in the groupchat. This was a moment they’ll never let him live down.

“I just want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok shakes his head. “Y/N has to be doing something lethal to have you bark-”

“It was a joke.” Jungkook hisses. “Pick a movie while I take this off.” he murmurs, making his way down the hall and back towards the bathroom. Jungkook opens the door and eyes you, face mask already off. “So, we have a dilemma.” he mumbles, coming towards the sink.

“I heard Jimin.” your arms are crossed. “Is he talking shit again?”

“It’s Jimin.” Jungkook scoffs. He begins to wipe the face mask off of his skin, scrubbing aggressively. “I forgot tonight was movie night.”

“Movie night?” you furrow your brows. “But I thought you said we were continuing Law & Order?”

Jungkook sighs. He turns off the water and turns towards you. “I did,” he admits. “but we have movie nights every Sunday and…” he trails off.

“And…” you shake your head, not comprehending. Jungkook grabs a small hand towel and wipes his face “...you’re saying fuck Lieutenant Olivia Benson? Because you want to watch a lame ass movie?” you cross your arms, even if you couldn’t be upset about it. You just wanted a reason to give him shit.

Jungkook licks his lips and smirks. “You’re so jealous, baby. I knew you’d-”

“Ew. Go watch your lame movie with your lame friends.” you push him away, fighting the smile stretching on your lips when you feel his hands on your wrist. “I’ll be in the room, I guess.”

Jungkook pokes his head out the bathroom door to assure no one was looking. Then, he drags you towards his room and shuts the door. “I’ll sneak you some pizza.” he murmurs. He rushes towards his closet to change into clothes.

“I…I can’t come out?” you scoff in disbelief.

Jungkook shakes his head. “They’ve been cooking me in the groupchat and when they walked in. You walking out will only be my 13th reason.” Jungkook is dressed in under a minute, a black shirt and iron man pajama shorts. He comes towards you when he sees your wide eyed expression and wraps you in a sudden embrace, peppering your face with kisses. “I’ll let you sit on my face later.” he murmurs.

“You do that everyday.” you deadpan.

“Exactly.” Jungkook smiles. “So you’ll be okay for a few hours. I’ll try to kick them out after one movie, though.”

Again, Jungkook slaps your ass, but this time brings you in for a kiss. He’s out the door before you can say anything further. You eye his bedroom door for a moment and scoff with a shake of your head.

“Hyung, when did you get here?” Jungkook asks when he strolls through the living room to see Namjoon. “Did you find a movie yet?”

“Got here a minute ago.” Namjoon responds.

“Haven’t been on here in so long. Forgot how to work the app.” Jimin retorts.

“Eventually you’re going to have to get over it.” Jungkook makes his way towards the kitchen to grab a plate. He then walks back towards the livingroom to gather a few slices of pizza for you.

“Forget about the ultimate betrayal?” Jimin scoffs. “Never.”

“Where are you going?” Taehyung asks, eyeing Jungkook.

“I’m just saving myself some pizza.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Might be hungry in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond.

Jungkook makes his way down the hall and back towards his room. “Special delivery.” he scurries in to drop the plate on his bedside table. “I can’t wait for you to sit on my face later.”

“Don’t think you getting any pussy after keeping me in this room.” you retort, not removing your eyes from the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “We’ll see about that.” He doesn’t have time for a petty argument, because that would only turn it to him fucking you into the mattress - and now, he didn’t have time for that.

“Since when do you eat in your room?” Hoseok questions as Jungkook returns, a confused look on his face. “Since I got lazy.” Jungkook responds without a second thought, sitting next to Namjoon. “What are we watching?” Jungkook is barely able to focus on the movie. He eats a couple slices of pizza, his eyes watching the movie that his mind refuses to acknowledge. He would rather be with you watching Law & Order - he knows by now you two would be cuddling. You would rub your ass against him slightly, pretending to be occupied with the show and that would be his que to-

“You don’t look interested.”

Jungkook blinks a few times and then turns to Namjoon, the source of the voice.

“Just thinking.” Jungkook shrugs.

“About Y/N?”

Jungkook cracks his neck, only snorting.

“Jimin told me you were whipped. Didn’t tell me you couldn’t go a day without thinking about her.” Namjoon teases, his dimples deepening when he smirks.

“Are you two talking about Y/N?” Jimin crosses his arms. He’s laying against the arm of the couch, his eyes piercing at Jungkook.

“I sense one sided beef.” Taehyung calls.

“Because of her,” Jimin starts, and Namjoon groans, having heard this rant time and time again. “I was removed from all the streaming services. Not just one - all.”

“I gave you several warnings.” Jungkook grumbles.

Hoseok snickers. “Like what?”

“I told him when Y/N usually watches her shows.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“You give her access to streaming services so she can watch True Crime.” Jimin deadpans, an unamused look on his face. “When you end up on one of those documentaries because she slipped something in your drink-”

Jungkook sighs, leaning back into the couch. “Can we watch the movie-”

“- and murdered you, Jungkook. I will be on there telling the audience that there was red flags.”

Jungkook’s phone vibrates in his lap. He unlocks it, your name popping up.

Y/N 🥰: does jimin want to fight me?

Jungkook smirks.

“When are you going to admit you like Y/N?” Jungkook asks as he responds to your text.

“And while we’re on the topic,” Taehyung pauses the movie. “how did you get her mother’s number?”

You were only curious in the conversation outside the bedroom once you began to hear speaking. You never turn down an episode of Law & Order, and thankfully you had. You were told by Jungkook that Jimin liked you - his words now say otherwise.

You were growing bored. The pizza was already gone and Jungkook didn’t bring you anything to drink.

But the most important thing was that you were bored - and feeling petty.

you: I miss you

You didn’t miss him - you were bored and that’s different.

You watch as Jungkook reads the text instantly and begins typing.

kookie 🍪: i miss you too 🥹😍😏

you: can’t tell

you: you’re shit talking me with your lame friends

kookie 🍪: never. I got jimin to admit that he likes you more than he admits 🤙🏻

kookie 🍪: are you hungry still?

You grunt. You couldn’t be petty with Jungkook if he was offering to feed you.

you: no

you: just bored…

You bite your lip as Jungkook types. You suddenly open the camera app and take a picture. It’s a simple picture, you smiling in the camera.

Jungkook swallows, his eyes zoning in on the picture of you. Your robe was opened slightly more and he has a peak at your breast.

“If it wasn’t for me he’d still be in the friend zone probably leasing cars for her attention.” Jimin retorts at Taehyung. Hoseok laughs at the comment.

kookie 🍪: you’re so beautiful ♥️

kookie 🍪: the robe is nice on you

kookie 🍪: i can buy you more if you’d like

You snicker at Jungkook’s response. The man didn’t know what to do now and his first option was to spend if it meant that you’d send him more pictures.

“I feel like I should be compensated for my hard work.” Jimin exclaims. “Who else can say they got Jungkook out of the friendzone?”

“They were fucking. Don’t think that’s just a friend zone.” Namjoon announces. “Raw at that.”

Y/N 😍: i seem to be the topic of conversation tonight

Y/N 😍: i wish you were as interested in me as your friends are 🤭

Jungkook glances up at his bickering friends for a moment before texting back.

kookie 🍪: im beginning to think i spoil you if you cant be without me for a few hours… 😌

You’re taken aback by the tone in the message. As if you needed him - you didn’t. You were just bored and feeling a little confrontational today.

Besides, Jungkook wasn’t going to have the last word.

“I still want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok adds. “Whatever she’s doing that has Jungkook worshiping the ground she walks on needs to be studied.”

“That or you’re just a pervert.” Taehyung shrugs.

Jungkook glances down at his phone and coughs. Eyes turn to him suddenly and Jungkook stands. “I-I’m not feeling…my stomach hurts.” he makes his way down the hall and goes to open his bedroom door.

You giggle when you hear the bedroom door twist.

You’ve locked it before sending Jungkook the picture. You were already naked, mind as well use it to your advantage.

kookie 🍪: oh

kookie: open the door

you: enjoy your movie night

You hear the door knob shuffle once more.

kookie 🍪: open the door

kookie 🍪: stop ignoring me baby

kookie 🍪: i can always break the door down

kookie 🍪 : then they’ll know you’re here

kookie 🍪: and hoseok already wants to be a fly on the wall

kookie 🍪: and i have no intentions of stopping once i have you on my tongue

You flung the door open with wide eyes. “Are you-”

Jungkook pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. “Just sit on my face.” he grumbles, hands pushing you backwards.

It doesn’t take long for your robe to be discarded on the ground. He takes in your naked sight and sighs with a shake of his head. “So needy.” he murmurs, laying down on his bed. “You missed me, huh? And it hasn’t even been a full movie length.”

“Did not.” you reject, pussy already in his face.

Jungkook clenches both of your legs. “Is that why you’re already wet?” his tongue licks your clit and hums. “It’s okay to admit you missed me, baby.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond, he’s already diving head first into your. He suckles and slurps loudly, his hands keeping you in place. This time, he doesn’t care if you preferred him to now watch - he does anyways. His eyes are intense on watching you be pleasured by him - the cute needy moans, the fucked out look on your face. He wanted to experience it all.

“Your friends are gonna know you’re gone.” you whimper as Jungkook laps his tongue slowly between your folds.

Jungkook leans back only slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions.

You shake your head, and that’s all the convincing Jungkook needs. His right palm slapped your thigh. “Then I won’t. Now just ride my face until you cum.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his excessive need to make you cum.

However, you do as you’re told. Your hips buckle against his tongue, your head falling back - mainly to avoid Jungkook’s gaze. It was his favorite part, he once told you, to watch you cum.

Jungkook’s tongue feels amazing - and it’s the same tongue. It shouldn’t feel better than the last time, but somehow it does. Maybe it’s the way his hands rub along your thighs as you ride along his tongue - or maybe it’s the way he grips your breast and pinch your nipples that are an added bonus.

Jungkook’s hands never stayed in one spot. They’re soon cupping your ass to encourage you to grind against him harder - how he never suffocates is beyond you.

“O-Oh, fuck.” Jungkook hears you hiss and he squeezes your ass even harder. His own breathing increases as he watches you - he can do this for as long as you wanted. You were so beautiful when you were aroused and cumming - it’s a sight he has engraved in his mind.

“I know you’re about to cum.” Jungkook says muffledly. His head bops back and forth, in rhythm with your grinding. He also knows how you enjoy the way he touches you, your ass being your favorite part. He probably will never know why girls enjoyed pain mixed with pleasure, but he was nothing but a man made to pleasure you.

So, Jungkook slaps your ass encouragingly, making sure to give it a good grip after each slap.

You needed to know what it was about Jungkook - and his tongue, fingers or cock - that has you cumming so harshly on his tongue like he wants you to; and even then he refuses to stop until you’re twitching.

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to fall back like you want to, his hands grasp your twitching form and assures that you’re placed on the bed.

Licking his lips, Jungkook smirks. “My pretty girl.” he says, kissing your forehead. “I’m going to continue my movie night, okay? Then I’m going to come back here and you’re going to sit on my face again.”

You nod your head lazily, not having it in you to argue.

“I knew you were so down bad for me, baby.” Jungkook teases. He places the blanket over your naked body. “One day, I won’t need to fuck it out of you for you to admit.”

“Fuck you.” you hiss when Jungkook is half-way out the door.

“Trust me. I will.” Jungkook chuckles, closing the door behind him, leaving you in a state of arousal and anticipation.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his good dick, fingers, tongue and heart.

Series Masterlist

@suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk

#bts smut #bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #ungodly hour #explicit-tae #bts college au #jungkook college au #fake tweets #bts fake tweets #simp jk #tsundere reader

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tojipie · 6 months

Note

adah … reader sliding toji her panties during a visit … him jerking off with them in his cell … (i know realistically it wouldn’t work bc regulations blah blah blah guards would see it and all BUT but indulge me for a sec) this man would go FERAL FOR THEM ((satosugu would try to steal them deprived freaks))

prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: jerking off, mentions of violence, panty kink .. ? if that’s not a thing ignore that tag

you don’t know what had gotten into you today, truly.

the idea had popped into your head as you were getting dressed, a little voice in the back of your brain directing your thoughts toward the maxi skirt you’d bought on an outing last weekend.

the fabric was opaque, impossibly silky. ebbing and flowing along the dips of your body all the way down to your ankles. tight enough to show off your figure but not enough to restrict your movements. easy to maneuver in without being too obvious.

that’s precisely why you have no issues wiggling your panties off each hip under one of the prison’s many visitor tables, letting the black lace slip over your knees and around your ankles.

you let one foot slip out of the garment, lifting your leg to brush against toji’s calf slowly.

huh?

he whispers, amused at what he thinks is a little game of footsie. the inmate palms at the meat of your calf lovingly, traveling down down down until calloused fingers close around your ankle.

oh.

he’s quiet when he says it, eyes blown wide with a mix of shock and arousal. you barely hear him over the bustle of the visitor hall, the small smile gracing his face being your only indication of what he’s about to do.

toji delicately lifts the fabric from around your leg, scanning the perimeter to make sure no one’s looking. emerald eyes bore into yours as your boyfriend balls the garment up in his fist, bringing his closed hand up to his mouth.

and then he kisses it. kisses your panties through the gaps in his fingers without ever looking away, sending a lightning bolt of arousal straight to the deepest pit of your stomach.

you swear you see him stuff the fabric down the front of his pants before he heads back.

˚ ✧ ───

your little gift doesn’t last a chance in the shitty hiding place he picked, haphazardly thrown under the swell of his pillow while he eats lunch in the mess hall. all toji knows is that they were in his cell mates’ greedy little paws by the late afternoon, the two insufferable men huddled around the item like schoolgirls reading a magazine.

“how the fuck did you get these past customs?” geto asks in disbelief, turning the fabric over in the dim light. gojo runs a lithe finger over the lace border in silent interest.

“didn’t get it in the mail dumbass,” your boyfriend sneers, snatching the black lace from both men with a huff.

“so y’r broad snuck them to you, huh?” gojo teases, head hanging off the edge of the bunk with boredom.

toji couldn’t stomp the two young men half to death like he usually would, disappointing as that was. he did only just get visitation rights back again after his last infraction.

the last time he’d beat geto’s face in was after the younger man had got his hands on a picture of you, earning toji 2 months in solitary confinement.

he really did think he was starting to go crazy, spending 22 hours a day in that padded room with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. being fed through a tray slot in the wall like a fucking zoo animal.

more time in solitary meant less time with you. less time with the picture of you he tacked to the underside of the top bunk with a wad of gum, palming himself slowly as he takes in the sight of your sweet little smile he knows all too well.

less time with the soft clutch of your panties caressing the underside of his dick, catching milky ropes of cum as he finishes all over his stomach on the slab of metal this place calls a bed.

and a whole lot less time of getting to rut into you under the dim light of a spare storage closet, hours after dark. hand closed right around your lips as he takes you over and over and over.

so if toji had to bite his tongue till he drew blood and settle for jerking his dick raw as a distraction, then so be it. at least your little present would keep him good company till’ your next visit.

taglist🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru @aroxwq @i-literally-cant-with-this @emikokomura @moonriseoverkyoto

#prison bf! toji #prison bf!toji #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji x fem reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk toji #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji imagine #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #zenin toji #jujutsu toji #toji #toji drabbles #toji smut

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cordeliawhohung · 1 month

Text

ghoap x reader pet!au where simon keeps johnny as a pet, but can't keep up with his high sex drive and antics. in order to satiate him, simon decides to go looking for another pet to keep the silly pup entertained. sort of an introductory work bound to become a series of one shots like my mafia!au

cw: simon is a freak, non-con photography, a little dark content, nsfw, slight bdsm dynamics, owner/pet dynamics

Simon wasn’t a photographer, not a good one anyway, but he wasn’t to blame. His large hands were better fit for shredding meat than creating art, but he figured all art was good when the muses were beautiful.

He had been on the hunt for nearly three hours by that point, wandering throughout the city where the population was thickest. Armed with nothing but his phone, Simon captured photos of various specimens that meandered throughout the streets as they went about their lives. There were roughly twenty pictures he had saved in his gallery of unsuspecting women he figured would be Johnny’s type. Pretty blondes in flowery dresses, alluring doe eyes looking out at the streets; he stole photos of any soft and sweet thing that he figured Johnny would have fun sinking his teeth into.

A black mask and dark clothes wasn’t the most unsuspecting thing for him to wear on such an outing, yet it was to his advantage at the same time. Several women had caught the slight glint of the camera lens on his phone as he stole eternal glimpses of them. Many of them had even opened their mouths to protest his intrusion, until they looked at him, anyway. Not many people had the bravery or fortitude needed to stand up to a creature as wild and brutish as him. Their mouths shut with such promptness he nearly chuckled at how bashful they were.

Hunting got more difficult as the sky grew darker. Fresh meat hid behind locked doors that Simon could have easily torn down if he had so desired, but that wasn’t the time. As the lights started to illuminate the street, he dived down into the depths underneath London where tunnels spanned for miles, spider-webbing just below the skin of the city. The stench underground grew more acrid the further he pushed and Simon couldn’t help but huff at it. This was why he enjoyed living out of town, off in some secluded home nestled in the cold embrace of trees and lavish fields.

Made it harder for his pet to wander off, too.

The sharp clicking of heels caught his attention as he waited just beyond the yellow line on the platform. Dark eyes flickered to the newest prey that approached, and Simon found himself drinking in the sight of her. Proper clothes covered her body with a simple blouse and a pencil skirt. Dark tights covered the expanse of her legs with its sheer fabric where it was beautifully topped off by a classic pair of heels. The sway of her hips was dramatized by the steps she traversed, her pace slow and careful lest she roll an ankle walking in those heels.

She was dressed professionally, and if Simon had to guess it was for an interview. By the look on her face, it didn’t go very well. Distracted eyes stared down at the phone in her hand as her lips pressed into a frown. Anxious fingers tapped away as she typed out a message to someone — perhaps a lover? Someone would be crazy not to snatch up a specimen such as that — as she stepped down onto the platform.

Before she could get too close, Simon quickly dug his phone out before stealing a photo of her. He had gotten so used to the motions he didn’t even have to think about it; not that it was difficult anyway. With her attention still focused elsewhere, he found he was able to snap a few more before she finally put her phone into her bag and began to pay mind to where she walked. She continued further into the platform, well past Simon, and vanished into the crowd as if she had never been there at all.

Cute.

It didn’t take long for the tube to take Simon to his stop, and it was even shorter before he seated himself in his car to head back home. The drive itself was the longest part of everything. Annoying traffic, bad drivers; he didn’t feel like he could untense his body until he approached the familiar sight of home. The old and dilapidated building wasn’t much more than an heirloom passed down in the Riley family, but it had quickly become his sanctuary. Seclusion meant he was safe. Seclusion meant he could love in peace.

Warm lights poured through the sheer curtains that covered the windows and were only disturbed by a figure pacing around just beyond them. Simon’s car died off with a sputter as he pocketed his keys before approaching the door. A thick deadbolt kept the house latched tight and secure, though he was confident Johnny knew better than to attempt to dash out by that point. Especially not that day when he had the prospect of such a good treat.

Johnny was there to greet him at the door with a toothy grin, and the damn pup nearly knocked Simon over as he bounded up to him. His hands pawed at Simon’s chest as if he couldn’t get enough of him, and he didn’t calm down until the man grabbed hold of the collar around his throat. Blue eyes widened as he looked up at his owner, lips twitching with all the words he wanted to exclaim.

“Down,” Simon warned.

“Did ya get the pictures? Like you said you would?” Johnny questioned, his body still unable to retain his buzzing excitement.

Instead of answering him verbally, Simon gave a sharp tug on his collar before directing him further into the house. Ancient wood floorboards creaked underneath their weight as they entered the living room. It was devoid of all decor, unless cracks in the paint could be considered art. A rusted lamp was the sole source of light in the room, and the only thing even worth looking at was the glorious stone fireplace that sat against the far wall, but it was much too warm out to light.

Simon pulled Johnny down onto the old sofa next to him, and the man instantly burrowed into his side, eagerly waiting to see the pretty pups. The phone screen illuminated both of their faces in sync as it blossomed to life, and Johnny almost salivated at just the prospect of what he would see. It didn’t take Simon long to pull up his gallery, and he scrolled to the first photos he had taken that day before angling it so that his excited pup could see it too. Twitching fingers reached out to swipe along the screen, and Simon watched as Johnny’s eyes dilated at every piece of meat he looked at. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted on the couch, and all it took was a simple glance to see how worked up the poor pup was. A hardened bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a groan reverberated in his throat as he continued to swipe through the countless choices put in front of him.

“Si, they’re all so beautiful. Can’t I have them all?” Johnny whined.

“Only one,” Simon countered.

“I’ll be good,” Johnny said with a pout.

“Just one, Johnny,” Simon repeated, voice more firm.

Sighing, he continued to swipe through Simon’s phone as his eyes glossed over beautiful legs and delicious hips. It had been so long since he had last seen a woman it was nearly impossible to hold himself back. His body craved them in a way he couldn’t put into words, and he felt like the only thing that would offer him solace would be to burst out of his skin.

His restless buzzing suddenly ceased when he caught sight of the last group of photos in the gallery. A beautiful woman had him utterly transfixed as she appeared to have descended down a long set of concrete steps. There was something about the troubled look on her face that had his mouth watering. Like he knew he would be able to fix it. Like he could bully the worry out of her with his cock alone.

“This one,” Johnny said, his decision definite as he held the phone up for Simon to see. “I want this one.”

#ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #dark content #f!reader

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covetyou · 7 months

Text

the best of the world in the palm of our hands

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con (reader is paying a debt), pussy spanking, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (f receiving), cumplay, anal play (blink and you'll miss it), derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, joel miller is a massive slut word count: 4.9k chapter summary: You find a way to pay your fathers debts

A/N: pussy spanking! lets go! you know the old saying, open mind open legs.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

song: damage gets done by Hozier

Your dad had been rationing his pain meds for months, barely taking one every two days now that the world had gone to shit and they were so much harder to come by - and so much more expensive as a result. Lean times were made leaner still by missed shifts and slow work, which meant for even fewer pills to ration out.

Eventually, you would listen, night after night, as he groaned and writhed in pain, meds long gone. Nights like that meant another missed shift, fewer ration cards, and the ever looming threat of debtors coming to collect on what was theirs.

That was the situation that had brought you here, to his door. Desperation, and a debt needing to be paid.

Your knock on the door sounds sharp in the silence of the hallway. You're in a "nicer" part of the QZ - the apartment block cleaner and less crammed full of bodies than others. Here there are fewer people to care, fewer people to see. Fewer people to hear you scream.

The door in front of you suddenly flies open and you wretch you head around, straightening your back. You'd told yourself you'd play it cool, but already you were failing.

Joel Miller, self appointed pharmacist, medication supplier, drug dealer, stands before you. He's tall and broad, taking up almost the entire doorway as he rests one hand on top of the frame. He ticks one hip to the side and tucks his fingers through his belt loops.

You'd seen him from a distance, people pointing with whispers of "that's him", but never up close. Flecks of gray dance around the scruff on his jaw, his dark brown eyes wrinkling as he assesses you. The firm expanse of him so much more intimidating from this distance, you square yourself before you speak.

"I -" you begin, but he immediately cuts you off.

"I don't do business in the hallway," he drawls. "This is business, right?" he quirks a dark eyebrow at you.

You nod, all words snatched from your brain. You'd never heard him before - his southern drawl sounding cocky as he sizes you up, standing meek and mild in the corridor.

"S'always business. Come in then, sweetheart," he says, barely moving his body from blocking the doorway for you to squeeze past him. You push yourself against the door frame as much as possible so you don't drag your body along his.

The living room of his apartment is bigger than the entire place you share with your father. As far as you can tell, Joel lives here alone.

The door slams shut behind you, and heavy footsteps walk past you. Joel picks up a bottle and a single glass, pouring himself two fingers of whisky before setting the bottle back down and taking a sip. You knew you would be vulnerable, coming here alone, but you hadn't taken into account feeling trapped.

"So, what y'here for?"

"M-my dad, he's -"

"I know who your dad is, sweetheart. Seen you together. He owes me. Ain't heard from him in a few weeks. I asked what you're here for, not about your dad."

"Yeah," you nod, trying to feign confidence, "Yeah well, that's why I'm here. He needs more medicine."

"What I gave him weren't medicine, it ain't fixin' shit. I gave him pain relief. That's it."

"Well, he needs more. He's out, and he's hurting, and he can't work - " you ramble, but he cuts you off again.

"Now, sweetheart," he raises a finger to stop you. "I don't see why I should be giving you, or him, anythin'. I owe you nothin', and from where I'm standing, you're the one who owes me. Two weeks worth, right?"

Your eyes go wide. You were hoping he'd make it easier than this - go easy on you because you were a girl and you were here alone. You were hoping to play on his heartstrings, but you were starting to realise that maybe he didn't have one.

His glass thunks down on the table.

He circles you like a predator circles its prey, looking you up and down, assessing for weakness. You stare straight ahead, unwavering as possible.

He stops in front of you, tall and foreboding, before tilting your chin up with a single finger.

"You got the cards for that?"

You shake your head no.

He clicks his tongue, smiles, and says, "That's a damn shame". You have a feeling he doesn't think that at all.

"Dad's been hurting too much, he can't work, we haven't been able to get the cards, I've been trying I - "

"Looks like you'll have to do then," he shrugs, crossing his arms across his broad chest as he leans back against his dining table. "Show me what you can pay me with."

You'd never done this before - well, that was a bit of a lie. You'd done something like this, once, before, with someone else, someone different, someone who probably couldn't hurt you in the ways the massive figure of Joel Miller could hurt you.

You take two small steps toward him, and move to lower to your knees - you'd heard men like him accepted this mode of "payment" all the time - but he grabs your arm in one giant hand before you can make your descent.

You balk at him, "Wha - "

"I don't want a half-hearted blow job, sweetheart," he licks his lips and his thick fingers tug at the hem of your too big t-shirt. "Why don't you take this off. Show me what you can pay me with."

The implication was clear - he didn't want anything you could give him, but you had plenty he could take. Your breath hitches, but you don't let yourself hesitate for long.

Swallowing thickly, you yank your t-shirt over your head and dump it on the floor beside you in one swift action. You're painfully aware that your bra is the least flattering thing you could possibly be wearing - it's soft and old and entirely shapeless, but you weren't expecting to be stripping off for him. You shouldn't even care what he thinks of you but it'd been so long since anyone had seen your bare skin that even this twisted exchange felt like you should've made more of an effort.

You stare directly ahead, not daring to meet his eyes as heat flares in your cheeks. He stalks back to the table and picks up his whisky. You watch him raise it to his lips before he notices you looking. You haven't moved.

He's on you in an instant, grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks with force as he directs your eyes to his. The heat still burns through your face, but you feel it start to snake traitorously down your spine.

"I said, show me or do you want me to fuckin' rip the rest off you."

Nodding, you scramble to remove the rest of your clothing. It's not sexy, why fucking would it be, and you fumble with the buttons on your pants longer than you'd like, but eventually you're stood entirely nude for him in his apartment.

A puff of air huffs out if his nose and his face twitches as he appraises you like some kind of show cattle. You don't know if he likes what he sees, but that traitorous drip of warmth down your spine hopes that he does. You can trick yourself into thinking it's because he might go easier on you if he likes you, but the longer you stand there under his gaze the more you don't want him to go easy on you.

"You are a pretty thing," he says, rubbing the scruff of his beard. "I think you got just the thing I need to let your dad off the hook, don't you? Might even throw something else in to sweeten the deal if you're extra good." He strokes your hair, and you try to hold back a shudder of arousal. Maybe he'll think it's fear, and maybe it is. Maybe it's both.

"How's that sound?" he prompts as he laces his fingers through your hair and tugs.

You look at his face, his eyes are dark, darker than before, the way he's looking at you makes that traitorous drip into a flood. "Okay."

He wordlessly grunts as he tugs your hair some more and pushes you toward a door on the otherside of the room, making you walk ahead of him.

Even with his hand in your hair, guiding you, your feet move of their own accord. You want to object, refuse, but you can't. You want this. You want a man like Joel - big, protective, in control - to pay you any attention. Whatever the cost.

One final nudge of your head and you stumble into the room as he releases you.

His bedroom is sparse, as expected. Interior decor went to shit with the end of the world, and Joel didn't seem like the kind of man who would've cared about that before anyway.

You stand at the foot of his bed looking down at your toes as they bunch and un-bunch in the carpet. You hear him come in and close the door. If you weren't trapped before you definitely are now. You don't look up at him, you can't, so your eyes remain fixed at your feet when his step into view.

"You ready to get on the bed for me, sweetheart?" His hand strokes gently across the swell of your breast as he talks to you. It's the first time he's really touched you and the flood down your spine has now gathered into a slick pool between your legs.

You do as you're asked sitting on the edge of his bed, feeling even smaller now as he towers over you. You could have been 8 feet tall and still felt small and vulnerable in this moment, Joel Miller cascading above you fully clothed.

A large hand rests on your shoulder, a gentle pressure pushing you to fall back to the mattress below.

"You lay back now. Relax."

You try not to scoff but you can't help it.

"Ain't goin' to hurt you. What good would that do me. I like my customers alive."

You take a deep breath and try to steady yourself with your back flush to the mattress, looking at him as he still hulks above you. You can do this. He'll just... take what he wants. And you'll let him. Then you'll be on your way.

He's still standing above you as he directs you. "Good girl. Now open your legs for me. Lemme see."

You take another deep breathe, hold, and exhale, opening your legs for him just a fraction.

"I'm a patient man, sweetheart, but when I tell you to do something, you fuckin' do it," he growls as he kicks your legs open further. You spread them even wider, wanting to keep on his good side. You're completely exposed and bare for him now. Everything is on display and he still towers over you, looking down at your naked form on his bed.

"Fuckin' beautiful," you think you hear him mutter as he moves to a crouch between your spread thighs. You hold your breath, tensing and try not to clamp your legs shut at his inspection.

"I'm just lookin', sweetheart," Fingers rub calming circles over the softness of your thighs and your legs twitch.

"Keep your fuckin' legs spread," he says with a sharp slap to your thigh. Gasping at the shock, you push your legs to spread as wide as they can. You feel obscene, so open for him and his hand strokes the spot he'd just struck, soothing it.

You were beginning to see how this would go - do exactly as he said and he'd be gentle. Disobey, or be slow on the uptake (patient man my ass) and you'd soon feel the sting of punishment. The thought of that makes you clench around nothing, and you curse under your breath as it's surely now drawn attention to just how wet you are.

You stare up at his yellowed ceiling and hear a chuckle from between your legs - he definitely fucking knows. You don't dare to look down, you just want him to get on with it, until suddenly fingers come dangerously close to your sex and pull you apart, spreading your bare cunt even more for him.

"Well, you're a pretty little thing," he says to your pussy.

The fingers, his thumbs you realise, massage up and down the sides of you, avoiding any direct touch to your folds, but massaging the flesh in such a delicious way that you can't help but feel it right where you need it most.

Joel hums as he moves to his knees, getting closer to your spread cunt, still rubbing his thumbs up and down the sides of you, gradually moving closer and closer to the center of your sex until he's dragging the tips of both thumbs through your wetness and up to the sides of your clit.

You take another deep breath and try to muffle your whimpers with pursed lips, trying to hold back a moan.

"She's likin' that," you hear the amusement in his voice, "I wonder if she'll like this." He moves one of his slicked thumbs directly above your clit and begins to gently stroke. Your hips jerk, unsure if it's toward or away from the pressure of his thumb.

"Oh, she does," and he applies more pressure, circling torturously around your nub as his other hand continues to explore your folds in gentle strokes, parting your opening with two fingers occasionally to see the wetness gathering there, to see how ready for him you are.

"You ever touch yourself like this?" he's talking to you again now, not your cunt.

"N-no," you stutter, as his thumb keeps its languid pace on your clit.

"You don't touch yourself? Y'look well old enough to have done this before."

"No, I-I do, just... not. Not like this."

Joel hesitates for just a moment, fingers stilling, before continuing on. "You like it though." It's not a question. "Tell me how you touch yourself." That wasn't either.

"I don't - I. Fuck," you hiss. You try to relax your grip on the sheets, but his rough thumb on your clit is distractingly good. "I - rub," you pant out.

"With fingers?"

"No," you squeeze your eyes shut. You can't say you expected much from this visit, but telling a stranger how you get yourself off in the dark of the night definitely was not on your list.

"Againstapillow," you mumble, a soft moan being pulled from shortly after as he increases the frequency of his circles on your clit.

"So you're a sweet girl whose sweet pussy only knows soft things?" he hums in thought. "Anything ever been in here?" his index finger circles around your opening, slick now dribbling out of you and being spread around by his thick finger. You must glisten.

You gulp down a sigh. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're getting at."

"That's good," he chuckles. "Can't imagine you'd want your first to be like this. Of course a pretty little slut like you has had somethin' in here before." His finger circles more around your hole, barley dipping inside as his well practiced thumb swipes firmly over your swollen clit.

Two thick fingers suddenly plunge into your dripping cunt with ease, stretching you. You pull back with the shock, trying to shuffle up the bed and away at the sudden intrusion, pulling his fingers from you. His hands grip your thighs, anchoring you down and pulling you back toward him.

"Did I say you could fuckin' move?" You shake your head. You didn't even mean to move. It felt good, it shouldn't feel fucking good, you were just surprised.

slap

You hear it before you feel it - a wide hand colliding bluntly with your exposed cunt, sending a sharp stinging, buzzing sensation straight back up your spine. You think your brain shuts off entirely for a second before you gasp for air.

"I know you wanna be good for me. You wanna do right by your sick old dad, right? Help him out of a tough spot?"

His entire palm engulfs your mound with ease, covering you completely as he massages his fingers side to side, easing the sting and jerking your clit in a way that has you rolling your hips and biting back a moan.

"Try getting away again and I'll give your worse than that," you push your pelvis toward him at his words. You really try not to be obvious in your disappointment, you want to be good, but you want it. You want worse. And you know he knows. "But be a good girl and I'll give you exactly what you want. That's why you're here, ain't it?"

Before you can answer he delivers several quick light smacks to your bare pussy. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough send the vibrations through you and straight to your struck clit. He removes his hand to look at your quickly reddening pussy before returning to smack you some more. You gasp, trying desperately to keep still and not moan at the building sensation he's pulling from you - you shouldn't be enjoying any of it at all, let alone this, but fuck you are. There's nothing violent about the way his hand is striking your naked cunt, the light slaps against you turning you on, zinging through you like a tuning fork being tapped on a hard edge.

You hear another laugh from between your legs.

"You've only been givin' it to her soft, sweetheart, when she's just crying out to have it rough."

He spanks your pussy again, this time you can't help the moan that escapes you, your back arching into his quick slap slap slap against your cunt. The speed of his palm slows, but the force increases, drawing obscene noises from you with each blow.

"Uh," the breath huffs out of you with each firm smack to your swollen cunt.

His hand pulls off of you and he spreads you wide again before a warm wet sensation draws up from your fluttering hole to your tender clit in a broad stroke. He's soothing your pussy with soft licks when he latches onto your clit and suckles gently before pulling back to look up at you.

"I like 'em pink like this," he mumbles around your clit, "You're bein' so good takin' it for me."

He's holding your thighs obscenely wide as his tongue lathes your clit, wrenching you open as you wiggle beneath him. You are so close, on the absolute precipice and moments from tipping over the edge, when he pulls from you completely, spreading your cunt open with an his thumbs for inspection once more. The man fucking loves looking at you.

"Look at her twitchin'. I think she likes being spread wide for me, look how wet she is." He dives in for another broad lick, slurping as he goes.

"It's just dripping outa you," he breathes. You feel the warm trickle of wetness drip its well worn path from your pussy and down between the cleft of your cheeks. His finger trails it, and you take in a sharp pull of air when the pad of his finger strokes your tight asshole, spreading your slick across it and causing your legs to twitch closed a fraction once again.

slap. You feel the sting and its aftershocks buzz through you before you hear it. "Keep 'em," slap, "fuckin'," slap, "open!" He soothes your pussy with his full hand again and you moan into him, fisting the sheets at your sides.

"Won't go there today. But don't think I'll be feelin' so generous next time." Next time. He rubs and squeezes your pussy, and you rock your hips into his palm, desperate for more anything.

"You likin' this?" he murmurs, his words almost sounds tender -

- Until another slap rings against your bare sodden skin.

"Answer me."

"Y-Yes!" you gasp out with the next spank to your oversensitive cunt. "Yes, please - I - fuck - please I need to -" slap slap slap slap

Your mind goes blank as a series of slaps are delivered straight to your pussy. A groan is pulled deep from your chest and you spread your legs more for him, pushing into his palm as it rains its gentle smacks down onto you.

"You're goin' to come, ain't you?" he growls out, his smacks getting quicker.

You nod frantically, so fucking close, you shouldn't be so close from this but you are. You're just about to beg for something more, anything more, when the smacks against your pussy get even quicker, and quicker, until he's rubbing frantically at your clit, so swollen from his attention that you practically scream at the sensitivity.

Your orgasm tears through you, drawing a deep guttural sound right from your belly. Your back arches, your dripping hole so neglected as it grips around nothing.

"Fuck," he grinds out from below you, stuffing two fingers quickly into your pussy to feel you grip around them as you rock through your orgasm. You can't see him do it, white blaring across your vision, but you hear the hiss of his breath as he pulls his cock out from his pants.

You whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, stroking himself with the slickness of you. He stands and presses himself between your legs, hot and heavy.

"You want it here?" he says, grinding the heft of his cock against your spent cunt. "'Cause you're making a mess, drippin' all over my sheets without me to plug you up." You're in a daze as you nod, still floating from the intensity of your orgasm as you stare dumbstruck at his rock hard length for the first time. It's so big.

It's too big.

"W-wait, it's too bi- "

"Fuckin' look. Watch as I fuck this into you sweetheart," he growls as he feeds the tip of his cock into you anyway, the solid width of him stretching more than you have ever been before, but your wetness letting him slide right in. He fucks the tip in and out, and you watch him do it.

In previous years you'd had nothing more than clumsy fumbles with men, some drunken, but most just uncaring one night stands with promises of more. There was never more. One way or another you were being used, but this time, and for the first time, you could call it what it was. There was no illusion of care here as Joel took what he wanted and made you watch.

And you liked that. You liked being used by him. You liked letting him do anything he wanted to you.

"I want you to watch her swallow me darlin'. Keep your eyes right there," he pushes his hips forward, the pressure of him filling you immense, and he groans as your cunt gives way to him and swallows him whole. "There she goes. Such a good little pussy for me."

"Keep lookin'," he groans again as he retreats from you only to fuck his full length back inside of you in one swift movement, "You look or I send you out of here jus' like this. See how the locals treat a naked slut in broad daylight."

Your cunt pulses with the threat, and Joel notices. He cocks his brows at you, still relentlessly fucking into you. "Oh, she likes that. You like bein' a slut, huh?"

Fuck yes, you want to scream, but instead you nod meekly, still watching him fuck you, obsessed with the sight of his cock disappearing into you over and over again.

"Good fuckin' girl."

Never once does he lean down to steal a kiss, or swipe his tongue across your bare nipple. You're naked for him but he does nothing with it except pound into your flesh, using your cunt to get himself off. His eyes flit between where he's disappearing into you and your eyes, watching with a sneer as they roll back into your head with each knock to your cervix.

"Fuu-uuck." He's hammering into you now, hips smoothly pounding your pelvis, when he grabs one of your arms and flips you onto your side, pushing your knee up so high it's practically by your ear. He slams back into the hilt again, rocking you back as you moan out wantonly around his cock.

From this angle his cock drags across you in ways you've never felt. You'd seen trees being felled as a kid, a wedge being hammered into a cut far too small to fit. You felt like you were being split, just like those trees.

"Ah - uh, I, Joel, please, I -" tears are in your eyes from how good it feels, the dull throb of the impact into your cervix melting your insides.

Joel brings one of his legs up beside you on the bed, the other planted firmly on the floor, giving himself leverage to fuck so deep and hard into you that the air is knocked out of you for a moment. When you can finally take another breath, you're screaming for him, your pussy creaming around him from the endless pounding.

The sloppy wet sounds of your cunt accepting his battering over and over are eventually taken overby moans being ripped from your throat. His belt rattles about his waist with each smack of his hips into yours, you can feel the metal of his buckle, bitingly cold against your skin.

"That's it - fuck - you just fuckin' take - it. You take this cock." You can feel his balls draw up and his cock twitch inside you as he gets close to bursting. He fucks you relentlessly anyway, desperately holding back as long as he can, until he can hold no more.

He drags his cock sharply from your used cunt, throwing you back onto your back on his mattress. His large hand grips his cock and he jerks it over you.

"Oh fuck yeah, fuck yeah," he's practically chanting as he jerks himself, letting out a deep stuttery groan when he finally comes, spurting hot cum all over your soft thighs, belly, chest.

He doesn't aim, he doesn't care where he gets it, the action more akin to a dog pissing on a tree to mark its territory than anything else.

The only noise in the room when Joel's shoulders finally relax are your twin heavy breaths, punctuated by light whines that you just can't help. You're so overstimulated that when his hand comes down to your thigh, you don't realize that he's smearing his cum into you until he's rubbing it into your belly, spreading it across the peaks of your tits, up your neck and across your cheek.

He gives you a light tap on the face. "Look at me," he says, swiping a come coated finger across your lips. You're entirely fucked out, all you can do is look dumbly at him, totally cockdrunk.

"What do you say?"

"I... wha-..." you know what he means when he raises his eyebrows threateningly once again. "Th-thank you."

"That's right."

Suddenly he's yanking you up into a seated position and the blood rushes to your head. Another tug, the world spins, and you're on your feet, but you can barely trust your legs. He drags you from the room and before you know it your own clothes are in your arms, the remains of his come dribbling down your body.

"Get dressed," he stands with his arms crossed, looking at you, expectant.

You stare for a moment, totally lost in his dark eyes, before moving to get your clothes back on. You are still covered in his come, your pussy still buzzing from his spanking. At some point, he tucked his cock back into his pants. You didn't even notice, and you try to push down the disappointment of not getting to see it one last time.

Pulling your clothes back on with skin sticky from sweat and come isn't easy, but you eventually manage. When you stuff your feet into your shoes, he grabs you by the arm and drags you toward the door, unlatching it and pushing you toward the exit.

"I'll consider your debt paid," he murmurs into your hair from behind, pushing you out of his apartment a second later.

"Oh and, catch," he throws something to you but you miss, barely even turning in time at his words. It rattles as it hits the ground. Pills.

"Told you I'd give you something if you were good." Confirmation that you were good for him is all you need to feel another gush of wetness between your thighs. You feel like you could come again from his words and the rough feeling of your panties against your abused cunt.

"What do you say?" he asks again.

"Thank you."

He smirks before closing the door in your face.

You lick your lips as you walk away down the empty corridor tasting Joel Miller for the first time, pills in hand and debt paid.

He never even kissed you.

next part

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ozarkthedog · 1 month

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑

summary: joel saves you from a crooked qz guard and you want to thank him properly aka joel fucks you in an alley.

warnings: 18+ mdni. older!joel miller x afab!reader. no physical descriptors of reader; but they can raise 1 leg up. public sex; in an alley. handcuffs; reader is bound during sex but is extremely willing. size kink; joel is fucking massive from head to toe. oral sex. quick, feral sex. slight cum play. brief fight scene and mention of blood (qz guard). happy go lucky ending. no beta. w.c: 2.1k

author's note: this man won't leave me alone 🥴

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Shut the fuck up." the piggish guard sneers, roughly shoving you into a desolate, damp alley. Dusk slowly paints the afternoon sky, casting an eerie purple and red hue over the Boston QZ and making the brick dead-end even more sinister.

You knew it was a dumb idea to walk so close to a restricted area. The zones were taped off for a reason, but that didn't deter you from occasionally walking by to catch a glimpse of the outside world you missed, well, the way it was before.

You scramble for a makeshift weapon but find only piles of trash and an overflowing dumpster. The guard grabs your shoulders and spins you around, causing your feet to slip on the wet concrete as the street lamps flicker on for the night.

Wrestling shadows dance on the road as the guard snatches your flailing arms as you struggle against him and locks your wrists in unforgiving handcuffs. Your heart sinks when the shackles lock with a cold, deafening click.

"Maybe you'll learn to avoid restricted areas next time." He shoves you against the brick wall, your shoulders taking the brunt of the hit, snagging your shirt on the rough stone. Before you can think, he invades your space. Your skirt barely protects you from his assault as he grinds into you.

Every nerve in your body turns frigid with icy fear just as a daunting voice fills the alley, halting the guard's advances.

"Get off 'er," the stranger warns, slowly stepping from the mouth of the alley. "Righ' now."

Your teary eyes meet the one man everyone in the QZ knew not to mess with: Joel Miller.

You'd briefly interacted with him only once in the last few years, trading a set of ration cards for a series of mystery books. He was intimidating and abrasive, but his demeanor softened around the edges when you let out a little squeal of excitement as he handed you the books.

From then on, he sent you the slightest smile whenever you crossed him on the street.

"Or what, old man?" The guard bites. He unholsters his handgun and threateningly aims it at Joel.

Your eyes flick back and forth between the two men, frightened, until Joel pounces from his position at the mouth of the alley.

He grabs the guard's gun shockingly fast and yanks it forward before thrusting the butt of the weapon back into the man's jaw. A sickly crack sounds, and blood splashes on the wet pavement.

You want to look away but feel it's a disservice to Joel, your protector, your savior. Joel grabs a fistful of the man's hair and flits his venomous eyes to yours for the briefest second. Your world tilts on a dangerous axis. You've never been the target of such a cold, vile stare, and you unconsciously choke on your heart, praying you never have to again.

Joel cracks a blow to the side of the guard's head, making him stumble on his feet when he lets him go. The guard clutches his face in agony as Joel aims the guard's own gun at him. "Get the fuck outta 'ere." Joel snarls.

The guard's upper lip curls, revealing crimson-stained teeth. "Best watch yourself, Miller." He spits at Joel's feet before slowly backing away and exiting the alley.

The moment the guard is out of sight, air rushes into your lungs. You hadn't realized you stopped breathing.

"You alrigh'?" Joel asks, sending you a worried gaze as he flicks the safety on before tucking the weapon behind his back and into his waistband. His blue jean colored button up barely contains his expansive chest as he moves.

"Uh, yeah," you answer with a long sigh, shaking off another traumatic episode that has now been added to a long list you've cultivated since the outbreak began.

Your shackled hands rest against your belly as he steps closer, his booted feet scuffing the wet pavement. He reaches for the chain between the handcuffs and jiggles your locked wrists. "Didn' know you were cuffed. I don' got any keys on me."

Sincere eyes wash over you, but they're infused with an intoxic, energetic ferocity from having just saved your life.

"It's okay," you reply, your tongue peaking out the corner of your mouth. "I'm more worried I don't have a proper way to thank you for saving me."

He flits his wolfish eyes to yours, fingering the chain again before pensively looking down the alley. "There might be a way," he says brazenly, a playful brow arching toward his hairline. "If you're willin'."

A small laugh of nervous disbelief puffs from your lips before snapping shut with a wanton mewl.

His throat rumbles with a ravenous hum. It's lascivious and all consuming as it takes root at the base of your cunt, forcing you to clench around nothing.

"I'll take that as a yes." He steps forward, closing the gap between your bodies and trapping your cuffed hands against his sturdy abdomen. A strong paw curls around your jaw, tilting your head so he can bring his lips a hairsbreadth from yours.

"S'no good gettin' involved wit' me." He husks, his warm breath blanketing your lips. "But if you wanna thank me, I won' say no."

Just as quickly as he took the guard out, he smothers your lips in a fiery kiss. He nips at your lower lip, tugging slightly, earning a whimper from you as he grinds his jean covered cock against your belly.

You push away, as much as you can, with him trapping you against the brick wall, breaking the kiss with a smirk before sinking to your knees.

"Your full'a surprises, girl." He groans as you rub your face over his clothed bulge. Joel unzips his jeans and fists out a girthy, uncut cock you've never could've imagined. Your cunt throbs at the sight of his veiny length, thick and pulsing, searching for a warm, wet hole.

"Gon' swallow my cock, girl?" He taps the weeping, golden pink head against your parted lips. Your tongue teases out, licking the salty spend, making him snarl, "S'enough, lemme feel that pretty mouth."

He breaches and stretches your shiny, wet lips, gliding over your tongue until he bottoms out, forcing you to gag. "Sorry, sweethear'," he coos, thumbing a stray fallen tear as your fingers dig into his thighs. You flit your bright, bliss filled eyes up at him and vibrate his cock with an eager moan before trying to swallow him again.

He withdraws his cock, much to your dismay, and gathers your caged hands in his much larger ones. He's careful not to jostle the metal that locks your wrists as he raises them over your head. "Gotta wicked lil' mouth on ya. Shit-" he grits before roughly shoving back into your warm gullet and cutting off a surprised squeak from your throat.

Joel's head tips back with pleasure as he moans into the twilight sky while freely and recklessly using your body. Drool spills from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. You're a soaked, wet mess from your quivering cunt to your watery eyes as they blur the ominous view of him looming over you with a feral grin.

"Already lookin' wreaked. What's gon' happen when I get my cock in ya?"

You sputter, choking on your spit and heaving at the thought of his massive cock splitting you in two.

"Oh, ya like that?" he groans with amusement at your ravished expression, roughly framing your face with a large paw as he talks down to you. "I'm gonna enjoy splittin' ya in half."

He drags you to your feet so fast your head spins. He works quickly, lifting one of your legs off the ground and securing it in the crook of his elbow. Your skirt bunches at your hips, allowing him to hook two thick fingers under the elastic of your panties and shove the soaked gusset to the side before grinding his throbbing crown along your obscenely sopping wet folds.

"Keep quiet now." He grits, flicking his eyes to the alley's opening as you let slip a frantic mewl. "Don' need any onlookers. As temptin' as it'd be to claim this sweet pussy in fron'a crowd."

A shocked gasp tears from your lips at his perverted words just as he lines his thickness up and spears into your heat. A low, slithering groan weaves from his parted lips at your tightness as he carves a new path in your cunt. Your head lolls from the immense pressure, but he catches it with a secure grip around the back of your neck.

"No, keep those eyes on me," he husks, holding your glassy eyes with an insatiable stare. "Wanna watch this pretty face crumble as I fuck ya."

Joel cants his hips and dives into your cunt, biting back a savory moan as he bottoms out in one agonizing thrust. Another unholy quiver rakes your body as spine-tingling bliss races from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

"Such a sensitive, sweet lil' pussy. Bet you'll be feelin' me for days."

He's rough and powerful, overwhelming your mind and body with his enormous size. His hold on you is so strong you know you couldn't escape unless he wanted you to. The metal cuffs jostle, clinking together as you tightly clutch his jean button-up and do your best to keep your moans at bay.

Auburn wiry hairs grind your overstimulated clit on each devastating shove. He punches the air from your lungs as he snaps his hips, fucking himself deeper than you thought possible. His sac wetly smacks your ass, making the knot in your belly cinch tighter.

"Can feel ya drippin' down my balls, girl," he grunts, wetting his bottom lip like he's unconsciously tasting your slick.

The thought of him between your spread thighs, gray beard shiny with your creamy arousal, eating you out like his life depended on it, makes your insides cramp.

"Shit-" he bites, hips stuttering as your soaked walls clamp down on his length. You hit your peak so suddenly that you wail shamelessly into the dim alley like a wild wolf running into the night with its pack.

"Thought I tol' ya to be quiet," he mutely threatens, sliding his hand from the back of your neck to smother the lower half of your face. His hand is so large your nose barely peaks over the edge of his palm. "Guess I gotta make sure ya don' get us caught."

Your wild eyes flutter as he sets a tremendous pace and fucks into you with abandon. Your body jostles in his grip, and ragged moans vibrate his palm as your body shifts against the wall with every brutal shove, making you take every inch of his massive cock.

His brows pinch, forming a deep crevice as his mouth drops open with a gruff, torrid moan as you squirm in his hold. In a flash, he unsheaths himself and cautiously shoves you to your knees. He gathers your locked limbs in one giant fist again and pins them against the brink wall while his free hand circles his dripping, creamy length.

"Open tha' pretty mouth n' lookit' me," he grunts, hand moving faster and with less precision as you comply, sticking your tongue out with a wide smile.

He huffs a quiet laugh at your smirk. "Gon' be the death'a me." He flicks his wrist, swirling his tight fingers around his slippery crown before hissing and nudging your swollen lips.

The tendons in your jaw ache and your knees are sore and wet from the rough ground, but you wag your tongue, yearning to accept his cum.

He grunts loudly, much louder than you'd been the entire time, and the sound makes your insides ignite. He fills your mouth with his seed, shooting warm ropes over your tongue and milking every last drop from his balls.

"Lemme see." he purrs, keeping your hands trapped over your head until you show him his immoral offering.

Your lips part demurely, showcasing his pearly spend swirling on your tongue. His features twitch and a shade of darkness overtakes him. His lips pull into a deadly smirk like a Crocodile seconds before it strikes.

"S'good girl." He praises, thumbing the corner of your lips and pushing some spilled seed back into your mouth. You happily swallow his spend after he gives you a slight nod.

He eases your cuffed arms down to your front so gently and carefully that, for a moment, you forget he just fucked you against the side of a building.

There's an awkward silence as you both fix your clothes. Joel tucks his damp cock back in his jeans while you nervously smooth down your skirt, wondering what the fuck just happened.

He tilts his head toward the empty street, now lit in a dewy yellow haze. "Come on, I think I got a pair'a keys back at my place."

A curious brow perks at his words as you step away from the wall like a newborn doe wobbling on its legs. A steady, tender hand curls around your lower back, keeping you safe by his side.

He matches your features with a sly grin. "Unless ya rather stay locked up?”

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

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chrollohearttags · 7 months

Text

kinktober day five

character: multiple (written with some of my fav, big dick slanging demons in mind: tengen, taiju, takita, zoro, draken, gojo, ony, etc.)

kink: size kink

show: multiple (JJK, Demon Slayer, OP, AOT, TR, etc.)

word count: less than 1K idk

content + themes: squirting, heavy drinking, dirty talk, subby reader (described as plus sized), daddy’s used, slaps the reader like once, choking, halloween themed (they’re in costumes), missionary

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･｡ﾟ☆:

“..nngh! Daddy..okayyy, fuck! It hurts..”

“Ah, ah…I don’t wanna here that now. Take it..take this dick like you said you would earlier.”

if there was ever a time in your life that the sentiment of “eating your words” had stood true, then it was this moment right here..somehow, your seemingly normal night of partying and dancing with friends at a fun Halloween party had quickly turned into you being drilled into your plush mattress and your legs pinned back behind your ears! Truthfully, it wasn’t the first time you’d landed yourself in this type of predicament and most certainly wouldn’t be the last but there was a certain intensity about your man that you couldn’t quite pinpoint…perhaps it was your constant misconduct. Being a brat and defying him when he told you you’d had one too many. Insisting you were fine and snatching away. Or maybe even shaking your ass on another man in an attempt to make him jealous. Whatever the root cause, you were certainly regretting your poor decision!

“ ‘S too much…goddamn..so fucking big.”

instead of chopping it up with your girls or taking pictures in those matching Spider-Man and Spider-girl fits, the crotch area had been torn to shreds and his hand was cradling your throat with a vice grip. Your entire lower half was trembling in immense pleasure; sticky from the constant stimulation that tight little pussy being pounded into oblivion. Cream dripping all down the sides of your plush, mocha colored thighs..such a perfect contrast. Clutching your own legs, you’d claw those long acrylics into your skin as those brown eyes rolled to the back of your skull; your body jolted around by those deep, unrelenting strokes. Although you two fucked like animals, it never made it any easier to adjust to how massive he was. Even after trying his damndest to train that body of yours, you could never take him past the halfway point. That thick girth, mushroom tip swollen from the repetitive prodding and those big, round balls smacking against your clit. It felt amazing but it was always a challenge. Releasing a series of whiny and shrill cries, you’d attempt to paw at his shredded six pack but to no avail, you couldn’t keep him out of you. The collision of your flesh filling the room alongside his deep voice, taunting you endlessly..it certainly didn’t help when his larger frame towered over you as well. Regardless of you being a bit bigger than the average woman, he handled you as if you weighed nothing more than that of a feather. Picking you up and thrashing you around at his leisure..it was so hot!

“Talk your shit now, baby. C’mon. Talk that shit with my dick inside of you.”

giving you another reminder not to try him with his thumb circling your clit. His hands soon made place on your pudgy little tummy, which he used to reign you in. His thrusts because faster by the second and you were coming unglued even quicker, quivering and quaking, he’d soon bog all of his weight down on your frame, truly honing in on your sweet spot. He was ensuring you had nowhere to run..it wasn’t long before that tight cunt was squeezing him with all your might and letting those first few inches stretch you open, just enough to get exactly what he wanted. “Come..” his only command and you’d follow shortly thereafter with a giant stream of spraying juices that coated his pecs and abs. A show that didn’t halt for almost an entire minute!…leaving you completely paralyzed with pleasure. Smacking your thigh, your boyfriend cackled in the most maniacal manner as he watched you writhe underneath him. Offering only more snarky remarks rather than solace.

“Next time, don’t get cute and make a scene in front of your little friends..you’re not in charge here, remember that.”

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

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She's here and she's ours - Lewis Hamilton

Pure fluff.

Sequel She's here and she's not only ours (+1k)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1k

a/n: I'm 100% sure Lewis is gonna be a girl dad, like there's no other option in my mind. Also, I might make this a series of firsts with his kids, maybe 🙃

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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First-borns took longer to come, you’d been told that much, but 26 hours of active labor seemed like a bad joke.

The due date had been almost a week prior, which meant she had to be induced, but at the end of it all a perfectly healthy, and tad bit big, 20.7 inches and 7.3 pounds baby girl had made her arrival in the early hours of a cold, but sunny, Wednesday.

The three days stay at the hospital also meant all of your and his family had had more than enough time to get to Monaco still in time to chat, have lunch and joke around with you, contractions only ever getting really strong the night before your water finally broke. At a time your perfectly thought-out labor plan had already been torn to pieces.

She was meant to be born in the water, that’s how you and Lewis had dreamt of for months, but being as stubborn as both of you were she didn’t turn and a breach meant being ready for an emergency c-section, if needed. It also meant an epidural would be more than likely required, something you fought your hardest against but eventually agreed to after a couple hours with labor going quicker with the water broken. At the end you still managed to have her naturally, with a second degree tear nonetheless.

But the tiredness, your back killing you, the heartburn, the swollen feet and the pain, none of it took center stage in your mind as you watched your daughter, as weird as that word sounded, falling asleep in her father’s chest.

As soon as she had had her first feed in your breast the nurse asked if skin on skin with the father was something you both would like to happen. His eyes, who had been gleaming with pride since the second the doctor announce she was girl, watered as the nurse handed the infant to a shirtless Lewis, seated at your side in the sofa by the window.

She squirmed a bit as her small body tried to find comfort against his muscular chest, one of his hands almost big enough to hold her entire body while the other supported her neck and head. And as if in a movie, as soon as he spoke, her body relaxed and she contently sighted with the sound she had spent the last months hearing from inside you, a voice almost as constant as yours to her.

“She’s here, babe, and she’s all ours.” You couldn’t really tell if he was telling you or himself that, his eyes wouldn’t leave the infant in his arms and his movements were careful and kept to a minimal

“How you feeling dad?” Your voice breaking the spell he seemed to be under, his eyes shining with love for his family, the one he finally had.

“Amazed, hopeful, scared… in love” He almost whispered after thinking for a bit.

It was Lewis first year with Ferrari, all the excitement and buzz from the move were gone and real life had set in. Redbull were still dominating the grid, Ferrari a bit closer than the previous year, with both driver even managing to snatch a vitory each, but still the focus was now on the new regs for the 2026 car.

The mandatory summer shutdown was the perfect opportunity to destress for at least a week before the chaos started back again and Lewis made sure the ever-shorter time he had for a vacation would be perfectly spent with family and friends alike, somewhere in the sunny Mediterranean ocean.

It was on a hot and clear night that summer that your lives began to really change.

His step mom was talking about how hard it’d become to gain a few pounds of lean mass after menopause had hit, a curiously shy Willow asking her mom what menopause was and getting the period talk on the side while you mentally panicked that your period had been due for at least about 2 weeks, something you completely put to the back of your mind with the craziness of summer shutdown preparations.

You were on birth control, but still it could happen, you both knew that and had agreed on no condoms. Later that night, while Lewis got a late workout in and everyone else went to bed, you franticly looked for the package at the bottom of your suitcase, hoping the damn thing was still there.

Almost twenty minutes later Lewis found you on the bed staring at the night sea, lost in thoughts, shaking and so in over your head it took him at least 10 minutes to comprehend your rumbles about the test, still untouched at the adjoining suite sink, the line that read “pregnant 5-6 weeks” screaming back at you both.

To say the pregnancy took sometime getting used to was a light hearted way to say you went through hell mentally and physically. But still, the moment that tiny creature first kicked you after hearing her father’s voice melted any sign of a doubt left.

You were not only gifting Lewis his most treasured wish, you were gifting yourself a perfect symbol of the respect, companionship and love you two shared. A tiny human you and him got to raise and protect until she went out into the world and left her mark.

As everyone else came into the room to finally meet the newest Hamilton, Lewis’ moment with his newborn was interrupted by his mom getting to hold her newest grandkid, followed closely by his sisters, brother, niece and nephew crowding the sofa he sat just a few moments before.

“Thank you, babe, truly. I don’t even know how to tell you how grateful I am.” His lips kissing your hair from the top of your bed, eyes attentively watching as your girl got passed around.

“We’ll have at least 18 more years with her, you’ll have time.” You looked up at him to get his toothy smile just as your family walked into the room to complete the party.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you'd like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #formula 1 #f1 imagine

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heyimkana · 8 months

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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)

Episode 1: Morning

06.02 AM

Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side. You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.

Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.

(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)

The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.”

Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.

“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”

No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night.

A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again.

You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—

The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song.

Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.

You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.

Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Yeah, you can’t.

You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”

Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”

“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”

“It’s your alarm.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes.”

“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”

He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”

“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”

“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that).

Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”

“You love me that way.”

The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.”

Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.

“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.

“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”

At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”

To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air.

(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)

With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”

“Go to sleep, damn it.”

“I will after you answer my question.”

“Just one?”

“Just one. Promise.”

“Fine. What?”

“Do you remember when we first met?”

You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”

“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”

You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”

“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”

Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”

“Eeeeeeeeh?”

“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”

“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”

“With your money.”

“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”

The first time we met?

Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”

“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”

Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.

You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—

“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.

Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”

Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth.

Gojo Satoru.

He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.

Lucky bitch.

“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”

You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”

You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?

“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat.

“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”

“What?”

“The gate, genius.”

“You want me to climb up the gate?”

“How else are you planning to go inside?”

“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.

Well, aside from one thing.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”

Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”

“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”

“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”

His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”

Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”

“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”

“Wait!”

He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”

“You’re annoyingly talkative.”

“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”

You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.

“Any day now, cupcake.”

Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”

“What—Hey!”

With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you.

You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”

“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”

You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”

“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder. “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!”

Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”

“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.

“You wanted clean shoes, right?”

“Not by using me!”

You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”

Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”

“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up.

On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!

Eh?

“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.

You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”

“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”

“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”

“But your bag is over there—”

“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”

Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”

“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”

“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”

“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”

“Oh, you little—”

“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”

“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.”

Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”

Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”

“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Am not.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”

“Not interested.”

His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”

“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”

“That’s Dutch.”

“Whatever.”

Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”

“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”

“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”

“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”

“Say the magic word then.”

Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”

You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“That’s stupid!”

“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”

“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”

“Goodbye!”

You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?

“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”

You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”

Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.

“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist.

Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.

Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.

Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”

“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.

Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—

“The Last Day of Summer.”

You blinked twice. “Huh?”

“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”

“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”

“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.

Wait. Sniff?

Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”

“I will push you.”

“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”

“You—”

“HEY! YOU TWO!”

The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”

“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”

“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.

You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.”

That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you.

You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?

Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.

So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.

You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.

Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”

It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes...

They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…

(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)

Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?

“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe.

You fidgeted. “W-what?”

“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”

Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”

He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”

“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”

“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”

“I heard that, Satoru!”

“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”

“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”

“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”

Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.

He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”

He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“Just a bruise.”

“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”

“We?”

“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”

“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”

I hope not, you shuddered.

“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”

“I’m fine.”

“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”

“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”

“Running away from me? Coward.”

“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”

Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“For what?!”

“Our date!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.

These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.

(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)

And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly.

“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”

“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.

“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”

He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”

“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”

“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”

“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”

“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”

“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”

“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”

“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”

“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”

“Okay, deal.”

You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.

“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.

You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”

You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass.

“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.

You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”

“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.

“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay~”

“I’m serious.”

He pretends to zip up his mouth.

“Okay, good. Stay like that.”

Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.

Can’t say the same about his other body parts though.

Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking.

“Satoru,” you warn him.

He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.

You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.

Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us.

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.

“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.

You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.

With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.

You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.

His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.

But two can play at this game.

You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised.

With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.”

“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”

His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm.

You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”

“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”

“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”

“Oh, that’s it, come here!”

You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”

No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.

Like now.

Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.

Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.

Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.

Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.

I love you.

Satoru.

“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say.

But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…

“Satoru?”

He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?”

You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”

“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.”

“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”

You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”

“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Babe.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”

“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed.

“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”

“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”

“Moment’s gone, Toru.”

“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”

You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”

“Babeeeeee~”

You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.”

As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”

Yeah, your husband is insufferable.

And that’s why you love him.

***

Next Chapter

Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️

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