keiluv-s

Latest Posts by keiluv-s

“i can do the alphabet in sign language!” eri chirps to you one night, tugging at the bottom of your skirt as she gazes up at you with that sparkle in her eyes she gets when she's about to show you something important.

the city hums softly outside your window. cars in the distance, someone’s dog barking, the occasional clink of a bottle hitting pavement. you’re curled on the couch with your legs tucked beneath you, fingers grazing the hem of the throw blanket, and eri’s settled close, knees bumping yours, her face lit by the soft blue flicker of the tv screen.

your mouth parts into a soft gasp, eyes going round with surprise, delight catching in your throat. “that’s so cool!” you grin, reaching for her instinctively, brushing a hand through her snowy hair. “you should show suki, he’d really like it.”

she nods, mouth stretched into a proud little beam, her arms winding around your leg in a hug, like she wants to melt into your side and stay there forever. “okay! where is he?”

you glance up, eyes flicking toward the hallway without much thought.

“i dunno,” you hum. “i think he’s getting your bedsheets.”

“i’m gonna go find him!” she cheers, letting go of you and running off without another word, small feet padding down the hallway before you can call out a reminder. to be gentle and cautious.

you sink back into the couch with a quiet wince, already imagining the startle that’s coming. katsuki doesn’t wear his hearing aids at home. he says they make him feel alienated, like he’s underwater in his own home. says he prefers the quiet, even when it means he misses footsteps behind him.

down the hall, eri’s palm skims the wall as she turns the corner.

“suki?” she calls out, forgetting he can't hear her.

she finds him with his back to the room, broad shoulders blocking the light from the closet as he reaches for the folded sheets on the top shelf.

she slowly steps over to his spot, tapping his bulgy arm and looking up at him with pride. he jumps, and almost blasts whatever it is coming near him. he knows it's not you, you make sure to knock on the wall or anything just to make yourself known before getting close to him.

it’s not dramatic, not loud, just a sharp inhale as his muscles twitch beneath his skin, the sheets nearly slipping from his hands, turning his head to look down at her in surprise.

“you scared me,” he mutters, voice low, words shaped more from breath than sound.

eri just grins up at him, undeterred. she lifts her right hand, fingers curling and tucking until they make a neat little H. katsuki raises a brow, the closet door creaking as it swings shut behind him.

immediately after, she forms an I with a soft grin

then she follows it with an I, fingers small and steady, her eyes never leaving his. her smile is proud. soft. expectant.

the moment reached him slower than it should have, but she keeps going.

her fingers move carefully, like she’s practiced this a hundred times in her room, mouthing the letters silently as she went. she starts spelling out the alphabet, grinning with pride.

by the time she gets to K, katsuki's kneeling, bringing himself to her level as he sits on his heels so they’re eye to eye. his expression softens in a way only a handful of people ever get to see.

his hand rises— not to stop her, not to fix her hands, not to take over. just to mirror her. to do it with her.

his lips are twitching, not into a smile yet, but close enough. something fond, folded under layers of gruffness and disbelief.

“you learn all that just for me?” he asks, low and rough.

eri nods, both hands flying up now, fingers tangling as she shows him N, then O, like she doesn’t want to waste time answering him out loud.

katsuki exhales like he’s been holding it in since she tapped him, then reaches forward and cups the back of her head gently, thumb brushing through her hair.

“your hair needs to be brushed." he murmurs, like he's trying to escape from the feeling inside of him. he's not even sure what it is, it just feels nice. to have her, this little girl, learn a language for him.

he reaches for the fallen sheets with a smile, a real smile. the kind that pushes up into his eyes and softens all the hard lines around his mouth.

When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔

I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔

husband!katsuki who has his sweet moments, not very often, but he has them.

‘do you know how pretty you are?’ Katsuki sighs as you’re laying on his chest one night, almost asleep

‘you tell me.. sometimes’ you say, his fingers intertwine in your hair ‘maybe I should tell you more’

‘you’re being nice, what going on’ you tease as he scoffs ‘you’re my wife, dumbass. I have to be nice to you’

‘there’s the man i married’

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮; 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, assistant/sugarbaby!reader, playfully mean(to you)!sugardaddy!ceo!geto, ceo!gojo, taped on vibrator, small butt plug (no anal), edging, window sex, masturbation, squirting on the window, control orgasm, calling suguru sir, service sub!reader, bdsm hints, light begging, dirty talking, heavy praise/light degradation, hints at sharing you, spanking, biting

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Suguru squeezing the ass of his cute little assistant. He loves hearing her soft squeal when he does it

Oreo: I’ve been fighting a headache trying to get this one done because I have a night need to be fucked like a whore against a window while gojo watches

Suguru looks past Jin, rock hard beneath the desk. You’re beautiful struggling to maintain your composure. Holding up his hand Jin falls quiet. “Bring me a glass of water.” Smirking when you stiffly stand, clenching your thighs together.

Clenching your thighs together, keeping eyes casted down, clasping your hands in your lap. Biting your lip, fighting for your life not to moan when the vibrator taped to your clit pulses faster.

You’re so close to cumming on Suguru’s sofa with one of his employees explaining their concerns. Soaking your underwear, your cunt clenching nothing. Your ass squeezing the small training plug.

“Yes sir!” Your voice is shaking, your whole body burning, cunt throbbing and tingling from the immense pleasure.

Turning away from Jin’s curious gaze. “As you were saying Mr. Jin.” The vibrations stop, the reprieve is welcoming and disappointing. Your sensitive clit twitches from getting worked up so close and the sudden lack of stimulation.

Opening the fully stocked mini fridge built into the wall, pulling out the bottle of water and a chilled glass from the cabinet beside. The toy vibrates on your soft clit, slapping your hand over your mouth, fighting yourself not to moan.

Ignoring Jin’s drawl, purely focusing on maintaining your slipping composure and not spilling the water. Throwing the plastic bottle into the recycle, grabbing the chilled glass of water, trembling. Getting lost in the sweet pleasure, it vanishes.

Taking a deep breath turning around to face your sugar daddy and his employee. Suguru isn’t looking at you, smiling at Jin. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention, I’ll see to it that’s taken care of, please see yourself out.” Pressing the button under his desk for the doors to slide open.

Jin nods his head, clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes sir, thank you.” Stiffly walking past Jin, grateful he finally leaving. Going around Suguru’s desk. Holding out his glass of water, his warm thick fingers brush your’s.

Pushing himself away from the desk. His thick bulge in his black dress pants, “Good girl, thank you for the water.” Squeezing a handful of your soft ass, you softly gasp, glancing over to where Jin stands on the elevator peering with wide eyes through the closing office doors.

Suguru massages your cheek. the toy vibrate on your soft clit. “Don’t cum, not yet.” Standing up, grabbing your jaw, gently prying you mouth open with his thumb. Taking a sip and spitting it into your mouth. “Swallow, but you can’t cum yet.”

Setting the cup down, unbutton your dress shirt. “Please! I don’t know how much longer I cannnn!” Clenching your trembling thighs together, knees buckling, legs weak. You grab onto Suguru’s hard, thick bicep.

Getting off on his massive height, unable to stop thinking of fat cock he has for you underneath his pants. Stroking his cock through his pants. “A little bit longer, you’re so hot squirming, struggling not to cum just to make me happy.” Tugging your skirt down, for you to step out of.

His phone buzzes, whining when Suguru answers, “Nasty pervert, I’ll fuck her against the glass for you to watch.” Putting his phone on speaker on the desk. “She such a slut she will get off on seeing you stroke your cock to her.” Slipping your shirt off, unclasping your bra, he can’t get them off fast enough.

Tears trickle down your face, Suguru wipes away one with his thumb. “Aw my sweet little slut is crying cause she can’t cum yet.” Turning to face the window, grabbing your leg lifting showing Satoru your sloppy wet cunt.

Begging, crying, cunt dripping. “I’m gonna! Please! I can’t hold back! It’s too much.” Grinding your hips back, Suguru’s hard cock pressed against your lower back.

Satoru unzips his pants, dropping them with his underwear, sitting down, squirting lube into his hand. “Fuck she sound hot whining like that.” Suguru turns you to face the window, lifting your legs giving Satoru standing in large window his office a perfect view.

“Cum!” Thick warm cum splashes into the window, trickling onto the ground. Trying to close your legs, shifting trying to get away from the intense stimulation.

Groaning in admiration, gliding two this fingers into you. “Nnn so warm n wet, perfect little cunt for my fat cock to ruin.” Taking the toy off your clit, tugging on the jewel of the butt plugged.

“You’ve been wearing this for two hours let’s give your ass a break. Mm fuck I can’t wait till I can fuck her into a gabbing cum filled mess.” Gliding the plug out of your ass, setting it on his desk.

Suguru crouches, slapping your ass biting your cheek, enticing soft whimpers. Holding onto your hip to steady you. Your head is fuzzy, legs wobbly, you haven’t cummed that hard before. You want more. “Wanna cum again, please sir take care of my needy cunt.” Spreading your legs, and bending over when he dips his head between, lovingly kissing your soft cunt.

Gliding his finger in, getting off on how your soft cunt take his fingers. “You been such a good slut for me, I’ll take such good care of your sweet tight cunt for you. After you can sit in my lap during the meeting. Then we can go home, have a candle lit dinner.” Biting your ass, sucking roughly groaning, pumping his finger faster.

Satoru’s breathy moans coming through the phone. His jerking his cock faster, sliding his hand through his soft white hair, tugging. His mouth dropping open, checks flushing pink. He slows his pace, smirking and winking at you. “You’re such a beautiful dirty whore getting off on watching me jerk off while he plays with your cunt.”

Smiling at Satoru, “I’m a pretty dirty whore who likes it getting fucked in front of you.” Suguru stands up, squeezing your ass, sliding his hand up your waist. Gently playing with your nipple, biting your shoulder. Tilting your head to the side, he trails kisses up

Satoru pleads “Let her press her beautiful slutty ass on the glass. Lemme see your sloppy beautiful cunt and sweet ass.” Looking up at Suguru for his approval, he spins you around on your high heels.

Unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off. Suguru is beautiful with his thick pecs, sculpted abs, broad shoulders slim waist and fat cock that rests on thick balls. “Let him see what’s gonna be taking good care of my fat cock.” Admiring your sugar daddy, bending over gliding your fingers into your needy cunt.

You want to cum again despite squirting. Suguru and Satoru always bring out an insatiable lust within you. You’d proudly be their cum stuffed whore.

Buzzing the front desk, “Don’t send or allow any calls through until I say otherwise, take a message if it’s urgent thank you.” Pressing your ass to the cold glass, shivering. Playing with your nipples, soft rubbing them, moaning the moment he lets the button go.

Suguru groans, you love the erotic way he sounds. “Nnn fuck send her over when you’re done, I wanna turn. You can put her plug back in. Wanna see her pretty ass stuffed mmm, gonna cover her soft cheeks in cum.” Grabbing Suguru’s cock, when he comes close, kissing his head.

He grabs your hair roughly turning you around, pinning your tits to the glass, keeping your ass out. Lining his fat, veiny cock up, you spread your legs apart pushing your hips back. “If she can walk sure, but you can’t fuck her ass not yet. Im taking her training slow, no reason not to savor perfection.” Spitting on your ass, smearing it with his thumb, gliding it in.

Keeping a firm grasp on your ass, groaning in pure relief. “Nothing else better than being inside you. Nnn making my legs go weak, you’re too perfect.” Grabbing your wrist, holding it behind your back. Offering your other wrist for him to hold together with one large hand.

Oreo’s m.list

VIRGIN!JJK FIC RECS

something about virginity loss fics makes me sooo wet... req by anon ^^ adding onto the list whenever i find more <3 mdni, nsfw content!

gojo digimon—but making u cum is my real hobby - blkkizzat strongest sorcerer virgin - megumiluv virgin and unexperienced bf!gojo - fatal fairies number one sorcerer (and virgin) - inmaki nerds do it better - sugugasm virginity loss & riding - creamflix

geto reformed player!geto - akicult virginity loss & riding - creamflix losing your virginity to geto suguru - yasu-1234 his favourite - h34rtbeat just let me love you - sttoru salvation - puppykento inked - choslut

nanami she said it's her first time - classyrbf sins of the flesh - semisgroupie perfect lover: the life of nanami kento the 35 year old virgin (series) - kanekisfavouritegf

yuuji oh my god, pretty - lokissweater virgin!yuji x virgin!reader - nana-au bff & virgin!yuji - nana-au yuji x f!reader - ickyuji

megumi best friend megumi fushiguro - onismdaydream megumi's birthday - mommypeick first time having sex is awkward - wild-jackaloupe how to fuck 101 - chosok-amo i think i'm ready - romantichomocide95 first time - megvmijx

yuta that boy is mine! i can't wait to try him! - rosesaints gummy bear - loveanddeepdick right here - love-jelly smile, you're on camera - seraphdreams

choso virgin!choso - teasingchoso choso kamo x f!reader - jaegerdilf mind body and soul - admirxation cherry blossoms ( 1 2 3 4 5 ) - sellenite cherry smoke clouds - kleftiko he's such a (hot) looser - classyrbf emo boy - krys4h

toji sins of the flesh - semisgroupietaboo crush - spideyyeet best friend's dad - nanaslut

sukuna virgin!sukuna - screampied

etc jjk!boys x virgin!fem reader v!rgin killa - screampied asking the jjk characters to take your virginity - nanaslut cherry popper - satorusugurugirl

Thoughts of knight! Megumi are hitting me hard.

From the age of ten, knight! Megumi grows up glued to your side. As the princess, your Father insisted upon someone guarding you at all times. He’s not a real knight as a child, but he’s training to become one! Megumi takes it seriously, mimicking everything Gojo, his mentor, does. He wouldn’t if it meant protecting anyone besides you.

Knight! Megumi is your best friend. It’s a secret of course, that you share inside jokes with him. That you whisper silly commentary about the stuck up citizens at the yearly ball thrown in your honor to him as he stands guard. Megumi has to hide his laughter with a cough or slam the metal face plate shut so he’s not caught slacking.

Knight! Megumi chases off all the sketchy suitors who wish for your hand in marriage. He knows you hate not being in charge of your own destiny, so if he can delay the inevitable even by a second, he will.

Knight! Megumi is the first boy you fall in love with. The only boy you fall in love with. He’s strong and loyal and pretty, and he scares away all the icky men. He’d strike down anyone for you if you’d only ask.

Knight! Megumi can’t say no when you plead with him to sneak into your bedroom in the dead of night. He’s wrapped around your finger, even more so when your pussy’s wrapped around his cock. When he shoves your knees to your chest he covers your mouth with his hand, or slips two fingers past your lips, presses on your tongue, and whispers “hush, princess.” The other guards can’t be allowed to catch on that Megumi’s fucking the princess, right? Surely the King would have his head.

Knight! Megumi knows that climbing into your bed every night contradicts just about every rule he’d been taught. He gives no fucks. He’ll never let another man lay hands on his princess. Megumi looks the King in the eyes and lies straight to his face, swearing on his life to protect your “virtue.” As if he hadn’t had his face in between your legs an hour ago.

Gojo’d be proud he’s sticking the middle finger to the man.

master list

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ you’re both breathing too hard already—and megumi hasn’t even taken off your panties yet.

the dorm is small. quiet. too quiet. just the hum of the ceiling fan overhead, the faint chirp of crickets outside, and somewhere across the wall, the unmistakable muffled laugh of yuji watching something dumb on his laptop. one thin wall away.

and still—megumi’s fingers are trembling as they trail up your thigh. his breath is shaky, warm against your neck. his voice barely a whisper.

“…you sure?”

you nod. you’ve nodded five times already, but it doesn’t stop the way his eyes flick up, searching your face like you might shatter under him. his hair falls across his forehead in soft, messy strands. his cheeks are pink. he’s trying to keep calm—cool, collected—but his cock has been twitching in his briefs since you kissed him like you meant it.

you hook your arms around his neck, your voice barely audible. “yes, ‘gumi. i want you. please.”

his name from your mouth makes his whole body twitch. like something snaps inside him.

he kisses you again—harder this time. tongue deep, needy. hands sliding up your bare thighs, dragging your sleep shirt up over your hips. he groans into your mouth when he sees what’s underneath: just the sheer lace of panties that barely cover anything.

“fuck,” he hisses. “you came here like this?”

you smirk, flushed and breathless. “i thought maybe you’d get the hint.”

he growls low, a sound you feel in your belly.

and then he’s pulling them down, his knuckles brushing your soaked folds. you flinch at the cold air, thighs clenching, and megumi pulls back just enough to stare—really stare.

“jesus,” he mutters, dark lashes low, eyes fixed on your cunt. “you’re dripping…”

“megumi—”

“you have to be quiet,” he warns, voice low and rough as his fingers slide through the slick between your thighs, stroking your folds slow. testing. teasing. “i mean it. yuji’s right there.”

you bite your lip. “then don’t make me moan.”

he huffs a laugh, smug, and presses a finger into you—slow. you arch, a tiny gasp slipping out before you can stop it. it’s tight. he groans when he feels the way you squeeze around him.

“so fuckin’ tight,” he whispers, kissing your jaw as he pumps gently. “gonna feel like heaven when i’m inside…”

your hips rock forward—needy, desperate—and he pulls his fingers free, watching your slick coat them, shiny in the low dorm light. he licks them clean. you watch. eyes wide.

then—finally—he pulls his cock out.

you gasp.

he’s big. thick. hard, flushed a deep red, the tip already leaking. you feel your stomach flip, a twist of nervous heat and excitement and ache.

“gonna go slow,” he promises, leaning over you, pressing the head to your entrance. “tell me if it’s too much.”

you nod. and then—

push.

he slides in slow, inch by inch. the stretch is real—burning, deep, your body resisting at first. you grip his shoulders, face buried in his neck as he groans—long and guttural—feeling your walls suck him in.

“shit,” he hisses. “you’re—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—so good.”

you’re panting against his throat, biting down a moan when he bottoms out. he doesn’t move yet—just kisses your temple, strokes your waist, lets you adjust while your whole body tries to memorize this feeling.

then—slow thrust.

you whimper, louder than you mean to.

megumi freezes. covers your mouth with his hand immediately, whispering hot against your ear.

“shhh. you have to stay quiet, baby. you don’t want yuji coming over, do you?”

you shake your head, eyes wide, tears pricking from the pressure. from how full you feel.

he starts moving—slow and deep, hips rocking into you gently, his hand still over your mouth to catch every ragged breath. his cock drags against your walls, thick and pulsing, and you can’t help the way your legs wrap around him tighter.

“you feel s-so good,” you whisper against his palm. “so big, megumi—”

he growls. “you’re killing me.”

he fucks you slow, quiet, deliberate. each thrust deeper, more confident. the sound of your bodies joining is filthy—wet, soft slaps as his cock sinks in over and over.

you start to tremble—your orgasm creeping up fast, tight in your belly.

“i—i’m gonna—”

“i know,” he whispers, lifting your leg, angling deeper. “cum for me. but be quiet.”

you bite your fist. your thighs shake. and then you’re cumming—hard, spasming around him, whole body tensed as you fight the scream burning your throat.

he groans—loud—and buries his face in your shoulder as he spills inside you, cock throbbing, cum spilling deep, hot and thick.

he stays there. breathing heavy. still buried deep.

and from across the wall—

“…the fuck was that noise?”

yuji.

you both freeze.

then megumi grins against your skin, cock still twitching inside you.

“…worth it.”

i just love tumblr…it’s like my little fanfic library 😞

Just Friends!?

-Art in the banner from nek0zuu_ on X-

Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and popular F! reader

Summary - Satoru Gojo was the biggest nerd EVER in high school with you, next door neighbors, study buddies, you were the best friends in the world. Never having the courage to ask you -the 'popular girl' out- you never knew he felt for you. He ended up leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- getting famous with a modeling career, and lost touch with everyone from his old life. While you're working the family pub to help out your parents, years later, he finally comes back to visit, just to have you making his drink. Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin. You feel he's so accomplished now, and you're just a small town girl, but little do you know, you've never left his mind.

Warnings - Will be explicit and smutty (it's me!?) Nerdjo turned famous and cocky, but he's still just a Nerdjo deep down hehe- his chap, mentions of sex/getting turned on, Gojo being an ass tbh, welcome back Jock Sukuna and say hi to bitchy model Samantha lol, some angst and mutual pining, lots of feelings

Based HEAVILY on the 2005 Rom com Just Friends - part of my amazinggg moot @indiewritesxoxo's Friday night flicks! 🌙

<<<Part One - Masterlist

Part Two

Your POV

It was odd, being back in your hometown after years of living on your own, but when your family needed help with their bar, and with student loans piling up -  teaching did not pay very well - you couldn’t help but come back home for a bit. The shifts at the hometown bar helped, and staying with your parents for just a few months was definitely a life saver.

It’s not exactly where you saw yourself, teaching lay offs all over, now you have a preschool class here and you love it, but it’s definitely not enough to cover everything. You feel so… just upset, that you’re back here at your first job, grabbing beers for familiar faces, people who never left their hometown, and some that have, but came back like you did.

Despite it being Spring, it was freezing where you lived, some cold spurt that brought on snow in March, so many of the town were curling up by the roaring fire, bundled up laughing and drinking to stay warm. The bar had quite a cozy atmosphere, it reminded you of home, truly, you grew up here, from bussing tables and cleaning to serving drinks.

“Hey love, you look amazing.” You see Suguru and Shoko then, Shoko has a cigarette between her fingers, a familiar smile that makes you beam, as you come out from behind the bar, hugging them both.

“I missed you two oh goodness!” You receive a kiss on each cheek from them, as you hug them together.

“We heard you were back in town, how have you been?” Suguru asks softly, you sigh a bit, peering up at the tall man.

“I can’t believe I’m back here. Layoffs.” They frown then. “I heard you all run a whole dentist office!?”

“Sugu is a hot dentist.” Shoko teases, and he smirks a bit.

“Shoko runs the clinic attached to it. She outranks me.”

“Always.” You laugh with the two of them, hands on their shoulders now.

“I’m so proud of you two, what? Doctors, I can't believe that.”

“Hey now, teaching is important.” Shoko brushes your hair back softly, earning your flushed cheeks at her praise.

“They definitely don’t make enough.” Suguru says, earning your sigh.

“You’re telling me. Let me get you all drinks!” You eagerly bounce back, mixing them up drinks, Shoko loves a lemon drop from what you remember, and Suguru always enjoyed a rum and coke.

“You remember!” Shoko winks as you hand her the pretty drink, garnishing it with a little lemon swirl and grinning. The noise of the bar fills your ears, as you lean across the polished bar table, glinting under the soft lights overhead.

“Of course I remember. Gosh, it’s been four years since I’ve seen you all I think.” You all start catching up, but of course it starts to get busier, and you begin to take care of all the customers as Suguru and Shoko start tossing darts at the black and red circled board.

You smile at them, they’d always been the perfect couple, making that longing fill you too much. You fully expected to be married with kids by now, sure it was quite a homey little dream, that white picket fence, maybe two kids and some cute golden retriever, but that’s what you always dreamed of. Unfortunately, your bad taste and men did not end in high school.

“Speak of the devil…” You murmur nervously, when you see him, Ryomen Sukuna looking just as good if not better than high school, he still wears his damn letterman’s jacket from college, where he’d become an all star player, you hear now he’s even going pro.

What’s he doing back home?

He grins over now, red eyes sharp as ever, and you fully anticipate him bothering you, saying something pervy, as he walks across the crowded bar, stopping to talk to almost everyone, he was quite a name here. The only person more famous from your little town - there is a population of fourteen thousand and perhaps four stop lights- was Satoru Gojo.

You’d seen him on the damn cat walk, recently he was on the cover of Vogue, him and some other really famous model, this little smirk on his face that just doesn’t fit the boy you knew. If you thought he was cut before, his body was damn near godly, so perfect it was intimidating, and he’d only gotten prettier, not that Satoru wasn’t always so pretty.

He just didn’t know it then.

You think of him sometimes, hurt initially back when summer break hit after high school, and he refused all your calls, he refused to see or talk to anyone when you all lived so fucking close. You tried everything you could, feeling awful because it was your party and you didn’t know, could you have done more? Could you have shoved everyone out?

You were fully planning to if he’d just given you a moment. Your yearbook to this day is something you cherish, and reading his sweet words over and over, he’d taken over an entire page, with words of love you’ve never felt before. But to say it was all ‘a joke’ and leaving, never accepting a friend request, shit he didn’t even talk to Suguru or Shoko, his other best friends.

Satoru never spoke of his hometown in interviews, and when you saw his mom recently, you learned he’s never come home. You know things were hard on him, brutal even, but you wish he knew just how much you loved him, cared for him, sure it was more of a beautiful friendship, but you also were attracted to him, though you were scared to ruin that friendship.

If he just gave you a damn moment.

A friendship you built your entire life demolished, and you miss him even now, you miss the quiet mornings you two would study at the library, you miss the cup of coffee he’d have for you every morning. You missed the little sleepovers, playing pokemon games together, battling it out on the Wii, the amount of things the two of you shared, gone in a moment.

Sukuna leans across the bar, shaking you out of your reverie, his familiar, arrogant smirk just a little softer as his ruby eyes drape down your body, you’re just in some jeans and a polo, nothing too sexy for the family bar here. But he seems to take pleasure in every slow inch, murmuring your name.

“Look at you, even hotter than high school, shit.” You heat up a bit under his gaze, tilting your head and running your hand across your neck.

“Thank you, Sukuna. You look good too.” You earn his wide grin, as he swipes a hand through his pink hair, snowflakes melting just a bit as he leans his hip against the bar now.

“I’ve wondered how you were doing, aren’t you a teacher?”

“I am, but… layoffs.” Sukuna frowns a bit. “I’m teaching preschool here for now, but it’s…”

“They don’t pay shit.” On this, everyone agrees,

“Mmhmm, but it’s my passion. So here I am, working the student loans off.” You wink at him, and he softens then, resting his elbow on the bar, a hand in his chin.

“So pretty you shouldn’t be working.”

“Oh… no. Not at all.” You clear your throat, something is so different about him, he’s not the asshole you remember, or so it seems. “But just temporary, I’m finishing up a couple classes to teach higher education.”

“You always were smart, you’ll do well.”

“Oh… thank you, Sukuna.”

“Used to call me Kuna you know.” You giggle now, easing a bit, even under his gaze, which keeps darting down your body. “God you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Say that to the freshman fifteen that never left.” Sukuna chuckles then, when you turn and bend over, grabbing a beer.

“Went to your nice ass-”

“Sukuna!” You glare behind yourself, and he’s chuckling. “Here I was thinking you were all sweet.”

“I am sweet, thank you. Shit I’d love to catch up sometime?” You hand him his beer, sighing then.

“I don’t know…”

“Lunch or something?”

Satoru’s POV

Satoru’s stepping into the bustling bar with the most annoying model ever, cock hungry too, who’s clinging to his arm, looking at the little bar in disgust, while he eyes the familiar surroundings. He scoffs as he sees Sukuna’s letterman jacket, so pretentious really, and eyes everyone around, surely… your parents still run this place, he wonders, do you ever come visit?

“It’s so… quaint.” Comes Samantha’s voice next to him, running her fingers along the dusty bar, grimacing, she’s as tall as Satoru in her heels, perhaps one of the few women who he doesn’t tower over. All models were pretty tall, but typically he still had a couple inches, but Samantha was the best in her field, and maybe longer legs than Satoru Gojo himself.

“Yeah, I guess compared to LA.” He murmurs, the surroundings oddly comforting, despite how much he thought he’d hate it here. Something about shivering in the cold and then coming to this warm, bustling bar was…

Homey.

It gnaws at him, as people recognize him, and they begin to all come up, many who used to pick on him. He clings to that pretty model of his tighter, putting on a bright grin and lowering his black Gucci shades, the two of them are decked out in Saint Laurent and looking like a million bucks. Even in public, you had to make sure you were dressed to kill.

“Holy shit…” Satoru sees Suguru and Shoko then, their mouths drop as they come up to him. He's spoken to them a little here and there, but overwhelmingly has not said much since college was over. “Look at you two!”

“Look at you, all preening like a peacock.” Shoko rolls her dark eyes, sipping on a drink as she assesses him and his ‘girl’ who is clinging to him, laughing far too fake to ever be taken for as genuine, grating on his nerves.

“How cute, townies!” Samantha says, tossing blonde hair back, and Satoru scowls over at her.

“Who’s the snob?” Suguru asks boldly, making her gasp as Satoru’s muffling his laughter.

“Be nice.” Satoru warns, hands in the pockets of his red dress pants, a ruby so bright and bold it’s ridiculous for a place where people wear jeans and flannels.

“They’re not nice, Gojo. I don’t like it here!” She’s stomping her feet, and Satoru sighs, shaking his head.

“Go get a drink, hmm?” He turns her and smacks her ass, she cringes then.

“Myself!?”

“Become immersed in the small town, it’ll be good publicity, sweets.” He winks as she pouts and saunters off, ignoring the men and at one point hissing at one.

“She’s on drugs or…” Suguru trails off, and Satoru snorts.

“She’s definitely on a good Adderall / Xani combo. Shit… I missed you guys.” He ruffles Shoko’s hair, and shoves at Suguru good naturedly, Suguru smiles a bit, dark hair even longer than Satoru remembers.

“Sure you did. Come back to visit?”

“Uh… no.” He peers at his phone, sighing now. “Our suite for whatever reason isn’t available, I was stopping here and going to call Mom, since I have no reception whatsoever.”

“Why would you bring her to your mom’s, doesn’t she suffer enough with you as her kid?” Shoko earns Satoru sticking his tongue out, picking up the phone and dialing.

“Toru, sweetie!” Satoru sighs, he loves his mom, but to this day she really treats him like a child, even now.

“Hey mom, cool if I stay a few nights? I have a modeling-”

“You’re coming home!?” Satoru winces, pulling back the phone as Suguru and Shoko laugh.

“Yeah, if it’s-”

“I’ll make your favorite, baby, triple stack pancakes with sundae-”

“No, no, too many carbs.” He hears his mom’s sigh of disappointment, and clenches his jaw just a bit, looking over to see Samantha taking pictures of herself on her fancy phone, throwing up a pose now. “I guess yeah, I’ll eat pancakes.”

“My baby, oh I can’t wait, let me get started now!” His mom hangs up, and he can’t help but feel that fondness, the emptiness he’s had for so long just the tiniest bit filled by her voice.

“She’s excited.” He muses, sighing then. “I need a drink.”

Suguru and Shoko eye each other, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrow, studying their odd expressions. “Yes, you should, bartender she’s amazing.” Shoko’s smiling, and Satoru’s lips purse a bit.

“Hmm, guess I’ll see. I’ll be back.” He pats their shoulders again, heading over and passing more and more familiar faces, gosh none of them left, huh?

He leans against the bar, poking around on his phone as he hears Sukuna, asking then - 

“Lunch sometime?”

He snorts, eyeing the tall, big man who used to torment him, now eye to eye with him, and damn near his size. Sukuna blinks in surprise a bit when Satoru eyes him with humor.

“Lunch is friendzone territory, ouch.” Sukuna glares now, fists clenching on the bar, and that’s when…

You see him.

Satoru Gojo.

“Maybe I like lunch.” Your voice shocks him then, he eyes you, wide blue eyes going to the face of the girl he loved.

Your face.

You’re so pretty it makes his heart thud out of his fucking chest, you’re just like you were, maybe a bit more mature looking now, but god it was like a blast from his past, the ultimate memory of you couldn’t compare. You’re so beautiful, this fucking glow around you still, that comfort he has been craving hitting him in one instant, as he just stands there.

Satoru Gojo, who got whatever girl he wanted, was just standing there, staring at you, with his lips parted, you are heating up under his scrutiny, unsure of just what he was thinking, biting that lower lip a bit and shifting. He notices now, that you’re not fawning over him, drooling, like women did, if anything you’re glaring just a bit, your jaw set.

“I… you… here…” He can’t compute a fucking word - stupid, stupid - why did you reduce him to pathetic again, after all these years!?

“Yes, I work here again. I know, it’s not what I imagined either.” Your soft, devastated words attack him, making him feel like you punched him right in the gut, as Sukuna raises a brow at Satoru.

“Friend zone, did you just say that?” Satoru’s sputtering now, before clearing his throat, shutting his eyes and taking a breath.

He’s not some ‘nerd’ anymore.

He’s Satoru Fucking Gojo.

He smirks and leans against the bar, eyeing you slowly, pulling off pretentious shades that make you miss his tortoiseshell glasses. But when those piercing, swirling blue eyes hit you, trailing like Sukuna’s had, you feel so shy suddenly, so nervous around him, after so long. Surely he was looking down at you, surely he was so high and mighty that your life seemed sad to him.

You stand a little straighter now, while the two men, who have changed so much, both eye you, a blast from fucking high school if you ever saw one. “Look at you…” He murmurs your name softly, like a caress- shit his voice is deeper, it’s so sure, so cocky and conceited, not the sweet boy you miss. “You look great.”

“Thanks, so do you.” You manage softly, he’s in some suit worth as much as your year of work you’re sure, open with a vest showing of chest muscles, fuck he has red silk gloves, it’s so ridiculous you almost laugh.

He’s gorgeous but…

Who is he really?

“Working here again, huh?” He means it to be casual, but the way it comes off makes you straighten your shoulders, as Sukuna winces.

“All that money, all those women and you never learned.” Satoru scowls at Sukuna now, while you turn away, giving him a view of a body he’s dreamed of, fuck you’re even sexier now, those jeans sitting just right, is none of you not perfect, not beautiful?

“What can I get you, Gojo?” You ask after grabbing another beer for Sukuna, who takes it with a smile, and he tenses at that.

Gojo.

When did you ever call him anything but ‘Toru’?

But, you all are literally strangers now.

“Martini.” He says, earning Sukuna’s snort, Satoru’s scowl heads his direction once again as you start to get the ingredients together, shaking it up in the gold shaker like a pro.

“Little bitch drink.”

“Beer is disgusting, fuck that.”

Sukuna glares as he sips the drink, and you pour Satoru his martini, garnishing it and giving a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “One martini.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You falter, at his soft voice, at the way he says everything as if it were some caress.

“You’re welcome.” He hands you far too much money then, making you blink. “It’s only ten bucks.”

“Keep the rest, love.” He winks now, and you feel your face heating up, did he think you needed it so badly? Does he pity you?

Does he care?

“Thanks… um, sure on lunch, Sukuna.” Satoru’s teeth clench, like watching history repeat itself. “Even if it’s ‘friend zone’ I’m fine with meeting up.”

“Perfect, here’s my number…” He writes it right on one of the pretty white napkins, and you take it carefully. “I’ll be in town all week.”

“Alright, sounds good.” Sukuna tips you, not the exorbitant fifty dollars Satoru just handed you, but a twenty, with a little nod of his head, as he passes Satoru now, and Samantha comes right up to him.

“Oh look at you, all star for the-” She’s flirting but Sukuna ignores her, winking at you and making you want to giggle, but you barely hold it in. “So rude! Gojo, can we please leave this shitty little bar?”

You scowl right up at the tall, beautiful model who pouts over at Satoru, clinging to his arm, he stiffens, but you see it, clearly they’re… together. “The ‘shitty little bar’ is owned by my family. And you are more than welcome to leave.”

“Oooh, you’re feisty.” She’s giggling psychotically, using her hand to make a clawing motion. “Rawr!”

“The fuck…” You shake your head, sighing as you set back to work, Samantha’s hands running down Satoru’s chest, irritating him to no end.

All he can see is you, and you’re just turning away, the girl he…

He left.

He left you.

No word, no goodbye, and he thought maybe it wouldn’t feel like this, maybe after eight years and endless women in his bed, he could stop feeling like this, stop the love he had. He tried to chalk it up to puppy love, you were the nicest person to him, of course he developed feelings, right?

Wrong.

He watches as you head out from behind the bar as Samantha’s going on and on about some Instagram post, downing the rest of his martini. “We’ll leave in a minute, go wait in the car.”

“I can’t believe we don’t even have a driver, ugh!” Satoru blinks at her, turning her now, watching as you stop and talk to Suguru and Shoko, smiling so sweet, lighting up the whole fucking room.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Oh fine but…” She drags him down by his tie, whispering in his ear then- “I can suck you while you drive.”

What would once excite him doesn’t compute, he just nods and pushes the crazy woman to the entrance of the bar. “Sure whatever.”

“No pictures, please.” She throws on her sunglasses, as curious people wonder just what this woman is talking about, and Satoru feels your eyes on him then, his catch yours across the room. He watches you tense, as he steps closer, and Shoko and Suguru depart, giving you both one moment.

“Hi.” He manages to say, and for once, the pretentious rich model reminds you of him, the boy you grew up with, the one you miss so badly it feels like he’s a dream.

“Hi.” Your soft voice ends him, you’re shifting side to side, Satoru towers over you, making you feel so small then, as he presses a hand against the wall over your head, tilting your chin up with his other hand. Your eyes go wide then, breath catching, heart hammering.

“I’d love to catch up, I am here for a few days, I’ll be at mom’s.” You blink a bit then, looking down, gently taking his hand off your chin by his wrist, the contact making you both pause. For a moment he pictures it, kissing you, making every move he failed at in high school, taking your lips over.

He pictures so much, up to and including you under him, shit maybe now he’d have a chance with a girl like you, maybe he could taste your sweetness, could inhale that vanilla body spray you somehow wear eight years later. Could show you pleasure he bets you never got before, cock aching just being in your presence, he has to will it to go down.

“Your mom, I just saw her.” You ease his hand down, back resting against the wall just a bit, hair falling across your shoulders, you gasp when he brushes it back, another move he had tried and failed at back then.

That night should have been his first kiss.

You should have been his first everything, fuck.

“Could we do dinner or drinks?” His tone reminds you of what he said earlier, so you smile, a little mean glint in your eye.

“Maybe lunch.”

“Lunch!?” He’s glaring, thin white brows lowered, and you giggle.

“Coffee?”

Shit.

“Or is that too ‘friend zone’ for you, Gojo.” Satoru blinks a bit, hand falling, barely brushing your shoulder when it falls, you try to ignore how good it feels, he tries to act nonchalant, not like the fucking world is faded, aside from you. That the entire bar is just an echo, it’s just you.

And you’re furious, he can feel it. “No, no I mean it’s fine. If you want… coffee we can do coffee.” He can’t believe he’s saying this, he brushes his white locks back, winking down then. “We can do whatever you want.”

“Uh huh. Well, coffee then, if you want to catch up I’m surprised, considering it all though.” Satoru’s jaw clenches just a bit.

“I’d like to catch up.” You soften at his first vulnerable statement, the first thing that feels real. “How about in the morning, are you staying nearby?”

“I’m living with my parents for a couple months.” He frowns at that, you suddenly feel so insecure, a rich model right in front of you, just as he said that day- that he’d make it, and you all…

Would just burn out.

Maybe you did.

“Oh, you are, is something wrong?”

“Helping them a bit, big teacher layoffs nationwide.”

“You teach?” His smile is finally genuine, as you nod, so shyly, his shoulders relax, as his hands slip in his pockets once more. “You always wanted to.” Your eyes shoot up to his now, swirling beautiful blue, a hint of the sweet boy you adored.

“You remember?”

“How couldn’t I…”

“I figured you forgot us all.” Satoru gulps down the guilt, as you manage to pull yourself together, sighing. “Come by my parents in the morning, if you remember where they are.”

“How can I forget, it’s across the street.”

“All right then… I look forward to it.” He awkwardly leans down, as you wrap a friendly arm around his waist, inhaling his cologne, much different than the boy who wore axe body spray and always sucked on lifesavers. His hard body against your much softer one feels a little too good, when he rests his chin on your head.

Nothing has ever felt better than holding you in his arms.

Memories swirl for the both of you, but it’s different, Satoru seems like some bold and pretentious stranger, but for a moment you remember. You remember crying in his arms, over this breakup or that, you remember his sweet hugs during study sessions, you remember laughing and watching the dumbest movies. You exhale just a bit, as a big hand presses the small of your back.

Satoru missed you.

He doesn’t say it, he can’t say anything, pulling back and looking at you then, hand coming to cup your face, opening his mouth to speak when Samantha starts shouting “I’m bored Gojo! I’m so bored!”

The entire bar turns her direction, you fall back a bit, as Gojo internally curses, seeing the brat that is his partner crossing her arms in that fur coat. “I’m coming okay, shit!”

“Your girlfriend is bored.” You’re giggling then, you can’t help it, covering your face as Samantha glares.

“Not my girlfriend, jesus. Um… okay, the morning.” You nod, walking off now, past Samantha, who hisses at you like the psychotic bitch she is, making Satoru grimace with Suguru and Shoko walk up to Satoru.

“You fucked that intro up.” Suguru says, snorting as he puts his arm around Shoko’s waist, and she’s laughing.

“Fucked it up bad.”

“Oh like you’re any help.” They just shake their head, eyeing Satoru’s screaming model bestie.

“See you in eight more years.” Suguru’s words sting, as Satoru feels it then, the guilt eating away at him, but Samantha won’t shut up long enough for him to process, he drags her out into the cold, chilled air, seeing you climbing up into what appears to be your SUV, your eyes flicker to him for just a moment, before you shut the door.

“You like townies hmm? Can’t stop eye fucking girl next door.” Satoru’s eyes make even Samantha falter then.

“Who I like is none of your fucking concern. In.” He plops down in the rental, an audi of course, god forbid Satoru Gojo or Samantha would be seen in anything less, on that they are the same.

“You’re so cranky, she’s hot, just… gives those girl next door vibes.”

“Yeah well, she was the girl next door for me. Almost.” He feels her hand now, trailing over his thigh, she leans over and laughs in his ear, making him cringe. “How’d I get stuck with-”

“Let me make you feel so good, should I suck little Gojo?”

“Little Gojo!? It’s not little, Samantha.” He shoves her off, and she pouts again, crossing her arms.

“How’d I get stuck with you is the question, no fun. Now we have to go stay in poorville.”

“It’s the fucking suberbs.”

“Poor. Poor. Poor. Boring, boring.” Satoru almost pushes her out of the goddamn car, no blow job would be worth it, even if it would shut her up for a moment, even if his cock twitches thinking of you.

He pulls up to his home, his mother already has it opened when he walks up, hugging him tightly, kissing his face all over and making him wince. “Mom…”

“My baby, I never thought you’d come home.” She’s got tears in her pretty blue eyes, she visits LA once a year or more, but now the way tears fall from eyes that match his wracks him with guilt.

He could have come back at least once, right?

No, no he couldn’t.

“And this is…”

“Samantha.” She shakes his mom’s hand, tossing back long blonde locks and smiling. “You have such a quaint little home.”

Satoru’s mom blinks rapidly, brows together, this wasn’t a small home, it was four stories and lovely, left to them from Satoru’s dad, but he supposes to a rich, spoiled brat like Samantha, it’s ‘quaint’. “Um, thank you, and you’re staying too?”

“Unfortunately.” Satoru’s mom raises her brows, as Samantha clings to Satoru once again, grinning.

“I get to meet the mom, huh? I’m so special-”

“Let’s eat.”

Satoru finally leaves a snoring, annoying model brat Samantha alone in the guest room, when he walks inside his childhood room, frozen. Time has been frozen, his mother hasn’t changed a single fucking thing, up to and including pictures of you and him all over the walls. He gulps down his emotions, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click, undressing carefully.

He sees his old nerdy ass sweater, one you’d gotten him, still folded on his desk, like he never left. His fingers brush the fabric, as he stares at his reflection, feeling like he’s a ghost in his own room. The connections start to build, the mirror he kissed that night, the endless photos and mementos he kept. He eyes that box now, opening a letter carefully, crumbled and faded ink.

My Toru, I hope you have the best day, I can’t wait for the movies!

Toru, can you believe how the year has flown by!?

Do you want to go bowling Y or N

Your new glasses are so cute I love them!

Bad day today, sorry I’m quiet.

Tears fall down his cheeks, he only notices when the blotches form on the ink, all the times you’d write to him every day, passing little notes in class with hearts all over them, brightening his day. He’d kept every single fucking one, and there were so, so many in this tin box, stuffed inside like all of his fucking feelings.

He wipes his eyes quickly, shaking it off, pulling out his luggage with his own clothes and getting dressed in sweats for the night, curiously pushing on the cd left in the player, sighing then. Your favorite song, it’s that mixed CD he was making you, the one he never gave you. Satoru quickly turns it off, the button a resounding click, walking to the corkboard littered with you.

Knock knock knock.

“Come in, mom.” She does just that, peeking her pretty face, still so young looking, so sweet as she smiles at him. “You didn’t change any of it.”

“No, I always hoped you’d come back, at least for a day.” She walks up to Satoru now, seeing the photos he’s staring at now, Satoru and you sipping a milkshake together with two straws, in the middle of a diner. “You two were so sweet, she’s back in town you know.”

“I know… I’m seeing her in the morning.” His mom’s eyes light up, and he laughs a bit. “Don’t get excited, my life isn’t here mom.”

“Part of it will always be.” She cups his face, smiling up at him. “I hope you have fun with her, she has kept in touch all these years you know.”

“She has?”

“Yes, she… misses you. She asks about you when she visits town.” Satoru blinks back emotion, turning away now, clearing his throat.

You asked about him after all this? After he'd gone out of your life for good? What if he just heard you out, what if he…

“I’m tired, mom.” Mrs. Gojo nods, a hand on his back for a moment.

“Good night, Toru.”

“Night.” He lays in his bed, phone blowing up, his agent with details, a coordinator for the show, friends from LA teasing him on having to come back home, but he quickly turns it off, holding a photo of you, the only one he brought.

He gently touches it, sighing, wondering…

Will you like him now, could he be good enough?

While you lay in bed, tossing, turning, fuming damn near at Satoru Gojo’s audacity, sitting up finally, putting on Satoru’s favorite song, on that mixed CD you had been making him, before he disappeared. Your childhood room is the same as it always was, littered with photos of you and Satoru, your best friend that just disappeared, and came back a different person.

You touch a photo, one where he’s grinning so big with his cute little braces, holding up a science award, and you’re so overcome with emotion you have to hold back your tears, touching the polaroid gently. Was that boy in there somewhere, the boy you knew, the one who deserved the world - he seemingly got it of course.

Would he find you so boring? He hung out with celebrities, he walked runways, he’s clearly got a beautiful - batshit insane but- girl on his arm. Was it some pity, did he feel bad you were in a little bar? Your mind can’t handle it all, as you plop down in your childhood bed, mind racing.

Who was Satoru Gojo now?

Ah why'd I tear up when Satoru goes home? Next part we see just how coffee goes lol

taglist #1- @pinkyvomit @saitamaswifey @kachowness @vraiao @artbligh @psychoartiste @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @bsenpai @simp-for-wanderer @rjreins @emonaculate @myahfig4 @casua11ycrying @psycren @blushedcheri @ureuphoriasworld @frozenmallows @kanaojacksonofc @rcveriees @xlilycoco @yukimaniac @sypnasis @tokina @sharkubi @tztuoo @hyori2 @yesdere @gradmacoco @gamerhere @seikamuzu @xinsonyax @vvaoo @angie420 @ria54sworld @blue-musingss @mysticmyth @asimpinamillion @arabellasolstice @ilovebeansyay @notme000 @emochosoluvr @iv-vee @heh123321 @fushikamo @danilovesboba @spookyy-gracee @satorusleftnut @clqxuds @femaholicc

Animals - G.S.

Synopsis. Yes, your best friend is secretly an alpha. Yes, he acts like a fúcking anímal when he rúts. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alíve.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Gojo, rúts, best-friends-to-lóvers, creampíes, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, knots, MARATHON SÉX, overstím, knots, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pússy-spánking, héats tríggered, semi-public, matíng press, oraI (fem), slight bondagé, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 7.0k (uh-oh)

A/N. Nanami always gets the short end of the stick LMAO, anyway hope y’all have the loveliest week <3

“Satoru, you’re being strange.”

Granted, Gojo Satoru acting weird wasn’t anything new. 

Especially not when he’s two hours deep into the most droning meeting you’d bribed him into attending as of late - knee bouncing, fingers tapping, head turned towards that firmly shut door like he just wanted to escape. Needed to. 

Then again, even you found your attention waning. Finding whispering with your best friend much more interesting than whatever latest mission statistic Yaga had to present. 

“M’doing just peachy, sweetheart.” Gojo smiles - but it looks stilted, pained. And even through his blindfold, you already knew his snowy brows were furrowed. “Who’s the one not listening to ol’ man Yaga now?”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes down at his figure beside you - draped over the cool mahogany table as if he owned the place. “Well- you better not be faking sick to get out of this meeting. Again.”

He only hums, “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ h-head about it, m’kay?”

With a final, tired rub at your temples, you’re turning back to Nanami to ask for all the world where Yaga was on his fifty-page report now-

And then, it hits you.

Suddenly.

Something smells sweet.

Like candy - particularly that sugary, strawberry-flavored kind you’ve had to tell Gojo off on more than one occasion for eating too many of. Tilting your head just a bit, you think you could also catch hints of honey and pine, such a strange, hypnotic combination.

“S-Satoru…” your words come out in a syrupy gush, feeling your head whirl.

“Hm?”

And despite yourself, you’re taking in deep, heavy inhales of the air surrounding you. Hungry. Mouth salivating as that heady, perfumed whiff clouds up all your senses. “Do you- hah- what is- do you smell-”

“Ngh- no?” he’s cutting you off with a barely-audible groan, one you probably wouldn’t have even caught if your abilities weren’t so sharpened right now. Gojo’s movements seem sluggish, languid as if he was moving through molasses when he raises up one hand to massage the back of his neck.

You can only watch as his head droops down onto the long table with a wince. 

Strange. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost thought- 

No, there was no time to be entertaining wild conspiracies. Because at this very moment you’re too caught up flitting through the dates of all your previous heats in your mind. Urgently. 

Three weeks.

Your next heat wasn’t due for another three weeks. So, sure, you didn’t take your suppressants just yet but, that really didn’t matter, did it?

It wasn’t normal for jujutsu sorcerers to be anything other than a beta - and as an omega, you knew firsthand just how difficult it was to fight tooth and nail just to be able to sit at this table. 

Historically, any other faction of society would rather be caught dead than outed, and have their second gender be taken advantage of by the very curses you were supposed to exorcize. Forced to face the stigma of alphas and omegas being too “unstable” or “vulnerable” to be trusted with missions.

This was the very thing you’d been trying to avoid ever since you argued your way into studying at Jujutsu Tech - losing control. 

Especially now.

But god, you were burning up. It smelled so sexy.

And, taking a sweeping glance around the table of betas - at your fellow sorcerers, those grim elders, and your disheveled best friend - that left only you to explain the scent.

You were only thankful that their noses weren’t as powerful as yours. Clinging onto this as a saving grace, with a shaky gulp, you gently nudge Nanami on his side. “Hey- Ken?”

“Yes?” And maybe it was the heat - whatever this was - but Nanami’s deep baritone sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning in traitorously closer to his heated body. His jaw ticks, “Is something wrong? You look…”

“Satoru’s also-”

“So what?”

Without warning, one of his hands comes to splay out across your forehead. Just a mere touch has him sucking in a sharp gasp, “You feel warm, I think you have a fever. You can’t continue the meeting like this.” 

You shake your bleary head in protest. 

“I won’t let you.” Nanami’s voice hardens with a tone of finality, and yet, you still find yourself trying to whirl around to look at Gojo. Maybe for help, maybe for a distraction to escape when your colleague speaks again - this time directed at Yaga. “Principal Yaga, it seems my dear friend here is sick.” Circling an arm around your shoulders to pull you up from your seat and onto weak legs. “If you’ll please excuse us, I will escort-”

Nanami stills - everything stills. 

Everyone stills when his voice tapers off with a ragged grunt, and you feel his chest heave in unsteady breaths. So close now that you can mark the exact moment Nanami’s eyes widen, “Are you…”

Shit. 

Shit shit shit-

“Wait.” Yaga’s voice bellows reproachfully. “Is this- That smell-” But even he can’t find the words, slumping back down into his seat.

Truly, the scent was so saturated now, so primal that even the most stubborn of unmated betas were sneaking peeks at you. You bite your lips raw at another glossy gush from your already-heated cunt. It was so embarrassing - your heats have never acted like this before, let alone come three weeks early.

Sure, perhaps that one time on your very first day at Jujutsu Tech itself - which was embarrassing by itself. And, yet, your mind had never been clearer than it was right now. 

Eyes sliding over to a familiar, trembling mop of white hair - never been needier. 

Fuck, what was your delirious self thinking-

As if drawn by an invisible string, Nanami’s inching impossibly into your hot proximity, hazel eyes falling half-lidded when he takes in a deep whiff. Grumbling, “My love-” Another. And another. Nose almost grazing your pulse now, “-you’re in-”

Slam!

“Out.”

It’s a threat.

That was the first thought that slammed into you, and then the voice continues, slow, snarling like a predator on the edge of ripping something to shreds. “I won’t repeat myself.”

Before you finally understand, it’s a command.

There’s one strong hand around your front, pinning you against a sculpted chest. Something about it has your pulse booming in your ears, fingers clawing at that pale wrist at your shoulder. Yet, he doesn’t even flinch.

Nanami, however, reluctantly detaches his hands from your body, and you finally have enough strength to look towards the origin of the words. Only for your glassy gaze to meet with a towering Gojo Satoru standing at his full height - when did he even get up? 

Jaw clench, sharp canines bared, blindfold dangling haphazardly around his neck - ah, he looked like a man that crawled from hell and back simply to take you all along with him. 

With you at lucky number one. 

First in his line of sight. Close enough that you can finally smell him. 

Oh.

Oh. 

And you swear you saw his eyes tint with the faintest blue lightning when your own scent perks up. Boring into you for just a millisecond before narrowing his gaze down at a stupefied Nanami, cracking the kinks in his neck. “Unless ya wanna watch.” He bares the rest of the room with his flooring glare, “Unless all of you want to watch.”

It’s chaos. 

They understood - perhaps long before even you did. 

Chairs clatter, the desk trembles, and that safe haven of the door is swung open. That weezing council of elders are first to stumble over one another into the hallway, Yaga following shortly with a wordless sigh. 

Until the only ones left are you and him - and Nanami.

Blond brows raising, his eyes flit frantically between you and a possessive Gojo. Sputtering out, each word jagged, and dry as if they’re being wrenched from his chest. “What is the meaning of this- We- I thought you were a- a beta.” 

Everyone did, and Nanami was speaking what your mind couldn’t right now. 

Gojo Satoru always presented himself as a beta - never affected by your heats, never disappearing once every few months for his ruts as you remember Suguru did. He always seemed so normal - perhaps the one thing about him that was. Unaffected by the stupid little trials and tribulations of alphas and omegas in sorcery. 

But it was undeniable, he was an alpha. 

And taking a deep inhale of his saccharine sweet perfume - so overpowering - he might just be the strongest you’ve ever encountered. How fitting.

“You thought.” Gojo’s voice was clipped, rumbling with a low growl that sent electrifying shivers down to your very cunt. And his tone just makes Nanami jolt. “And I can’t right now so I- fuck-”

Gojo’s body wracks with a violent shudder, making him hunch over - with you in tow. His hot breath puffs out in feverish pants near your ear, abs clenching as another velvety wave of pheromones emit from him. 

You mewl when your body is jostled in his toned arms, nudging the very curve of your ass - tight uniform skirt hiking up just enough - so that you push in a slow drag against something rock-hard. Massive. Weeping out in a sticky damp spot that seeps into your skin. 

“Hah-” you’re gasping, face swirling to nose up the crook of his neck - where the candied scent was most prominent. “Toru–”

There’s a gasp - and it’s not from you this time. 

Both you and Gojo are snapping your dazed heads upwards at a frozen Nanami, his hand shooting to cover his nose. Eyes wild- “I-”

Before thinking better of it, it seems like Nanami opted to keep some part of his sanity as he abruptly turns on his heels without a second glance backwards. Marching robotically, the only moment he stops is once he’s at the doorway. One hand tugging on his suddenly too-tight pants, the other on the doorknob. Eyes still trained forwards when he calls out gruffly, “Don’t break the table, insurance doesn’t cover it.”

SLAM!

Finally alone.

Your vision swims - is the door even locked? Is this- God, you feel hot. So hot - too hot.

And Gojo’s burning up, arms wrapping around you so tight that you could feel the way his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He breathes out into your ear, “My pretty girl…”

“Oh sh-shit–” you’re whimpering, big fat tears welling up behind your eyes. And without wasting a second, as soon as it splatters hotly on your best friend’s skin, he licks a long, lazy stripe to lap at the hazy saltiness. Babbling away, “Feel so dizzy hngh- and you- you’re an alpha?”

Honestly, part of you still didn’t want to believe it.

But as soon as he husks out a gravelly moan, as soon as his tongue dips down a wet pathway to the scent gland on your neck - you already know you won’t be making it out of this alive. “Why did you hide it from me?”

“Mhm- fuck! m’sorry.” he grunts into your skin, slightly muffled. Nipping ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry m’sorry- had to- my sudden rut made my- hah, made my pretty omega go into heat, didn’t it?”

His soft palms glide down your trembly body, greedily kneading every dip and curve that comes his way. He’s lost. So, so lost. 

Plastering his lips down every inch of skin he could reach, that sweet scent sticking to you like a sloppy second skin. And you can barely even think when you feel his swollen dick just twitch behind you, a fresh wave of swelteringly hot precum sloshing right through your silken skirt.

You whimper when you’re rutting messily back and forth, and he drags a thick thumb to pry your spit-glossed lips open. “Aww, poor baby. Tell me- fuck tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

And all you can really give him right now is a circular swivel of your hips, which evidently wasn’t enough. 

Because Gojo’s furious tip only hardens, and he hisses with a slight tug up your skirt. Cold fingers dancing ravenously up the edge of your drenched panties, gliding the very rounded tip of his index slowly across your sopping slit. 

“Tha’s not enough.” he snickers, and suddenly you’re hit with another wave of emanating pheromones. Enough to make you just slobber a glistening coating all down his long digits. “Use your ah- w-words like a big girl now. Because when I start…” His teeth find your earlobe, and his fingers find themselves planting a dripping wet slap! across your puffed-up clit. Unwavering. Unapologetic. “I won’t be able to stop.”

“Please, Toru.” That cute little nickname makes him jump, makes him throw his head back with a low moan. Brows scrunching together as if pained. “Don’t want you to stop-”

Maybe you were going to say more - maybe you would’ve called him that nickname and driven him even crazier. 

But Gojo doesn’t wait to find out. 

In one, fluid motion he’s picking up your body into the easiest princess carry you two would’ve laughed at if this was one of those romcoms you watched together. Just splaying you out on your back across the cool table, he situates himself in the perfect position between your legs. 

Oh, how he loved this view. How he’s spent so many ruts just like this imagining this view.

“F-fuck- You have no idea how- how crazy it drove me.” rasping groans drag out from his throat, strained with every slow drag of his cock down the front of your now-see-through panties. “How wild-” You’re nearly screaming when his canines dig in to that soft spot underneath your ear. “-to pretend I didn’t know you smelled so hah- so fucking delicious.”

And then you feel him still - alert, ready.

Chest heaving, an almost chilling tone dipping into his words when he spits, “Except when you smell like him.”

Your jaw falls slack when the temperature in the room heats up another few heady degrees, and the sheer power of your two scents mixing together is almost maddening. 

“He- he? Toru, what do you-” you’re gasping out in tiny huffs, while he busies himself with biting and licking down your exposed neck. Enough to leave you smeared all over with marks. “Who- Kento?”

“Oh, sayin’ another man’s name when you’re with- fuck- me?” Gojo’s bucking powerfully into you, his body was pinning you down. Scorching, now. “Such a naughty omega- I should kill him for how he touched you.”

Truly, his alpha was fucking clawing at him to trek out of this room right now and finish off the job - but, no, you were too hypnotic. And Gojo Satoru, the strongest, was no match for you.

The wet thwack of his fingers once more kisses in a rude smack against your clit, making you squeal. Ringing across your thundering ears, he swears at that broken, blissful noise from you. “Fuckin’ oh, would ya let him see you like this, too? Let him touch you like th-this?”

And Gojo looked so starved, velvety blindfold tickling your chin when he leans in close. Lips ghosting your own - but not quite. You’re suddenly brought back to the very first thought you had - that this is about to be a bloodbath. 

“I wouldn’t–” you bite back in your honeyed tone, and you can feel your omega just purr in satisfaction. “N’ it’s not my fault that someone-”

Smack! Harder, sprinkled with tiny bolts of electricity.

“Correct.” 

It’s breathed out into your mouth - a quick, hedonistic peck. Gojo just taunting your sanity before he’s pulling away with a gruff string of profanity, like it hurt him just as much as it did to you. 

You feel your slick dribble down into a saturated puddle below you. And the mere sight of it makes Gojo just reel his hips deliriously forwards, grinding his massive bulge across your dripping cunt until you could see it soil a fountainy dark patch on his pants. 

“F-fuckin’-” his eyes roll to the back of his head at how hot you were. How pouring wet. Wrangling your quivering legs painfully stretched open, “-woman of my dreams.”

With two, thick fingers hooked over the hem of your skirt, it’s being torn off in an easy pull. Falling somewhere in a pile of impractical tatters onto the meeting room floor, along with your shirt.

And as soon as it’s off, Gojo’s only growing more feral. More hungry. 

He’s drooling from one corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t even notice at this point. Honestly, barely even realizing the burning pain when he falls to the floor on his knees. Clattering haphazardly, insatiably nosing up your jittery inner thighs. 

“Oh sweetheart- oh my pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl–” he’s breathing out, head lolling drunkenly against your legs. And Gojo gulps when he spreads your panties away with a wet glide of his thumb, just enough to see your messy hole winking up at him eagerly. All soaked and needy. “M’gonna have so much fun being yours.”

He kisses wetly through your panties - without warning, without even breathing. Just surging his pretty face into the heated crevice between your thighs, taste buds on his pinkish tongue grazing up the soaked fabric.

Like he was addicted.

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re mewling out, lower lip wobbly at every sultry swirl of Gojo’s tongue over your pussy lips, painting your messy hole in every mesh of slick and spit he could conjure up. “It feels too- hah–”

You were always so sensitive during your heats, every single one of your senses heightened to the max. So it made your mind all overwhelmingly melty inside to have his steaming hot mouth on your equally ravenous cunt. Hungry.

Yeah, he was addicted.

Dragging a few fingers in-between your glistening folds, scissoring them shamefully open to spit. Once. Twice. 

Some of it splatters strayly onto the start of your thighs, which Gojo glady licks up all over again to stream out a thick wad back onto your silt. Until your cunt was drooling translucent dredges of everything he has to give, he smears his messy thumb in easy rotations around your clit. Filthy. 

“So gorgeous- so good f’me.” Gojo titters, biting down teasingly on the very edge of your panties. And he can’t hide that fucked-out little groan when pulls it back, back, back to just snap! it meanly right on your cunt. “Fuck- you taste as s-sweet as you smell, mmm–”

You’re yelping when his long tongue draws a slow circle around the edge of that first ring of muscle, just barely pushing back against how your gummy walls are trying to hug him. To milk him for everything he has.

“S-such a tease-” you whine, fingers tangling into his cloudy white hair. Soft - the silken tresses smoothed over your palm, slotting between your digits when you pull his mouth roughly onto your pussy. “Jus’ want you on me- ngh!”

“Ohh ya can still t-talk easy, huh?” Gojo raises an amused brow from in-between your legs, that won’t be possible soon with how he’s going to have you. “Well then, don’t you dare beg me to go easy on you, girl.”

And he keeps the panties on - fuck, he keeps the panties on when mashing those ragged, rosy lips of his in a steamy make-out with your cunt. It’s as if he was breathing you in, so close that you could feel every clench of Gojo’s jaw, every grind of his chin into the very base of your pussy. 

“Sh-shitttt-” he spits, stray wisps of white covering his eyesight. Dragging you on his tongue through pure instinct. “Shit wait- ah you’re so fuckin’ so-”

Unable to even finish his sentences with that usually-sharp tongue of his. No, that tongue right now was too occupied with the steady, repetitive drag along your snug channel. Bullying into your sodden sensitive spots, thrusting back and forth back and forth back and-

And his fingers, oh those infamous fingers were straying back onto the sensitive nub of your clit. Drawing tight, tempestuous circles that have you keening at the dual stimulation, thighs stuttering to an embarrassed close. 

“Open.”

It’s just like before - and Gojo’s using that annoyingly baritone tone of his that hits you at your very core, that makes your omega snap open your legs for him.

Even you’re surprised at how pliant your body acts before your mind right now - and so is Gojo. though, his expression doesn’t show it, every bit of that feral animal that scared everyone out of this room not too long ago. 

“That’s it- that’s it–” he can’t hold back, hands glued to the globes of your ass to pin you still against his mouth. “Ha- so fuckin’ different when ya listen to me, so fucking sweet.” Breathing in deeply, “Were ya giving off this scent so Nanami could do this, too?” 

Thwack!

Another mocking slap against your clit - not enough to make you cry, but with just enough buzzing jujutsu to make your batting lashes teary - forces you to find your words. 

And fuck, Gojo swears there’s no sweeter music than the sound of your voice - especially when you’re moaning like that. 

Voice breaking into a whine, accompanied by a few raw clenches of your pussy around his furious tongue. “N-no fuck- don’t know-” your hips arch into the most perfect curve he’s ever seen. One that makes his mouth water, cock straining against his pants. “Toru- jus’ want you, wanna cum- wanna- want you so bad.”

Fuck - and who was he to not go along with each and every one of your pretty whims?

Pussydrunken already. He’d read about this - but he really had no clue how potent an omega in heat was, never having spent a rut with one. That little special occasion was always saved for you but, ah, that was a story for another time.

“M’gonna cum- hah- so- close-” 

Right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gorgeous you would look when you cum. How delicious - your sweetened scent raising up by a few notches, taking over his sentences. 

He feels his cock just throb at the mere thought.

Which is why Gojo’s pulling away with one final, sodden kiss on your pussy. You feel the curvaceous curl of his smirk against your cunt, and a deep, filthy inhale. 

“Nah.” he smiles a glistening smile up at you - grin glossed all over with a sheen of your sweet, sweet juices. And the rest of his face was almost-obscured with a curtain of his white bangs, but you still think you could peek the glow of his inhuman eyes through them. Powerful. “Don’ think you’re c-cumming anywhere other than on my knot first, pretty girl.”

And he’s so tall that Gojo’s blocking out the dim meeting room lights when he stands up - slow, smug, making you spend each passing second in such anticipation. 

Face expressionless - almost hypnotized - when he shrugs his shirt off. Lips parted into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded, heaving he slides his belt off almost lazily. 

It clatters! to the ground, and he’s sliding down his drenchingly wet boxers with it - leaving a gleaming trail of precum down the front of his toned pelvis. Letting his achy cock finally spring free, he hisses when it hits the too-cool air. 

And you do, too - though, for much different reasons. 

Because Gojo’s so unfairly big - fitting, for an alpha of his stature. Blushed the prettiest pink at his rotund head that matched his cheeks right now, gradiating down into creamy tufts of white at his thick base. Showing the starting of his knot swelling. It made you wonder whether he tasted as sweet as he smelled. So hard it looked painful, curving into a long, solid shaft that glides a wet smear across his washboard abs. It makes your omega just preen, rabid to have him inside you right now now now-

“Heh, impatient lil’ thing, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” Gojo huffs out in a heady bout of laughter. “Can practically feel yer omega ngh- calling out to me, is this what you want?”

You claw ferally at the milky display of his back, branding him in your own way. “Yes- please-” 

A sudden rip! makes you realize you still had your panties on - up until a few seconds ago, at least. Jostling him ever-so-slightly closer, you mewl when the rounded tip of his angry cock nudges against your pussy lips. Melding into a slight kiss that already makes him stream steaming hot ropes of precum.

And if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed the way the light above flicker, fizzing with electricity just as much as you were right now. 

“Heheh- oh y-you made me like this, ya realize?” he chuckles out - but his voice didn’t show even a hint of humor. It’s like he was out of control, out of rationality with each languid drag in-between your folds. Babbling, “You threw me into- fuck fuck fuck this is all- your-”

Honestly, Gojo’s so utterly shocked he managed to grit even half that sentence out. 

Because every sloppy second has him grinding upwards in the tiniest of ruts into your sung cunt, tiny, mindless grinds that make a low ah! ah! ah! rip from his throat. 

“Open that mouth f’me, sweetness-”

As soon as you do, you’re feeling a thick, glossy stream of saliva slosh onto your lolling tongue. Mouth wrenched shut until you swallow - and you do. Happily. Filthily. 

That’s enough to make Gojo lose it. 

And he’s plunging headfirst into your toasty insides, shoving back that tiny bit of resistance before your elastic walls are milking him so well. Greedily swallowing up every one of his generous inches, and it only seemed like more was to come.

“Oh shit- ohhh sh-shit-” His eyes are rolling to the very back of his head, mouth hanging open, that tiny trickle of drool splatters onto your skin. 

“T-Toruu—” your cunt was addictive, and so were those moans of yours. Craning your neck upwards, “Kiss me, please.”

For a second, he’s leaning in - making it seem like he was about to smear that firmly placed gloss all over his lips onto yours. But Gojo only sneaks a peck at the corner of your mouth, then the other - and then one on the tip of your nose. 

“I will I will-” he’s musing, giggles bursting from his lips. “Once we’ve mated, can’t get too greedy at once now? Can I?”

But oh how his actions spoke otherwise, because Gojo’s powerful hips absolutely refused to stop until he was well and fully buried into the hot depths of your cunt. Sheathing himself in all your soppingly wet walls, the sheer tightness was enough for him to throw his head back, heavy balls squeezing. In and out in and out. 

“Ohhh fuck-” Two hands of his roughly attach themselves to your hips, pitching up your needy whines when he drools down your pussy even more thoroughly. “You sure do make it f-fuckin’ hard though-”

You whine when your ass hits against something bulging and hot, whirling those dazed eyes of yours down at the intrusion. 

“Shit-” you’re gasping, eyes widening. And the sheer awe in your eyes is enough to make him grow, blood pumping to every thick inch of his cock until he was expanding even girthier, molding your pliant walls to his size. “That’s your knot- I-I-”

“I-I-I-” Gojo mocks, in a voice octaves higher than usual. Fucking the rest of that sentence with a harsh roll of his hips, knocking bruisingly at your cervix. “C’mon now ah- tell me- you can t-tell me anything.” Kissing softly at your ear lobe, zaps of jujutsu making you jump. “M’your best friend, right?”

How ironic.

All you can gift him in response is a few soft whimpers that only make him wilder.

“Fuck!” you’re keening when another one of his slams leave you gasping for air, feeling like he was clashing into your very womb. Glissading a deep, wet glide of his fat, curved tip across your spongy cervix, his breath hitches at the slight recoil. “I want it-” 

Your words make him almost falter with his ruthless pace, and you take it upon yourself to just drag him down by his muscled shoulders. Until he was hunching over you, abs flexing against your front, “I want your hah- knot in m-”

And you can’t even finish the sentence - you don’t know if you want to.

Because just that syrupy jumble of words is enough to make Gojo Satoru snap. 

To cut you off with a rough growl, teeth bared at you, in a split-second he has you limp legs thrown over his shoulder. Biceps flexing in such a mouth-watering way when he makes them lock at the ankle, bending down, down, down into the meanest little mating press your joints would allow. 

The change in angle has you scrambling - has him scrambling to crash his leaky head into your swollen g-spot. Hitting that bulging bullseye with no regrets - over. And over. And over and over and-

“Oh, marry me sweetheart.” he’s panting into your mouth. His pulsing girth rummaging your insides so good, dragging every ridge and thumping vein on his shaft against your sweet spots. He was so big that you felt like your syrupy cunt had already forgotten what it felt like without him pounding into you. Suckling wetly at the corner of your lips, “Marry me marry me- oh, fuck- gonna give you m-my knot. Don’ think I could go on hah- l-living without ya, pretty.”

He was feral - eyes glowing a blazing blue, sparks of lightning bolting down his milky skin. And you swear with each speeding cadence of his, the lights flickered on and off. 

Every slippery smack of his tight, cum-filled balls has you seeing stars, yearning for the additional burning stretch of being plugged by his knot. 

You’re throwing your arms over his neck, reeling him in like he was your prey, though his hips were devouring you. “W-we’re not even dating and you want me t-to be your hngh-”

“-wife!” He kisses every inch of your face, down your neck, over that soft scent gland of yours - now so overstimulating his senses with your sweet scent that he’s almost forgotten what his own smelled like. Buzzes of electricity skimming down your skin with each touch. He’s groaning, “Be my wife- please- fuck, I need you to be my wife.” Planting an almost-french kiss on that one sweet spot. Once. twice. “M-my mate- sh-shit-”

And you already knew Gojo was close with the way his pretty eyes are almost fluttering shut, the way his hefty balls clamp. Twitching in desperation, his thickened base pumps in even deeper - harder. As if he was trying to rut every single inch into your clingy depths. 

Every single inch.

“Mhm–” you moan, feeling the staggering stretch of his even hotter cock shape your walls. “I wanna- wanna be your-”

You don’t even bother finishing your sentence - and neither does Gojo let you.

Because it only takes a few more sloppy jackhammers before he’s finally sinking his taut knot into you. The stretch is so insane you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, being plugged so suddenly full. 

And then you’re hurtling headfirst into your high - toes curling, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, your spine bowing so sluttily into his. And Gojo-

Oh, Gojo had his mouth sagging open the moment he felt his massive knot intrude against your silken sweet walls, stretching that snug channel around all of him. And he wishes he had the willpower to look down at the heavenly sight, he wishes he could do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your precious scent gland as he cums and cums and cums. 

The lights burst, shards deflecting off the limitless he’d coated over the both of you. 

Teeth breaking skin, metal tasting on his tongue, scents tangling together into one now.

You do your best to bite him back on his heady neck, breaking through Gojo’s milky skin to reveal a set of pretty pink indents.

Finally yours. Finally his. 

“O-oh, pretty girl–” he hiccups, voice cracking. Hips not moving even the tiniest second of momentum while he stuffs your tight pussy full of his potent seed. “My wife- my mate.”

And Gojo almost bawls when the tight lock of his knot prevents him from plunging into you as deeply and thoroughly as he wanted to right now. Sobbing down big fat tears that splatter! against your lips while he kisses your mind dizzy.

You could feel the syrupy slosh of his cum inside you with each one of his dragged-out grinds, milking your orgasm for as long as possible. Unmoving. Unapologetic in how he was spitting out such voluminous loads of milky white seed that overfilled you. 

“Shit- so much-” you’re whining, still clinging to him. And you don’t think he even hears you right now, mind blanking. “I feel so full, Toru-”

But you didn’t have to babble out those words for him to know, somehow, he just knew. Knew every single thing about you, but couldn’t dredge up the words to respond.

Too pussydrunken to do anything but bite you on your scent gland all over, he kisses a wet trail up to your lips, “Now you- really hafta m-marry me heh.”

Bang! 

Gojo’s fist comes crashing down on the rickety table - it’s too much for him.

Those ringing squelches and the way you were sucking out every single drop of his cum makes his sensitive shaft twitch. Tears blimping up into his eyes again, more and more velvety ribbons ooze out. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife- my mate-”

It’s just about all he can say - like a mantra. Over and over against your lips, until the peaks of your pleasure turn into mere tingles, until Gojo’s own knot is softening down. Slightly.

Just enough that he can pull out-

“Toru, what-”

“Shhh, pretty girl-” He’s kissing your puffed-up clit with another spank from his trembly fingers, and then an actual kiss. Mouth slotting over the mess he’s made below. Grazing all over like a creamy gloss. Filthy. “Rut’s just started.”

His ravenous tongue drags out your overstimulated high, and you’re clinging onto a lock of his snowy hair for dear life. 

“Please-” you beg, voice shot. You don’t even know what you were begging for, but god was Gojo Satoru happy to let himself be used. “Please please please, Toru-”

Oh, his fingers tighten on your thighs - imprinting neat patterns of crescents. Animalistic, in how Gojo just drags your twitchy body forwards.

His eyes were drooping shut, gaze crazed - frantic where he looked you right in the eyes from down below. Head craning to ram his stretchy tongue even deeper, quirking up deftly like he’s wanting to bruise his taste buds along your walls. 

Slurping at and collecting the creamy mess on his tongue - only to spit it back into your sloppy hole. Messy. 

Even with the dark, lightless room - with only those stray sparks of power to accompany you two - such loud squelches echo across his own ears. And just by the noise Gojo could tell how wet you were - as if you weren’t drooling over the lower half of his face, up to his cheekbones, already. 

Sticking to your inner thighs in an obscene drip! drip! drip!

It’s so shameful and you love it. 

And you love that you’re so cockdrunken that you aren’t even sure when you’re cumming - if you’re cumming. Whether those sudden crashes of pleasure were because of your nth orgasm tonight, or because of the way Gojo kisses you with another thwack!

Adrenaline and electricity coursing through your veins, ears thundering with your rapid pulse. Oh god, you never knew a heat could feel this good - this maddening. 

You moan, and he’s eagerly lapping up every sweet bead of slick you have to offer, like a man that hasn’t had an ounce of water in weeks. Brows furrowed, jaw sagging open-

“Shit shit shit-” he’s rasping out, and the very slide of his fingers across your skin sends waves of powerful jujutsu - somehow bunching at your clit just right. “M’cumming- m- m’still cumming fuck- won’t- stop-”

Just as soon as your orgasm is ending, Gojo’s is just starting. Like he’d been holding back on this from the moment he’d started eating out your overspilling pussy - happily. 

And exactly on time, too, because you barely even have the time to catch your breath before Gojo’s standing on his two unsteady feet. Just splitting you open on all of his red, raw inches - uncaring for your little mewls and those tears. 

Because you were sucking him up madly. 

Spearheading his swollen cock into you like he was trying to fuck another orgasm out of you. His strokes are long, harsh, showing off all the years of strength he built up boasting the title of the strongest. 

And this hastily put-together mating press has his cum just overspilling out of you by now, dribbling down in wet globs that made you wonder how much more he could fill you up. It seeps in a white circle underneath your ass, slicking you back and forth along the wood at each harsh ram. 

Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Made me this- hngh- this way, y’know?” he spits into your mouth - followed by a slurred string of swears. Every time his heftily smacking balls clench, you could feel the table creak under pressure. “Sat next to me with that fucking skirt- smelling so fucking- ngh- good- do you even know how delicious ya are?”

You can’t answer - because he’s back to squeezing in his staggering knot into you. Sparks exploding out from the corner of his scrunched-up eyes, forehead knocking into yours.

Gojo kisses you like he couldn’t get enough, letting you taste all the sin from just before. 

“Three weeks away, huh?” That accusatory little inflection in his words isn’t lost on you, only growing stronger and stronger as his staccato grows sloppier. “Have your- hah- heat in three weeks and fuck- I could just- smell it on you-”

It’s incredible. Sliding your frenzied bodies across on another, stinging with skin-on-skin and how your gooey walls constricted around him.

“Showing off in that scent and that skirt-” His eyes are almost bulging out of his head now, hips stuttering like just the very thought of that pile of fabric at the corner of the room drove him mad. “-fuck that skirt- always fuckin’ hated it. Hated how Nanami loves hngh- it. Made me lose fucking control a-and you know what?”

One of his hands curls around your throat now, the other taking hold of your left - kissing your ring finger pointedly. “I’ll do it all over again if it means I’d get to have ya like this, my mate.”

And just then he’s coating your melty insides in a creamy sheen, that overworked divot right at the end of his dick was firmly pressed up against your g-spot. Plugging you with his knot, and you swear you could see a little inflation forming where he was filling you to your limits. 

Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop until his body practically forced him.

Gojo’s biting down hard exactly over those deep indents on your scent glands when his gushing spurts of seed turn into almost-painful blanks. 

Over and over, he’s cumming nothing. 

“L-love you, Toru-” you’re babbling out, reeling him in to peck the corners of his smirking mouth. 

Utterly fucked out of your mind enough that you don’t even register the loud boom! from somewhere in the distant grounds of Jujutsu Tech. Barely even care that the overpriced meeting table is now sagging on one side, just about in splinters. 

“Aww, m-my c-cockdrunk baby–” he titters shakily into your glossed-pout. “Love you, too, always have always- will-”  Patting the bulge on your stomach, before kissing you gently, “Ever since I th-threw ya into heat the ngh- first time ya met me.”

Oh. 

And later, you’ll learn that that almost-deafening boom was the generator for Jujutsu Tech, mysteriously bursting after a sudden spike in atomic pressure in the surrounding area. You’ll find out that every piece of furniture in the surrounding buildings had moved about six inches in your direction, and that the now-ruined table was an irreplaceable heirloom.

But for now, all you register is soft. 

Warm. 

With a gasp you realize you’re in a bedroom - Gojo’s bedroom.

“Did- did you teleport-”

“Mhm-” he pants, and in the dim lighting you could spot his leering grin. Satisfied. Pussydrunken. And you could feel his knot swell up hotly, halfway through to its previous size. 

You sputter, trying so desperately to find the words. Difficult, when Gojo still had you wrapped around his thick cock, all the way up to his fat, drenched base. Swiveling his cock in slow, sultry grinds for how much he couldn’t ram exactly how he wanted to right now. “Wh-why didn’t you do this before–?”

“Because-” he licks over his mating mark on you. “-wanted to show off what animals we were.” His grin grows wider, as does his tired cock. And that dangling blindfold around his neck ends up around your wrists, tying you up pliantly for him. “What animals we will be.”

---

Right now, all Nanami can think about is you you you- Yet,he doesn’t expect to see you for about the next week. Or, at least, that’s the hopeful side of him - knowing Gojo, and the state he’d left the meeting room in, he won’t see you again for a month. 

Possibly not walking.

Perhaps, that’s for the best. Looking down at his swollen, throbbing cock - one fist wrapped around its thick base, the other around his shaky phone, he clicks on that familiar app. 

Shit, his rut is near. Now, actually. 

Nanami sighs, it’s hard pretending not to be animals.

A/N. Was soooo giggling writing about how the table was some heirloom.

Plagiarism not authorized.

Junior year rolls around and ohh has highschoolsweetheart!Eren changed.

You hear him before you see him—his voice cutting through the morning hum of students catching up after the summer break. It’s familiar, unmistakable, and yet, when you turn around, your breath catches in your throat.

Oh.

This was not the Eren Yeager you left behind in sophomore year.

Gone was the lanky boy who used to trip over his own feet during gym class, the one who wore those wrinkled short-sleeved button-downs with the same rotation of black skinny jeans and scuffed Converse. The Eren standing before you now was… different.

Taller. Broader. The summer had done something to him—his arms, his shoulders, his entire build had filled out in a way that made your brain short-circuit for a moment. His hair, once perpetually messy but in a boyish kind of way, had grown out just enough to curl at the ends. He still had that same wild energy, the same excitement in his eyes as he grinned at you, but there was something undeniably new about him. And he was pretty. Not that he wasn’t always attractive—he was, and you’d never denied it to yourself. But this? This was unfair.

“y/n!!” He reaches you in a few easy strides, completely oblivious to the way your brain is currently buffering. Before you can even react, he’s throwing an arm around your shoulders like it’s nothing, pulling you in for one of those classic Yeager side hugs, all warm and familiar and way too casual for the internal meltdown you’re having.

“Dude, I haven’t seen you all summer!” he exclaims, ruffling your hair in that annoying way he always does, like you’re still kids and he doesn’t look like he walked straight out of a teenage coming-of-age movie. “Why’d you ignore my texts? I was about to file a missing person report.”

You blink. He’s looking at you like he hasn’t changed at all, like he isn’t standing there all tall and golden, like he isn’t suddenly one of the hottest guys in school. And you? You’re still standing there like an idiot, trying to piece together a response.

“I— I was busy,” you manage to say, and it’s only half a lie. You had been busy, but you’d also needed space. Space to sort out the mess of feelings that being best friends with Eren Yeager had turned into over the years.

Eren, being Eren, doesn’t notice your internal crisis. “Pfft, busy. You mean ghosting me?” he teases, nudging your side. “I should’ve just shown up at your house.”

You scoff, regaining some of your composure as you roll your eyes. “Like my mom wouldn’t have loved that. She’s still convinced we’re secretly dating.”

Eren barks out a laugh, shaking his head as he tosses it back. “She’s been saying that since middle school. At this point, I think she’s just manifesting.”

Your heart lurches at his words, but you shove the feeling down. This is Eren. Your best friend. The same guy who used to perform Justin Bieber songs in the middle of the quad for you. He might look different now, but he’s still him. Even if the way people are starting to stare at him—at you two together—is making your stomach twist in a way you’re not quite ready to admit.

The first day of junior year had barely started, and yet, you already felt like you were walking through some alternate reality. Eren was still draped over you, arm slung around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world, completely oblivious to the way people were looking. Correction: the way people were looking at him. It was impossible to ignore. You could hear the whispers as you walked down the hallway together, the way heads turned when he passed.

You roll your eyes, scoffing as you nudge him off you, but the warmth of his arm lingers on your shoulder. “Yeah, well, she’s gonna have to give it up eventually. We’re not dating.” You don't know if you say it to convince yourself that there is no possibility it would become reality.

Eren grins like a bad little kid, his eyes glinting in that Eren Yeager way that usually spells trouble. “Not yet.”

Your heart does this annoying little skip in your chest, but you quickly shove him with more force this time, scowling to hide the smile that forms against your own will. “Shut up.”

He just laughs, dodging your next attack like the menace he is. “Damn, I missed you,” he grins, and there’s something about the way he says it—casual, easy, genuine—that makes your stomach flip. You hate how easily he gets under your skin. How he annoyingly burrowed his way into your heart.

Before you can retaliate, a group of girls passes by, whispering not-so-subtly behind their hands. You recognize some of them—volleyball girls, cheerleaders, a couple of girls from your English class—but they barely spare you a glance. Their eyes are all locked on Eren. And he knows it. The worst part? You know he knows it, too.

One of them, a tall blonde with perfectly curled hair, flashes him a bright smile. “Hey, Eren,” she says, twirling a strand around her finger like it's a damn high school movie. You're usually a girl's girl, but right now you were shooting daggers at her.

Eren, to his credit, doesn’t look phased. He just tilts his head, grinning in that annoying way that makes your blood boil. “Hey.”

That’s it. Hey. And yet, the girl giggles, and you want to die. It’s like some cruel joke. Last year, nobody would have given him a second glance. He was your Eren—goofy, loud, a little dorky, always getting himself into trouble. Now? Now he’s on the varsity football team, his arms are looking a little too good in that fitted black tee, and suddenly he’s the guy every girl is looking at.

You hate it. You don’t even know why you hate it, but you do.

Eren barely acknowledges them, turning back to you like nothing happened. “Anyway,” he says, slinging an arm over your shoulder again like it’s nothing, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. “What class you got first?”

You shake yourself out of whatever weird haze you’re in, clearing your throat. “Uh—math. Mr. Moblit.” Your eyes scan over the salmon pink piece of paper that held your class schedule, and Eren leans in just a little too close to read it.

He groans, dramatically throwing his head back. “Ugh, lucky. I got stuck with Mr. Shadis.”

You snicker. “That sucks.” You can't help but smile when you see the same characteristics from Eren. Even if he did look fine ass hell, oh so different from last year, he still acted the same.

“I know, right?” He sighs, dropping his head onto your shoulder in fake despair. “If I fail, just know it’s because Shadis has it out for me.”

“You fail because you never pay attention,” you remind him. You've had plenty of classes with Eren, with him always sitting next to you. He would be doing anything but pay attention.

“Okay, but, like, who even uses calculus in real life?” Eren squints his eyes, and you can feel every little movement he does as his head rests on your shoulder.

You roll your eyes, shoving him off you for the second time, ignoring the way your skin tingles where his head was resting. “Come on, dummy. We’re gonna be late.”

He groans again but follows after you anyway, falling into step beside you like always. Like nothing’s changed. Except everything has changed. And you’re starting to realize you have no idea what to do about it.

Lunch rolls around, and you find yourself dragging your feet through the cafeteria, still processing the weirdness of the morning. You’re not sure what to make of Eren’s sudden glow-up—or the way your chest does this annoying little flutter every time he looks at you like nothing’s changed. All the effort of trying to get over your little crush on Eren was wiped clean, the boy really had a grip on your heart now.

You end up at your usual lunch table, the one you share with Ymir and Historia, Sasha too but she was going to the culinary club's welcome party because duh, Sasha isn't going to miss out on extra free food. The two of them are already sitting, bickering about something stupid, but the moment you drop into the seat next to them, it’s like they both sense something’s off. They can feel the energy radiating off of you, the look on your face when something is bothering you. Ymir eyes you with a raised brow, and Historia’s gaze flickers to the door, where Eren is walking in, looking effortlessly cool, chatting with Armin as they make their way toward your table.

“Oh, boy,” Ymir mutters under her breath. “You’ve got that look on your face. What’s going on with you and Yeager?”

"How do you know it's something between me and Eren?" You raise an eyebrow, a little frustrated that she knows you so well.

"It's always about Yeager," Ymir and Historia say in unison, giving you that look of obviousness.

You roll your eyes. “It’s nothing. We’re fine.” A deep sigh still escapes your lips as you open the bottle of apple juice your lunch came with.

“Mmmhmm,” Ymir hums skeptically, but she doesn’t push it. Historia, on the other hand, flashes you a concerned smile. Her brows perch up with sympathy.

“You sure? You’ve been acting… different.” Her voice is soft, almost too knowing, but it’s enough to make you squirm.

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you say, the words coming out a little sharper than you intended. But it’s not like they’re wrong. You have been acting weird. And it’s all because of Eren, damn that boy.

Your thoughts are cut short as Eren plops down next to you, his familiar arm slinging around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Yo! What’s up, guys?” His voice is as loud and cheerful as always, but there’s something in the way his eyes linger on you that makes your stomach twist. Ymir raises an eyebrow, but Eren doesn’t seem to notice. Historia’s gaze flits between you two, but she stays quiet, focusing on her lunch.

“Hey, y/n,” Eren says, his voice a little softer now, and you feel your heart race. “You doing okay?” Your eyes flicker to him, seeing his pretty face in a concerned look as he stares at the side of your internally panicked face. It's enough to make your insides ache, enough to make your heart beat a thousand times faster.

“Yeah, just… tired,” you reply, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal, even though your mind is anything but calm.

“You sure?” His expression softens, and for a second, it’s like the world fades out, leaving just the two of you. His hand, warm against your back, feels like it’s burning right through your shirt. “You don’t look fine.”

You can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “I’m fine, really.”

Eren nods but doesn’t look convinced. He leans in a little, lowering his voice so only you can hear, “If you say so. Just know, if you need anything, I’ve got your back, yeah?”

Your heart stutters at his words, the genuine concern in his voice tugging at something deep inside you. But the moment is interrupted by the loud cackle of a voice from across the table.

“You hear that, Historia?” Ymir teases, her grin far too knowing. “Eren’s looking out for y/n. Makes me wonder if you’ve got competition, huh?”

Eren laughs, unbothered, and flicks Ymir’s ear. “Shut up, Ymir. You know it’s just—” He looks at you for a moment, his grin faltering, then shrugs it off. “Just what we do. We're best friends. Nothing weird.”

You feel your heart drop a little, but you brush it off. “Right. Nothing weird.” It's almost as if you're trying to reassure yourself, which, let's be honest, you really were trying to. Trying to convince yourself that it's all in your head.

But the way Eren’s smiling at you, like he knows more than he’s letting on, makes your pulse race. His eyes linger a little too long, and you wonder if he’s trying to figure something out, too. The tension is palpable, thick enough that even Ymir and Historia seem to sense it. They share a glance, but neither of them says anything. Instead, Ymir kicks you under the table—hard enough to make you wince.

“Aye, stop thinking too much,” Ymir's expression says, clearly reading you like an open book. She doesn't even have to say anything for you to understand what she's trying to say “Just enjoy the moment. Eren’s not going anywhere.” And for the first time today, you almost believe her.

The conversation drifts as you try to settle back into the easy rhythm of lunch. But the moment is short lived. The clatter of trays and the loud chatter of students fills the air, and before you can catch your breath, a new wave of noise arrives.

Reiner, with his usual cocky grin, leads the pack of jocks toward your table. His broad frame and confident swagger draw attention the way Eren’s used to, but this time, you can’t help but notice the way the girls at nearby tables watch Reiner too. He’s got that easy, good-looking charm, but there's something about Eren that just hits different, even now, when the jocks are slowly taking over the cafeteria’s social pecking order.

“Yo, Yeager!” Reiner calls, leaning over the back of your seat, making you jump in surprise. “You ditching us for the weirdos?”

Eren’s arm drops from your shoulders as he shifts his attention to Reiner, but not without a small, teasing grin. “If you’re calling them weirdos, I think you’ve got the wrong table, man.”

A few of the other guys laugh, though it’s more because it’s Eren, and he’s got that goofy, unpredictable humor. The girls now huddled around your table all stand up a little straighter, their eyes darting toward Eren, and you feel a sudden, sharp pang of frustration deep in your chest. You try to ignore it, to keep the casual mask in place, but something’s different now. The subtle tension between Eren and you—it’s like it’s palpable to everyone but the two of you.

Reiner, not one to let Eren off easy, takes a seat beside him, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Come on, man, we’ve got practice in an hour. I’m dragging you back, and we’re gonna talk strategy, not... whatever this is.” His eyes flick over to you, and you swear you catch a hint of amusement in them. It’s like he knows something you don’t.

Eren glances back at you, his expression a little unsure, like he’s debating whether to stay or go. For a brief moment, his eyes soften, but then, in typical Eren fashion, he shrugs and grins, looking more at ease than you feel. A part of you hopes he'll choose to stay, just to reassure you that things really didn't change.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go. But only because you’re begging.” He stands up, brushing his hands off as if he’s wiping away the conversation, like he doesn’t even see the way your heart drops when he stands a little too far away from you now.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words get stuck. All that leaves your mouth is a disappointed huff of a breath. Eren turns back toward you, like he’s about to say something, but then his attention shifts to the group of jocks calling him over.

“Later, y/n!” he calls, throwing a casual wave over his shoulder. “Don’t miss me too much, alright?”

You’re left frozen, your hand still halfway raised as you force a smile, though it feels more like a grimace. Reiner slaps Eren’s back in that overly friendly way he always does, and Eren just laughs, falling into step with him as they make their way to the other side of the cafeteria. You hate the way your stomach twists watching them go. It’s like they’re speaking an entirely different language—one you’re not part of. The table around you is quieter now. Historia looks at you, her expression sympathetic, but Ymir—well, she looks way too smug for your liking.

“Wanna talk about it?” Ymir teases, but it’s not unkind.

You sigh, dropping your gaze to your lunch. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Uh huh,” Ymir replies, that knowing smirk still lingering on her lips. “I’m pretty sure Eren’s just trying to keep his cool in front of the jocks. You’ve seen the way he’s been around you lately. He likes you, trust me.”

You frown, not sure how to respond. Eren might be acting like nothing’s changed, but everything has changed. And the worst part? You’re not sure if he even knows it yet.

“Don’t worry,” Historia sympathetically adds, her tone reassuring. “He’ll figure it out eventually. You’ll figure it out.”

You give a noncommittal hum, not sure if you're ready to figure anything out just yet. But as you glance across the room, watching Eren laugh with Reiner and the others, you can't shake the feeling that something’s coming. Something big. Some type of shift. You spend the rest of lunch pushing food around your tray, pretending not to notice the way your eyes keep flickering toward the jock table.

Eren looks good—annoyingly, frustratingly good. He’s leaned back in his chair, laughing at something Jean said, that lazy grin plastered across his face like he doesn’t have a single care in the world. His long fingers drum absentmindedly against the table, and when one of the cheerleaders—Annie’s friend Hitch, you think—leans in to whisper something to him, your stomach twists.

You snap your gaze away, cursing yourself. Why are you even watching? You’re not his girlfriend. You’re his best friend. And best friends do not sit there like jealous exes just because other girls are realizing what you’ve known for years—Eren Yeager is stupidly, effortlessly attractive.

“You’re making it too obvious.” Ymir’s voice is flat and teasing. You don’t even have to look at her to know she’s smirking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter, shoving a bite of food into your mouth just to have something to do.

“Mm. Right. And I’m straight.” Ymir leans on her fist, watching you with open amusement. Historia sighs, nudging her in the ribs before giving you a softer look.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Historia offers, “he hasn’t actually looked at her once.”

Your eyes dart up before you can stop yourself, and— Historia’s right. Eren’s nodding along to something Reiner’s saying, but his gaze keeps drifting. He’s scanning the cafeteria, like he’s looking for something. Or someone. And then, just like that, his eyes find yours. For a second, time stutters.

Eren’s lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting to catch you staring, and for a fleeting moment, something flickers across his face. Something unsure. Something vulnerable. But then Reiner nudges him—too hard, probably on purpose—and Eren snaps out of it, laughing as he shoves him back. And just like that, the moment is gone. You exhale sharply, turning away. You hate this. The push and pull, the way he makes you feel like maybe—just maybe—there’s something more, only to act like nothing’s changed the next second. Maybe nothing has changed. Maybe the only thing different is you.

“You should talk to him,” Historia says gently.

You scoff, picking at your food. “And say what? ‘Hey, Eren, just wondering if you’ve realized you’re hot yet and if that means you’re too good for me now?’”

Ymir cackles, hands drumming on the lunch table as she childishly kicks her feet. “I mean, I would pay to see you say that to his face.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “This is a nightmare. It's never been this complicated with Eren before.” It had always been complicated, but not this complicated.

Historia opens her mouth to say something else, but before she can, the cafeteria doors swing open, and the familiar screech of a whistle pierces the air.

“Football team! Practice starts now!” Coach Smith stands at the entrance, arms crossed, his stoic expression already promising death if they don’t get to moving. The jock table groans, but they all start standing, grabbing their trays. Eren stretches as he gets up, his shirt riding up just enough to show a hint of skin, and you swear you hear one of the volleyball girls sigh dreamily. You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts.

Eren turns, catching your expression, and grins. “What’s that look for?”

You school your face into something neutral, a deadpan almost. “Nothing. Just wondering if you’ll survive an entire practice without getting distracted by your fan club.”

He blinks, then laughs—like really laughs, loud and unfiltered. “Pfft, fan club? Yeah, right.”

You open your mouth, ready to argue, but then you stop. Because—he’s serious. He really doesn’t see it. All the stares, the whispers, the way girls—entire groups of them—are looking at him like he hung the damn moon. He doesn’t even notice. Eren’s still just Eren, in his own head. You should be relieved. Maybe you are. But mostly, you just feel confused and overwhelmed.

“Well, try not to get tackled into the ground,” you say instead, grabbing your drink to take a sip.

Eren grins, nudging you lightly as he starts to walk away. “Aw, you worried about me, y/n?”

The drink nearly chokes you, the cooing tone of his voice making you feel uneasy and bashful. “Not even a little.”

He just laughs, throwing one last lazy wave over his shoulder before jogging after Reiner and the rest of the team. And you? You watch him go, stomach twisting, hating the way his absence already feels like a weight pressing down on your chest.

The late afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows over the football field. The team is mid-drill, running play after play under the sharp bark of Coach Smith. Eren is breathless, sweat slicking his skin, but his mind isn’t really in it. Not fully, anyway.

Because you’re sitting on the bleachers, and you’re laughing at something Historia just said, and it’s distracting as hell. His gaze keeps flickering toward the bleachers, toward where you’re sitting with your friends. You look relaxed, leaning back with one knee pulled up. He can’t hear a word from this far, but that doesn’t matter. He knows your expressions by heart—every little eye roll, every laugh, the way your lips purse when you’re pretending to be annoyed but aren’t really.

He’s staring again.

“Yeager! Focus!” The loud shout of Coach Smith jolts him out of his trance, but it’s too late. Whooosh.

Eren barely ducks in time to avoid a pass he wasn’t paying attention to. Jean groans in exasperation, throwing his head back and smacking his hands on his pads. “Dude, wake up! What the hell are you even looking at?”

Eren shakes his head quickly, clearing his throat. “Nothing,” he lies, trying to mask the way his heartbeat kicks up. Grabbing the football that he failed to catch, slackly tossing it back to Jean.

Jean, of course, is already following his gaze, his eyes landing exactly where Eren doesn’t want them to. The smirk that stretches across Jean’s face is almost unbearable. “Right. Nothing.”

Eren scowls, shoving Jean as he jogs past. But before he can settle back into formation, something shifts near the bleachers—movement that immediately snags his attention. Someone’s walking up to you. Eren’s brows furrow as he squints. The guy is tall, lanky, his bright red hair messy in a way that seems purposefully unkempt. He’s wearing a ripped band tee, chains dangling from his jeans, and—oh, great. Floch Forster.

The guy moves with a swagger that makes Eren’s teeth grind. Ripped jeans, faded punk band tee, chains dangling from his belt loops—he looks like he just crawled out of a basement concert. Floch has always been a talker, a surprisingly smooth one at that, and judging by the way he leans in, he’s in full flirt mode. Eren watches, growing tenser by the second. He expects you to roll your eyes, wave him off, something. But you don’t. You tilt your head slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at your lips. Why aren’t you moving away? Eren’s jaw tightens. Then Floch takes another step closer. That’s it.

Eren doesn’t even realize his feet are moving until Jean grabs his jersey. “Dude, where are you—?”

“I’ll be back,” Eren mutters, ripping himself free and jogging toward the bleachers before anyone can stop him.

You hadn’t expected company, least of all from Floch Forster. Historia had just nudged you, muttering something about incoming trouble, and before you could even react, there he was—Florian “Floch” Forster, king of misplaced confidence, leaning against the railing like he had all the time in the world. You don’t hate Floch. You don’t like him, either, but he’s harmless enough. He’s always been a little too flirty, but in a way that’s more for show than anything else.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his signature gaudy smirk already in place. “If it isn’t the prettiest girl in the bleachers.”

You exhale through your nose. “Oh, god.”

Floch grins, clearly unfazed. “What? That’s a genuine compliment. You’re breaking my heart here, y/n.” His tone is cocky, almost annoying.

You tilt your head, unimpressed. “Do you even have one?” A grin forms on your face, it felt kind of good to banter and maybe knock him down a peg.

“Oof.” He presses a dramatic hand to his chest, cheesing way too hard. “Harsh. But hey, I like a challenge. Y’know, if you ever wanna find out, I could show you—”

“You couldn’t,” you cut in. It's a little abrupt, shocks Historia a bit at the snappiness, but it just comes out.

Floch laughs, plopping down beside you with zero hesitation. “Alright, alright, I’ll cut to the chase.” He leans back on his palms, eyes flicking toward the football field before settling back on you. “How long are you gonna keep pretending your best friend isn’t in love with you?”

You choke on your drink, sitting up straighter now as you sputter a cough. “Excuse me?”

Floch just raises a brow, looking entirely too smug for your liking. “Come on, y/n. The guy stares at you like you hung the goddamn stars. It’s actually painful to watch.”

Your face burns, but you force a scoff. “You’re delusional.”

Floch shakes his head, watching your reaction closely. “Am I? He’s been in love with you since, what, forever? But the dude’s an idiot, so I get why you’re waiting. He’s probably still convinced you’re out of his league.” Out of his league?

Something about that statement makes your stomach clench. That’s not true. Right? Floch doesn’t miss the flicker of doubt in your eyes. His smirk stretches a little wider, sensing an opening.

“But y’know,” he continues, shifting closer, voice dropping just slightly, “if he’s not gonna make a move, maybe you should let someone else have a shot.”

Your lips part, caught off guard. “What?”

Floch leans in just enough for the air between you to thin, to start smelling like his axe cologne. “I’m just saying,” he murmurs. “Maybe you should let someone who actually sees you take you out sometime.”

Oh, you think, heartbeat stuttering slightly. Although your mind was still half focused on what he said about Eren. Before you can formulate a response, something shifts in the air—sharp and tense.

“Oh, hell no.”

The voice is unmistakable. Your head snaps up just in time to see Eren—sweaty, breathless, and looking pissed—hopping the railing in one effortless motion.

Floch doesn’t move. He just smirks. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Eren doesn’t respond, his fists clenching at his sides. His green eyes—usually filled with something bright, warm—are now dark with irritation.

“What the hell are you doing here, Forster?”

Floch tilts his head, all mock innocence. “Relax, man. Just having a friendly conversation.”

Eren’s jaw ticks. “Yeah? Well, have it somewhere else.”

The tension is thick, electric with an almost uncomfortable tension. You glance between them, unsure if you should intervene. Maybe you should, but all you can do is look up at Eren. The way some strands of hair stick to his forehead, the way his thick brows are furrowed. The way he almost seems territorial over you.

Floch exhales, shaking his head like this is all some kind of joke. He shifts his gaze back to you. “Really? You’re just gonna let him chase me off like that?”

You hesitate. And that hesitation is all Floch needs.

He incredulously chuckles under his breath, standing up and dusting himself off. “Man,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

Eren’s jaw tightens. “See what?”

Floch flashes one last cynical smirk before turning to leave. “Nothing, man. Nothing at all.”

And just like that, he’s gone, his chains jingling as he strolls down the metal steps like he hadn’t just stirred up a storm. The silence he leaves behind is suffocating.

You exhale, crossing your arms as you finally shake out of your daze. “That was so unnecessary.”

Eren scoffs, finally looking at you. “He’s a dick.”

You narrow your eyes. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

Eren looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a split second, something unreadable flickers behind his eyes. His lips part like he wants to say something—something important—but instead, he just shakes his head.

“Forget it.”

And with that, he turns, hopping back over the railing and jogging toward the field without a second glance. But you know better. It wasn’t nothing. And now, you don’t know what to do about it.

Eren doesn’t look at you for the rest of practice. Not once. It’s infuriating. From your spot on the bleachers, you watch as he throws himself back into drills like he’s got something to prove, pushing harder than necessary, muscles taut with tension. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed in concentration—but you know him. You know when he’s actually focused and when he’s just using the game as an excuse to run from something. You also know what—or who—he’s running from.

You exhale, frustrated. It’s not like you wanted Floch’s attention. Hell, you would’ve been fine never speaking to him again. But Eren had stormed over like he owned you, like it was his problem to handle, and now he won’t even look at you? It was all too confusing.

Eren misses a catch from Bertholdt, taking off his helmet and throwing it to the ground with an audible 'fuck!' that echoed around the football field. Running a hand through his sweat drenched hair, the frustration in his face is super evident.

Historia, sitting beside you, hums in amusement. “That was deliciously messy,” she murmurs, sipping from her water bottle. "The whole situation. Possessive Eren, the little bicker, everything."

“It’s annoying.” A scoff leaves your lips and you can't help but stare at Eren with a confused and irritated expression.

“Oh, it’s both.”

Ymir snickers, her sunglass covered eyes looking at the way Eren is still pouting. “Dumbass is jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “He is not jealous.”

Ymir glances at you with an expression so patronizing you want to shove her off the bleachers. “Right. He just lost his entire mind over Floch flirting with you for no reason at all.”

You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Because—yeah. The thing is, Eren isn’t the jealous type. He’s never been possessive over you before, never given you any reason to think he cared about who talked to you. He’s always been the annoying one—flirting playfully, ruffling your hair, teasing you about your nonexistent love life like it was all some big joke. And maybe it was. Maybe he was just messing around, just playing into the dynamic you’d always had. But today felt different. And that scared you more than anything.

You wait for him by the locker room. It’s a stupid idea. You know it’s a stupid idea. You could’ve gone home, could’ve ignored the way your pulse has been pounding ever since practice ended, ever since he stormed off like you did something wrong. You could’ve pretended it didn’t bother you—the way he looked right through you for the rest of practice, the way his body went stiff when you so much as moved in his direction, the way he threw himself into drills like he was trying to hit something that wasn’t there.

But you’re still here. Waiting.

The late afternoon sun is sinking lower in the sky, drenching everything in a honey-gold glow. It should be pretty, peaceful even, but the knot in your stomach makes it hard to appreciate. The air is thick, humid from the lingering heat of the day, and your skin feels sticky, uncomfortable. The locker room door swings open in intervals, groups of players filtering out, laughing, talking about parties, weekend plans, things you can’t bring yourself to care about.

Then—finally—he steps out. Eren.

You feel his presence before you even see him, your body going still, your heart stuttering in your chest. He looks good. Unfairly so. His hoodie is loose over his shoulders, damp hair falling into his face, a few strands curling at the ends. His skin is still flushed from exertion, the glow of the sunset catching on the sharp lines of his jaw, the hollow of his throat where the collar of his hoodie has slipped down just enough. He’s effortlessly attractive, in a way that makes your stomach twist with something you don’t want to name.

He notices you immediately. Stops in his tracks. Something flickers across his face—something unreadable—but then it’s gone, replaced by a carefully neutral expression, like he wasn’t just throwing a damn fit over you and Floch thirty minutes ago.

Your arms cross tightly over your chest. “You ran off.”

Eren exhales, looking past you, jaw tight and thick brows furrowed. “Didn’t run.” His voice is flat, clipped. You know him too well to miss the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his shoulders are tense even though he’s trying to look casual.

You take a step closer. “Eren.”

His jaw ticks. “What?”

That’s all he says—short, sharp, like a blade cutting through the space between you. It makes irritation flare in your chest, a spark igniting beneath your ribs. He’s the one who lost his mind over nothing. He’s the one who got weird. And now he’s acting like you’re the problem?

You grit your teeth. “Are you seriously mad at me?”

His head snaps toward you so fast it nearly startles you. “Mad at you?” He lets out a dry, humorless scoff, running a hand through his hair, making the damp strands even messier. “I’m not—Jesus, y/n. I just don’t get why you were even entertaining that guy.”

Your stomach drops. The word entertaining rubs you the wrong way, makes your irritation flare into something hotter. “I wasn’t entertaining anyone,” you snap, voice tight.

Eren exhales sharply, shifting his weight like he’s trying to hold something back. “He was all over you.” yeah, he was dragging it.

Your lips press together. “And?”

His eyes darken, flickering with something upsetting, something raw. “And I didn’t like it.”

It’s barely above a whisper, but it slams into you like a physical force. Your breath catches. The words linger between you, heavy, charged with something neither of you can name but both of you can feel. Your heartbeat is erratic, hammering against your ribs. You’re staring at him, searching his face for answers, for clarity, for anything—but he’s already looking away, already forcing his expression into something unreadable, like he didn’t just say something that made your entire world shift on its axis.

He knows. You know he knows. And that terrifies both of you.

He inhales sharply, like he’s about to say something else—but then he stops himself. A muscle in his jaw twitches before he shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“No,” you say quickly, stepping forward, voice urgent, desperate. “Eren—”

But he’s already turning away. Already walking. And this time, you don’t try to stop him. Because the truth is—You’re just as scared as he is.

You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at the space he left behind. Minutes? Seconds? It feels longer than it probably is, but the weight in your chest doesn’t go away. You don’t get it. You’ve had arguments with Eren before. Dumb ones. Stupid ones. He’s annoyed you a million times, and you’ve annoyed him right back. But this? This hurts in a way you don’t know how to process.

Because it felt real. Because it felt like something cracked open between you—something undeniable. And because deep down, in the part of you that you’ve tried to shove away for years, you know the truth: You don’t want him to be okay with other guys flirting with you. You don’t want him to treat you the same way he treats every other girl. And if today proved anything—if the way he reacted, the way he looked at you was any sign—maybe he doesn’t want that either. Maybe he never did.

Eren’s hands are clenched into fists as he walks, barely registering the conversations around him. His heart is still pounding. His body is itching with leftover adrenaline, but it has nothing to do with practice. What the hell was that? His own words play back in his mind, over and over. "I didn’t like it." What the fuck was he thinking, saying that out loud?

He’s been reckless before. He’s flirted with you for years—always playfully, always in a way that he could pass off as a joke. But that? That wasn’t a joke. That was raw, unfiltered, stupid.

Because he can’t have you. Because you don’t see him that way. Because even if you did, he’s not good enough for you. You’re y/n. You’re his best friend. The girl who somehow makes everything in his life feel a little easier, a little lighter, just by being around. The girl he’s been in love with since he was old enough to understand what love is.

And you deserve someone better. Someone who isn’t just figuring out his place in the world. Someone who isn’t Eren Yeager—impulsive, reckless, always getting himself into trouble.

But even knowing that—Even knowing he should stop—He still turns around, just for a second, just to look back. Just to see if you’re still standing there. And when he sees you—arms crossed, head slightly bowed, looking like you’re caught up in your own spiral—It fucking kills him. Because if he wasn’t such a coward, he’d tell you the truth. That he doesn’t just like you. He’s yours. He’s always been yours. But it’s too late now. And it’s all his fault.

fury | e.yeager

eren yeager x fem!reader

!!: SMUT, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), pet names like (bitch, whore, slut, princess, baby), degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, slight reader x jean kirstein, eren’s so fucking mean (sorry not sorry), making each other jealous, rough sex, dirty talk, jealous eren RAAAAWR.

Eren didn’t even need to say anything and yet you knew he was fucking pissed.

You almost stopped what you were doing due to his intense stare from half-way across the busy room—but, you held out. Knowing this whole debacle had a high risk, yet high reward. If it worked in your favour, that is.

You were currently situated in the sweaty, loud house party your friend had thrown—tipsy as fuck and feeling disgustingly cheeky. Your cheeks were flushed red as you pushed your bottom half back against the male behind you. You knew your boyfriend was watching you mindlessly dance with your ex-boyfriend, Jean Kirstein, who you knew Eren despised.

You were only grinding against the tall, mullet-headed male to piss your boyfriend off for starting a meaningless fight in the car before the party. You were petty, Eren knew this, but he never knew you’d take it this far.

Jean’s hands rest against your liquid hips as you swayed deliciously to the beat, your body on fire as Eren bore holes into Jean’s hands against your soft skin.

“Someone doesn’t look to happy you’re with me, huh?”

Jean’s voice snapped your attention away from Eren’s dark, hooded eyes to his familiar voice. You knew exactly what he meant as you swallowed thickly.

“He can sulk all he wants, I don’t care.” You lied—knowing you did care what he thought as you wouldn’t be with Jean if you didn’t.

Jean chuckles breathily as he runs his hands up to your waist and back down again, choosing to not reply as you continue to dance with him.

You knew you had gotten to Eren but until he approached you, you weren’t gonna stop. However, you knew Eren was stubborn as shit, so if it took you all night to make him give in, then so be it.

“Looks like the score board is one nil now.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you follow Jean’s eyes as he laughs evilly, watching something intently. However, your stomach drops when your eyes fall upon Jean’s entertainment.

Eren, leaning up against the wall, not bothering to watch your childish acts any longer, standing infuriatingly close to a girl whom he smirked down at as she whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

You could kill him.

Eren only turned back to you as the girl littered kisses against his tattooed neck, smirking like a fucking asshole at you.

Jean laughs lightly against your ear, whispering delicately into it, “Well, now that our audience is back, let’s put on a show, hm?”

Jean half expected you to just continue dancing with him to piss Eren off further, but you knew that wouldn’t faze him anymore.

So, when you turned around to face your ex-boyfriend and pulled his neck down to smush your lips together in a feverish kiss—both boys were taken aback. Eren twitched angrily as he shoved the girl nibbling at his neck off him, huffing loudly in rage as he watched you shove your tongue down your exes throat.

Before you could even get a proper taste of Jean, you were ripped away from the kiss and dragged through the bustling crowd. You could’ve laughed at the sheer grip Eren had around your wrist as he dragged you through the house and into a deserted room, slamming the door behind him.

“You think you’re fucking funny, huh?” He spat, the angriest you’d ever seen him in your life. “Think you’re fucking cute?”

“N-no, Eren—“

His body flew to yours in lightning speed as he pushed your body against the wall, hands forcing your own against the cold brick, gripping them in place roughly.

“Had an awful lot to say earlier, didn’t you? Where’s that fucking bitch attitude gone? Jean kissed it all out of you?” He growled, his dark gaze glaring down at you.

Words failed at you as your jaw fell slack at the sheer fury that laced his words, his voice low and indignant due to your actions. Your heart rate picked up so fast you thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest at the thought of what he was gonna do to you.

“Speak, bitch.”

His words stung as you whimpered slightly, “I-I’m sorry, baby, I swear.” The sweet nickname you slipped in doing nothing but pissing him off further.

“No, you’re fucking not,” He snapped, slamming his fist next to your head, his anger sending shockwaves of excitement to your core, “God, when did I get with such a fucking whore?”

The disgustingly degrading nickname should’ve offended you, but, your pearly white teeth couldn’t help but sink down into your pink lips as you rubbed your legs together to get some sort of sweet relief.

Eren noticed your antics, pushing his knee between your leg, forcing you to stop. This only ripped a needy whine from your throat which you instantly regretted as you met his eyes.

Uh, oh.

He dragged you from the wall and pushed you roughly onto the plush of the bed, as he ripped his t-shirt from his body, then slotted himself between your spread legs.

“You fucking disgust me,” He spat, his hands coming down to attack your breasts in your dress, tugging at your nipples roughly as you whined. “You’re nothing but a fucking slut—good only for making me cum and whoring around, aren’t you?”

His hands ripped at your clothes like his life depended on it—tossing them aside as he stared menacingly down at your naked frame. He wasted no time in undoing his belt and pushing his jeans to the floor.

“Get on your knees.”

You practically threw yourself to the floor as you kneeled in front of him, staring up at him through your lashes as he glared down at you, nothing but anger and disgust in his expression as he pulled his achingly hard cock from his boxers. His tip dribbled pre-cum as it bobbed in front of your face.

Eren didn’t ask your permission, not that he needed to, before forcing your mouth open and shoving all eight inches down your throat. You gagged and spluttered around him as the abruptness of his actions took you by surprise. Tears welled up in your eyes as he didn’t stop to let you adjust to his size, only continuing to slide his heavy cock across your tongue.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” He growled, his hand nestled in your hair, pulling at the hair so hard you thought he’d tugged some out as you whined against him. “Don’t resist me, baby, you know this is what you deserve.”

Your nails clawed at his thighs as he thrust his hips feverishly against your mouth, balls slapping your chin as his pace never faltered. Tears fell quickly down your flushed cheeks as he abused your throat, putting your gag reflex to use as his tip smacked against your uvula.

“Eren, please!” You begged, as he pulled you off him briefly as you caught your breath, spit and tears covering your face as you heaved for breath.

“What? You think I’d fuck you nice and slowly after your behaviour earlier? I’m not Jean, the weak, vanilla piece of shit.” He spat, laughing darkly, “You wanna act like a slut, you get treated like one.”

He forced you back down onto his cock with a loud, gargled whine from you as fucked himself faster down your throat. He grunted lowly in pleasure as he planted a harsh slap to your cheek, forcing more tears from your eyes.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum down that stupid fucking throat if you carry on gaggin’ on me like that.”

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, moaning on him as you provided yourself some sort of action as he fucked your throat mercilessly.

Eren didn’t like that.

He kicked your knees apart angrily, “Don’t you fucking dare.” He snarled, pulling his cock from your mouth as you whined desperately.

Eren dragged you up to your feet by your hair, shoving you back on the bed harshly as he followed you. You barely had time to think about what was going on before he forced your legs apart and planted his hot tongue against your sex.

You cried out, your hand flying to his messy bun, threading your fingers through his hair as he sucked your clit frenetically, groaning against your pussy. The rumble of his moans against your throbbing clit had you climbing towards your orgasm quicker than expected.

“Can’t even let me cum because you just want to yourself, you selfish bitch.” Eren snapped, pulling his mouth from your hot core, spitting on your pussy lewdly, and planting a rough slap to your aching clit, eliciting a loud, scratchy whine from your abused throat.

“Eren, please!” You cried as you felt him slip two long fingers inside your soaking wet hole, back arching off the bed as he pumped his fingers in and out of you as he lapped at your clit. Goddamn did that man know how to please you.

“‘M gonna cum!” You wailed, eyes squeezing shut as you could nearly taste your orgasm, Eren continuing to suck your clit like a thirsty man in the desert.

Just as your coil almost snapped in your tummy, your pussy felt awfully empty as Eren ripped his mouth and fingers from you just as you were about to cum. You didn’t even hide your annoyance as you burst into tears, wailing loudly as your pleasure faded away as he ripped it from you.

“E-Eren, please! Please—hiccup, please I need it. I’m so sorry, Rennie, please, please make me cum, please!” You begged, hands flailing at him, attempting to pull his stiff body down towards you as you sobbed into his shoulder, gripping onto his shoulders, nails piercing the skin.

“Jesus Christ, you’re pathetic.” Eren breathed evilly, shoving you off him, your body bouncing off the bed, your tits jiggling with every movement that had Eren’s cock twitching. “You don’t fucking deserve it, okay? I gotta punish you somehow, hm? You did this to yourself.”

“B-But, that girl!” You fought back, feeling anger bubbling in your chest as the reality of the situation hit you, “Wasn’t just me.”

“She came up to me—you willing went out of your way to find that asshole and stick your slutty tongue down his throat.” Eren bit back, pushing your legs up, folding you in half.

He leant down to spit on your pussy once more, catching some of the slick on his cock as he nudged your entrance, jerking the lubricant over his aching boner. You whined loudly as he pushed his tip inside you, knowing the second he prodded the sweet spot inside you, you’d soon build your orgasm back up again.

“If you so much as even think about cumming, I’ll stop and never fuck you again, and I fucking mean it.”

His threat played with your heart strings—feeling awfully sorry for yourself as you threw your head back in irritation, crying out loudly. Eren’s hand flew to your neck as he pushed himself fully inside you, again, not letting you adjust to his length, revelling in the way you wailed in wanton at his size.

Eren’s pace was evil.

You’d never been fucked like this before. Your legs practically behind your head, his large hand choking your neck, cutting off your airflow, and his cock drilling into you at such a speed you thought you were going to pass out.

You tried not to enjoy the way he was treating you—but, you secretly had never been more turned on in your entire life. Your pussy wetter than it’d ever been, evidently as Eren was cursing himself mentally at how incredible you felt—but, he wasn’t about to praise you right now.

“‘Ren, p-please!” You gasped out, nails carving up his back as he fucked you up, revelling in the way you whined his nickname loudly every time.

“Gonna cum so fuckin’ hard.” He warned you, his voice hoarse as his eyes rolled back, “Open your fucking mouth.”

You did as he asked as his pace quickened as he chased his orgasm, groaning and grunting against your leg. He pulled out quickly and forced his dick down your throat once more, crying out in pleasure as he lolled his head back.

-

Jean furrowed his eyebrows as he felt two tiny fingers tap his shoulder, ordering him to turn around.

He felt even more confused at the sight of you in front of him—eyes red and tired, cheeks stayed in tears with a red handprint on display on one, hair a total mess and your neck littered in bruises and another large handprint around the circumference of the front of your neck. Behind you, resided your smug boyfriend, smirking blissfully at your ex-boyfriend.

“What the fuck is this, Yeager?” Jean spat, feeling suddenly a bit threatened by the presence of your boyfriend.

“Open up, princess.”

Eren’s words confused Jean as he looked down at you. But, they soon made sense as you lolled your tongue out for Jean to see, secretly loving the way his jaw fell slack at the pool of cum resting on the pink muscle.

Jean’s eyes shot open in shock as he watched as you peered up at him so innocently as some of Eren’s cum rolled off your tongue and onto the floor.

“Wanna kiss my girlfriend again, Kirstein?”

this is for you @jaegsnicotine 🤗

ode to a situationship — otoya eita

PART 1 - the first & second times

WC - 1.6k

SYN - No love story ever began with, “Once upon a one-night-stand.”

CW - [18+!] afab!reader but no gendered terms are used, reader and Otoya are both implied to be a little promiscuous, dubcon (only because of alcohol, both parties enthusiastically consent), alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), light anal play, spit fetish

SERIES MASTERLIST — NEXT

the first time

You both still smell like the club: sweat, the faint bite of cigarettes, and a mix of your go-to fragrance and his. It mingles in the air like your tongues in each other’s mouths. Becomes acquainted like his palms with the soft skin beneath your skirt.

The two of you were quick about it, spurred on by a splash of alcohol and an overflow of attraction. He was the ideal ratio of chill to shameless flirt, and you had fuck-me eyes and a pretty mouth. It was a perfect alignment of intentions.

There’s not much talking, just heavy breaths and the sticky sweet sound of lips and tongues in the darkness of your apartment. You’re wrapped up in the feel of each other, all eager and greedy and hot. He blindly backs you into a wall corner and you gasp. “Shit, sorry,” he breathes, cradling the back of your head in apology, “Bedroom?”

You know he’s going to fuck you good by the way he looks when he’s climbing onto the edge of your bed and pulling his shirt over his head. By the way he emerges from the cotton and has a dark, hungry playfulness in his eyes. He’s a good kisser (even if it is messy in the way drunken one-night-stands often are) and he has the confidence to hike one of your legs up high and roll his hips into you. Once, twice, again, again as he licks into your mouth and along the side of your neck. Chasing the heat and friction, reveling in your unabashed moaning.

He knows what he’s doing. You can tell by his demeanor that he’s done it plenty of times. He asks you how you want it then gives it to you like someone who knew how to give it to you from the start.

In return, you voice all your needs without a hint of shyness. With the confidence of someone who’s as experienced as he is. You’re nasty about it, too. A little demanding. (Fuck me. Harder. Touch me, right here. Like that— oh my god. Hear how wet you made me? Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop.) It makes him lose his mind, just a little bit.

After you’re both left panting and satisfied, the fantasy wringed from your bodies and the condom tied off and thrown out, you begin the careful dance of getting him the fuck out of your apartment and he falls into step with you. Another unspoken understanding between you, that you’re on the same page.

As you’re walking him to the door he holds his hand out for your phone and inserts his contact information (you’re grateful that he enters his name because you don’t entirely remember it) then immediately calls himself. “That was fun,” he says with a hint of a smile, “I’ll text you.”

You don’t expect to hear from him ever again.

the second time

You hear from him a week later, to your surprise.

It’s surprising not only because he bothered to text you at all, but because he does it so soon. It’s also not the typical middle-of-the-night text. It’s like 5pm, the sun barely dipping into the center of the sky.

You’re sober now, and more than a little grateful that he’s still good-looking. Very good-looking. Even better looking in the warm light of dusk, shirtless and hovered over you as he rubs your pussy through your shorts.

He’s taking his time exploring you — far different from the first time you fucked, which was all raw tension and release. Every bit of you is hot and primed by the time he pulls your shorts to the side and dips his finger in.

“Already so wet,” he notes, playful in that flat way of his. You make a comment about how he’s been teasing you, which he ignores in favor of teasing you some more. His fingers explore where you’re wettest, getting all coated while avoiding your clit long enough to make your hips cant up, then he brings them to his mouth to taste.

He knows exactly what he’s doing; this move always works. But, to his surprise, you don’t become bashful at all. You don’t avert your eyes or call it embarrassing. Instead, your entire expression darkens. The sight of him savoring the taste of you acts like a flame to kindling, only emboldening you further.

Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you guide his fingers to your lips next. You hold his gaze, take them deep and suck. He can feel the back of your throat, the tip of your tongue, the dull skim of teeth. So warm and slippery around his fingers. Otoya breaks eye contact to watch your lips drag around them, and his jaw goes a little slack at the sight.

There’s a sort of inherent game being played in the early days of fucking someone new — one you enjoy above all else. It’s a playful exchange of power, a push and pull, a gentle testing of boundaries in search of the things that drive the other crazy.

A love for fucking is what you’d say you and Otoya have in common, but really it’s this. Playing this game, this exploratory back-and-forth as you’re trying to get the one-up on each other. That one, decisive move has given you the advantage in this game. And that makes both of you very excited.

Still, Otoya keeps his cool. Remains patient. He rubs your clit and kisses your neck and chest until you’re tangling your hand up in his hair. Sucks on the sensitive skin of your stomach and thighs until you’re opening your legs wide for him to settle between.

“Can I eat you out?” He asks, punctuating with another messy kiss to your inner thigh. “I’ll make it good for you.”

Implying that, first and foremost, it’s going to be good for him. You realize this with a warm rush of arousal.

You respond by shimmying out of your shorts, giving him a nice view of your pussy between your closed thighs as you fold your knees up and pull them off, then opening wide for him again. Glistening wet, and on full display.

His patience leaves him in one deep, heavy breath.

He uses his whole mouth, all warm and wet and rhythmic, a shameless make out session with your cunt that surprises you as much as it melts you down to the bone. It’s a slippery mess in no time, him drooling generously all over you and you leaking more arousal in return. He’s really enjoying this, you think, like he could do nothing but this and still leave satisfied.

And he’s good at it. Really fucking good.

Otoya massages your clit with his tongue, closes his lips around it to swirl and suck lightly, then starts the process over again. Methodical, practiced. All while he watches you, gauging your reactions with lidded eyes. What he’s learned is that you like grinding yourself on his flattened tongue, and you love watching him spit on it. He wants to know what else you like, find out what else makes your body respond like that. Experimentally, he dips down low and licks all the way back up, pushes your legs back into the mattress then dips down even lower— your eyes roll back.

Bingo.

“You like a tongue in your ass?”

You smile lazily down at him. “Is that a crime?”

“No,” his teeth graze lightly over the space between your thigh and the fat of your ass, a testament to how hungry he is for it, “‘s hot as fuck.”

You breathe out a curse as you watch him collect saliva in his mouth and spit it down onto you. It’s warm and slippery when it hits your pussy, followed by the sensation of liquid dripping low. He catches it with his tongue. You shudder.

He’s forward about eating your ass in a way that makes your resolve crumble. It’s the kind of thing that a lot of men pretend to be into, but aren’t actually nasty enough to go through with. Their desire doesn’t run deep enough to get a little dirty. But this guy — this nonchalant pretty boy you happened to take home from the club once — has his face buried between your legs like it’s the most honest thing he can do.

Running your hands through his hair, you gently grind yourself against his tongue – feel it dip past the tightness of your hole. It’s too much, hearing him groan and watching his pretty green eyes roll up. Every part of you is pulled so taut it’s aching.

“Please,” you whine in spite of yourself, dragging the word out pathetically.

“Please what?” There’s just enough smugness in his voice to make your stomach twist with need.

“Need your mouth back on my clit. And your fingers inside me. Please, Otoya.”

His face comes back into view. The lower half is glistening, messy. He runs a finger down your slit, turns his palm up and pushes in, then promptly adds another. You’re so wet there’s no resistance. You’re so wound-up you could cry.

He lowers his face back down, wrapping his free arm around your thigh to pull you close. So close you can feel his hot breath caress right where you need him. His fingers aren’t particularly thick, but they’re long and skilled enough to induce that pleasurable full feeling. Watching intently, he pumps them steadily deeper until your whole body is arching and flexing with tension.

He makes you wait just long enough to hear you breathe in, readying another whine. Then just before he gives you his tongue again, he tells you, inflated ego making his eyes sharp and his voice teasing:

“When you cum, call me Eita.”

SATOSUGU X READER FIC RECS // mdni!

getting caught - @/nanaslutt

two for one - @/madamechrissy

good girls go to heaven - @/cumironi

threes a crowd - @/gojonanami

porn stars - @/webism

yakuza fiancé - @/gojonanami

study sessions - @/storusangel

government hooker!? - @/screampied

raspberry leaves - @/sunmoonjune

eiffel tower - @/nanaslutt

eiffel tower pt2 - @/nanaslutt

pervs - @/madamechrissy

double stuffed - @/peachedtv

twice the trouble - @/satoruhour

cold ice popsicle! - @/cumironi

roach - @/obsesssedblerd

good grief, suguru! - @/ohimsummer

come rest your bones next to me - @/twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

spoiled little girlfriend - @/cumironi

one, two, three (it’s not only you and me) - @/justrustandstardust

home - @/delulustateofmind

rivalry - @/nanaslutt

I DONT OWN ANY OF THESE FICS!! // CREDS TO THE WRITERS!! <3

playing for both of us

Karasu and Otoya know they’re sharing you way before you know. It’s just a matter of slowly acclimating you to it.

wc — 1k

tags — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fem reader, threesome, cucking kink, penetration, hand job (not from reader), title borrowed from Challengers lol, I'm stuck on bllk sandwiches

Karasu’s not a jealous man. Sometimes he’ll casually bring Yukimiya up while he’s buried in you just to see you squirm. It makes him laugh, his mouth buried against your neck as he feeds you slow, languorous strokes, his hips rolling with a gentle need. But mostly he’s doing it as a joke just to watch you fluster. 

Otoya’s different. He comes as an inevitability of dating Karasu. It’s real. From the very beginning of your relationship, he’s so touchy and handsy with you that it feels wrong. You feel so ashamed when people ask if you’re dating just to look shocked when Otoya cuts in that “No, she’s Karasu’s girl.” It feels like cheating except Karasu never seems upset by the way Otoya’s all over you. In fact, he seems to encourage it. 

Otoya almost always third wheels when you’re out together. It’s a safety thing, Karasu says, like having two bodyguards. He feels more comfortable leaving you alone when you’re out if he knows you’re with his best friend. Otoya will protect you if he’s not there. 

But who’s protecting you from Otoya? 

When he’s drunk, his already few inhibitions go out the window. The back of your neck burns with awareness as he grinds against you from behind, his head thrown back, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat as his hands circle your waist. They’re far lower than they should be. No one in this club would be able to tell that you’re dating his best friend with the way he’s all over you. 

It’s not that you’re just putting up with him, although you do like that it gives Karasu peace of mind to pass you off to him. It’s something about the way he hands you off with this air of easy trust that makes your stomach plummet in a pleasurable way, feeling so guilty for feeling so good. The way Otoya laughs when Karasu asks him to “babysit our girlfriend” makes you dizzy. He’s joking, but the sound of ‘our’ rings in your ears like a gong. 

Karasu returns, smiling at the two of you, watching as his best friend’s wandering hands feel you up. His hands are basically covering your tits, touching and squeezing with abandon while his thigh finds its way between your legs. It makes you feel like you’re the crazy one for caring that your boyfriend’s best friend is groping you on the public dance floor, but it doesn’t stop you from grinding down on the firm muscle brushing against your cunt while Karasu watches. 

The more you let him get away with, the more emboldened Otoya gets. When you’re in the kitchen together, he’ll bend you over the counter in the joking way boys do and pretend to hump your ass, his hips pumping once or twice as you yelp in surprise. Karasu looks up from the living room table and just laughs. He thinks the way you react to his best friend is so funny, goading Otoya on as he tries his best to get under your skin. 

You think they’re just being immature until you catch Karasu jerking Otoya off to the thought of you.

He’s sleeping over again. You told them you were going to bed, but you couldn’t go to sleep knowing they were hanging out without you. On tiptoe, you creep down the stairs and into the hallway, hoping you can sneak into the room and fall asleep on the bed without them noticing. 

Instead of gaming, which you thought they were doing, Karasu’s sitting next to Otoya, lazily jerking him off. Otoya’s pajama pants are dragged down his hips to give Karasu access to him. He drags his fist up and down Otoya’s length slowly as he whines, bucking his hips up in the chair he’s sitting in. 

“Please,” Otoya whimpers, but instead of Karasu’s name, it’s yours falling from his lips. Karasu chuckles and pins him back down as Otoya’s hips jump. He can't control his moans, hiccuping and soft sobbing into his ear.

“You’re so needy, baby,” Karasu says quietly. Otoya mumbles something incoherent. He’s nodding furiously. Karasu presses a soft kiss against his temple, so tender it makes your stomach clench. You feel not as if you’re intruding, not as if you’re a voyeur or even a witness, but a participant. Somehow, even outside of the room, your presence is with them. 

Your hand slips between your thighs almost without thinking. 

“Bite down on this,” Karasu murmurs, slipping the hem of Otoya’s shirt between his teeth. “You’re so loud. You’ll wake her up.” 

Otoya nods obediently, his eyes teary. He makes a soft, punched out noise and his eyes roll back when Karasu twists his hand around the head of his cock. 

“She’s so soft,” he tells him. “Soft all over. Smells so good too. I’ll let you take some of her lotion home. You can huff it like the pervert you are.” He cracks a sideways, secret smile. 

The shirt slips out of Otoya’s mouth. It’s wet with saliva, a small patch darker than the rest. His teeth have left imprints on the fabric. 

“Want it,” Otoya whines. “Please, I’m-“ his voice creaks on every syllable, so tightly wound it hurts. “‘M close.” 

You slip away silently, trying not to think about how sticky your thighs feel. You don’t know how to bring it up to them. For a while, things proceed as normal, which means Otoya flirts shamelessly with you while Karasu watches smugly. 

And then Otoya asks Karasu if he can kiss you one night. Karasu tilts his head at you.

Otoya’s as needy with you as he is with Karasu. 

“Easy, tiger,” Karasu laughs. He’s holding you open so Otoya can pound into you. His fingers dig into your thighs as Otoya's mouth runs nasty, panting as he fucks you. 

“She’s so tight, Tabito, I can feel her sucking me in. Shit, her pussy’s milking me, hungry for it, yeah, you want this, don’t you?” He can’t stop talking. “I’m, I’m going to-“ 

Otoya comes with Karasu’s hand on his hip, pushing him further into you. He keens against your shoulder where it’s pressed against Karasu’s chest. His wet, wet mouth kisses where your skin meets. 

When Otoya’s done with you, Karasu slips inside, fucking his best friend’s cum out of your tender, sore pussy. He grinds into you slow and deep, taking his sweet time. Something about seeing you sloppy and ruined has him harder than ever. He talks Otoya through it, telling him how good you feel, how wet he left you. 

You’re their girl. It’s only right that they each get an equal share of every experience.

I saw that the blue lock requests are open again (maybe?)

And...I'm just going to throw this here :

Threesome between Karasu/Otoya and reader. 🙏😔

they both drive me WILD thank u very much for this one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon (they've been clubbing so all a lil drunk!), threesome, pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby etc.), cumming untouched, throat fucking/oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal sex, slight use of a vibrator, choking, dacryphilia, noncon photo taking! — lmk if i missed any!!

words: 1.6k

“I d-don’t do this often…” you whisper, barely able to speak as two pairs of lips decorate your exposed skin in blooming blue love bites. Your skin pimples over from the chill as the air hits the licks and laves left by desperate tongues. Eyes roll pathetically until your eyes are nothing but white, your vision succumbing to the pleasure of being groped and manhandled by not one but two men. You hadn’t expected what was intended to be an innocent night out with your friends to turn into this.

“Yeah? S’that right? You've had two guys bring ya home before, sweetheart?” Karasu smirks as his hands dip to the small of your back; ultimately deciding to wander in an instant to grip the globes of your ass.

His hands have you reeling as you struggle to decide whether his touch is rough or soft. Perhaps, calculated. He strategically grabs and pulls you closer, almost hypnotising you into raising your leg to wrap around his waist so he can carry you to your bedroom.

Your apartment is silent save for breathy whispers, eager panting and footsteps as Eita searches for your bedroom. His walking halts, a grin and soft chuckle escaping his lips as Karasu gently spreads your ass whilst he holds you. Your body flushes with heat instantly as your sticky pussy following suit and spreading open soon becomes the loudest sound in the fucking apartment.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think there was an echo. The sound repeating incessantly with the sole purpose of humiliating you. It’s dizzying, really, you can barely keep your thoughts aligned as it rings through your ears again and again.

“I meant I don’t bring guys home often,” you say, finally responding to his question in a bid to distract them from the obscene lewdity dampening between your thighs. “I’ve never done this.” you assure them.

“Pretty pussy is soaked already,” Eita smirks. “Where’s your room, gorgeous?”

You point before looking away in shame, your chin soon gently captured by Karasu as he somehow manages to hold your frame with one arm and carry you to where you had pointed. He plants his lips on yours, humiliation soon becoming a distant memory as your hips instinctively roll against the hard on you can feel stirring to life in his pants.

Eita doesn’t shy away from rummaging through your bedside cabinet, distracting you away from Tabito as your attention is piqued. You yelp, quickly, as you feel yourself thrown from him and onto the bed. He eyes you hungrily as he begins to undress, purposefully taking down button after button from his dress shirt. Eita looks over his shoulder with a smirk before he faces you fully, bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue massages yours, and you whine into his mouth pathetically.

“Do you have anything fun we can use to play with you, doll?” he asks, attaching his lips to yours soon after. “If you don’t bring guys back here often, ‘m sure you’ve got some pretty toys.”

You shake your head softly though your skin burns again as you think about your little makeup bag in the top drawer. You’re distracted, momentarily, as Karasu climbs over you again. His pants still on, but unfastened. The peak of his underwear beneath the material makes you all too aware of the sweat beading down your temple.

“T-There’s a bullet… in the glittery silver purse in the top drawer.” you confess, wrapping you arms around Tabito’s neck as you begin to make out once more. You moan into it, it’s so whiny and eager as he begins to rut his hardening cock into your dripping clothed mound.

“Is that all? No wonder you’re so cock hungry if that’s the best you have…” Eita says calmly but retrieves it anyway. You’re barely listening to him, too lost to the feeling of Tabito’s body against your own. He breaks away to dip his fingers beneath the material of your skirt, patience wearing thin as he yanks the black cotton panties from your aroused core.

“Looka that… you’re fucking drenched, sweetheart.” he smirks. He spreads your legs apart roughly and effortlessly moves your body so that his partner in crime can get a better view of your shimmering flesh.

Eita grins as he retrieves the powder blue bullet from the top drawer. Your skin feels electric as you’re put on display, Karasu keeps your legs pried open and your cunt pulses with each breath you take. He’s a tease, too, kissing your inner thighs and taunting you with the notion of placing his lips where you need them most. It’s torture, hearing them both chuckle and tease you as your hole drools more of your tantalising essence.

You wince, but are almost entirely silent as Eita’s heavy hand wraps around your delicate neck. He squeezes, carefully, pushing a button on the vibe until it whirrs loudly. He lowers it to your sex but too far away to feel any benefit. It’s hovering just shy of your clit while he squeezes your throat almost lovingly.

The way they’re both riling you up, you think the way the vibrations adjusting the air currents may be enough to make you cum. He pushes you down by your throat so that you’re flat against the mattress, and your body instinctively begins to jerk.

“Think she’s gonna cum… we’ve barely touched ya, darlin’. Your pretty cunts twitchin’.” Karasu announces. His lips travel up your body and his teeth bite into the seam of your skimpy crop top, pulling upwards until your breasts spill free. He kisses the soft skin before his teeth gently skim your peaked nipple. And, at that, you moan raucously. Otoya still hasn’t granted you the pleasure of the vibration pressed fully against your cunt, and Karasu decides to fuel to fire. His fingers delicately dance against your inner thigh and the crease.

“Fuck!” you cry, their torment becomes too much. You cum practically untouched, your pussy spasming and clenching around nothing as you whine in ecstasy. They both laugh, almost cruelly.

“Desperate little girl… ya really are cock hungry, huh?” Karasu reiterates. “Think we should give it t’her?” you recoil as his heavy palm slaps against your tremoring heat.

“Mmm, move her, want her head hanging over the mattress.” Eita commands. You’re moved with ease, your head lolling over the side of your bed as he looks down at you. Even upside down, you can see a wicked gleam in his eye. He throws his t-shirt over his head and unfastens his jeans. Your eyes almost cross as he reveals his own hardened length.

He's pretty.

Every inch of him is pretty.

He pumps it a few times, pearlescent pre leaking from his slit before he smears it across your lips like gloss. He smirks when you lick them, a sensual bite following soon after as the taste stirs your arousal.

“Dirty girl,” he says. With one hand, he guides his cock into your mouth before wrapping his palm around your throat. He begins to thrust, finally lowering the whizzing vibrator to your pulsating clit. “Ah, fuuuck.” he moans as he feels your throat hum around him.

“Hey,” you flinch as you feel Karasu slap your tits. “Don’t forget who’s gonna cream your pretty cunt, baby.” he says smugly as he guides his thick length to your clenching slot. He throws his head back, the tightness of your warmth hugging him is a sensation close enough to paradise he’d be happy to die right here and now.

“She’s such a little slut, swear she clenched when you said you were gonna fill her up.” Eita smirks, biting his lip as he feels your throat bulge from each roll of his hips. He withdraws his length, cooing as you sputter and drool as he allows your breathing to steady.

You’re almost sobbing, tears spilling from your eyes as Tabito begins to fuck into you furiously, the little toy barely contributing to the overall pleasure you feel.

“Gonna take it, aren’tcha baby? Gonna be my li’l cum whore.” he asks, fingers gripping into your sensitive skin as he continues railing you at a ruthless pace. And you nod, desperately, it’s all you can do as the heady feeling of bliss overwhelms you.

Otoya soon deprives you of your airways again, missing the feeling of your wet throat choking him.

Your body writhes as you feel another orgasm desperate to rip through you. Otoya has abandoned the pathetic little bullet in favour of his own pleasure, it’s all he was ever concerned about anyway.

Karasu moans, almost roaring as his primal instincts take over. He chases his release, and Eita does the same. They can’t help but laugh as you are the first to succumb to it, your little body spasming between them as you get off from being nothing more than their fuck toy.

You feel warm fill you at both ends, Karasu pants heavily as he withdraws his length and watches his seed spill from your cute little hole. Otoya grins as he hears you once again sputter around his length, he pulls away and can’t help but admire your absolutely ruined face as cum dribbles from your lips. Your mascara has smeared so beautifully, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more captivating sight.

“Wasted my cum, baby… at least you look cute.”

Instinctively, he pulls out his phone to take a picture of you. Karasu follows suit, taking a multitude of photos of your leaking hole.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re jus’ for us.” Karasu assures you.

Eita squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, they’re so swollen and shiny from spit and cum, your little pout has aided to his favourite photo of the night.

“Good job, pretty girl… not through with you though. I want a turn with your slutty little cunt.”

© 2024 rinhaler

“The hands that cradled your face and tilted it upward to kiss your forehead are soaked in unimaginable amounts of blood.”

“But they cradled me, yes?”

Sylus, Caleb, Xavier, Eren, Geto, Gojo?, Levi, Armin, Hawks, Dabi

♪ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♪

༺ Work Night ༻

Oneshot ~ Tokyo Revengers x Female Reader

Summary ~ On the deadliest night of the year, you’re trapped in a flower shop, hunted by five obsessive killers. Survive the night—or become their prey.

Featuring ~ Baji Keisuke, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, and the Haitani Brothers

Extra Notes ~ Jujutsu Kaisen’s Version - Blue Lock’s Version

*Reader is implied to be a foreigner at one point. No language barrier.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr, ao3, wattpad, and patreon. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

|| Warning ||

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

You understood that your employer baited a few naive employees to mandate the merchandise on one of the most dangerous nights of the year—you having been one of the victims of the sly persuasion. You recognized the inducement dripping from the tone of the flower shop’s owner.

“It shouldn’t be that hard to make sure the store is in good condition by the morning. This is a small business, anyway,” she chuckled, hands placed on her hips as she faced the four of you. “I mean, for god’s sake, who’d want to steal flowers?”

Now, you might’ve made a hasty decision in accepting the offer placed on your shoulders, but you were no idiot. You knew the consequences of remaining in a public environment while the duration of the chaotic night played out. Despite the risks that could take place, the price to gain was too enticing to ignore.

Most individuals would simply run around, breaking into banks and wealthier people’s homes to steal cash instead of taking an overnight shift for a boss who’s dubiously obsessed with the product—enough to schedule four of her employees, who had no certifications, as security guards. You weren’t one of those people.

You had no intention of getting slashed across the throat or shot through the head because you were a threat to someone else’s gain. You weren’t one to fight over things of that nature. You didn’t find it worth your life.

You agreed with the owner—nobody would aim for a flower shop. Especially one that attracts minimal business. The boss had already removed the cash from the registers, so the only win would be a variety of flower pots and packaged soil.

Your only job is to clean and mandate the shop.

You are currently leaning over the cashier’s counter, thumb swiping through your social media feed as one of your coworkers, Aimi, sweeps the remnants of fallen petals from the hanging plants, lowly humming a tune as she moved her arms. Chieko had just finished pinning the fabric that conceals the glass windows of the shop, taking a few steps back to admire the work as she rubbed her palms against her jeans.

“This should be good enough, right?” she questioned, turning back to face the assistant manager, who sat on a chair with a leg crossed over, phone in hand.

Jona’s gaze shifted to the covering before he dismissively waved her off, nodding. “Yeah, it’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

You exhaled sharply, setting your phone in your pocket as you stood upright. You turn to face the other employees as you swallow. “Hey, are you sure that nobody has ever tried to break in?” you question, your main focus placed on Jona.

Aimi’s irises flicked over to you before she cracked a warm smile. “Yeah! I’ve taken this shift each year, and nobody has ever tried anything,” she shrugged, setting the broom against the wall.

Chieko walked towards you before placing a hand on your shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve taken this shift for about five years, and I’m still here,” she said, her tone filled with a confident ease that should’ve relaxed your anxiety.

But you couldn’t rid yourself of the heavy pit you felt spreading throughout your stomach.

Jona rolled his eyes before leaning back in his seat, stretching with his arms held in the air. “Relax. Time flies by faster than you think.”

Your eyes shift to the cat-shaped clock that’s set on the wall at the back of the store. It reads nine o’clock, two hours into the dangerous and yet celebrated tradition. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you reach for your phone—

Tap, tap, tap.

Time freezes as you and your coworkers’ attention quickly flies to the entrance of the store. The wooden door’s silver knob rattles, the glass window’s fabric concealing the culprit.

The store is quiet, everyone paused in their positions as they study the area, concern evident in their expressions. Your head turns to Jona as he stands up, shoving his phone in his pocket as he stiffens in his spot.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” You hear the muffled sound of a male’s voice, pleading. The tone is slightly shaky but carries an edge of relative calmness as he knocks against the surface. “Please, I need help!”

You turn to face all of the employees as sweat forms on your skin. “Has this happened before?” you mutter, voice almost a whisper as you try to stay quiet.

Chieko turns towards you, swallowing before she shakes her head in denial. Aimi mimics the gesture as she stares at the door. You can see the unease settle in their presence—fingers twitching, bodies stiffening, and fear radiating off of the women.

Your eyes flick over to Jona, observing the slightly perturbed look on his expression, though contorted with annoyance.

“J—Jona! What are you doing?” Aimi hissed quietly. Her voice is dripping with an apprehensive tone that matches her mien. She attempts to reach out for him, but he moves too fast, standing in front of the door as he lifts the fabric slightly—just enough to peek out of the window.

What the fuck is he doing?!

From the angle where you stand, you fail to see his expression as he stands there for a moment. Eventually, Jona releases the fabric and walks back to the center of the room, facing all of you.

“Listen, that guy out there—he’s bloody as fuck. Nobody is allowed to unlock that door,” he says, his tone flat but edged with caution. His fingers entangle with his short hair as he frowns.

“Bloody? Did he have any weapons?” Aimi questions, eagerness in her tone. She walks closer to Jona, though still at a distance.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t see any, but I’m not taking any chances,” he says as he yanks a small knife out of his pocket. “If he somehow passes through, I at least have this to fight against him.”

You give him a pointed look. “And if he has a gun? What if he just breaks through the windows?” you question, your voice laced with irritation and worry.

Chieko clears her throat. “It’s very rare for a citizen to have a gun here in Japan,” she replies, her tone steady but with an underlying edge of concern.

“Rare, but not impossible,” Jona says before his eyes shift to you. “Look, Y/n. There’s no promise of complete safety. You knew this when you signed up. We work with what we’ve got, so it’s better to just stop asking questions and breathe, got it?”

BANG, BANG, BANG!

“Please! Help me! I—I know someone’s in there! They’re gonna kill me!” the stranger screeches.

All of you wince at the sound of the man’s shouting, his fist against the door growing louder as it vibrates the surface. You can only stand in place as shock becomes evident on the rest of your coworkers’ faces. The tension in your chest grows as the hairs on your skin stand tall. Your heart erratically beats against your chest as your pulse throbs.

“T—they’re?” Aimi repeats, whispering to herself as her hands tremble. “There’s more people?”

Chieko exhales sharply. “They could’ve meant one person, Aimi. We need to relax and come up with an escape pla—!”

The sound was sickening—a roaring rev of a chainsaw, followed by the wet, meaty rip of flesh being pierced through interrupted her statement. It was grotesque, the impact causing muffled gurgles and ragged gasps to escape from the man outside as the relentless grind of metal cleaved through bone.

Suddenly, an eerie stillness settles over the store, a silence heavy with unspoken terror as you all stand, frozen in place.

“J—Jona,” Aimi stammered, fingers gliding against her cheeks as she reached for her hair. “I—I…”

As she trailed off, you swallowed hard, eyes flicking over to Chieko, who was quiet, aside from the shallow, ragged breaths escaping her lips.

Your breathing stopped as you heard a light tapping against the window.

“Oh, Y/n… We know you’re in there! Come out and play!” the male sang, the sound of metal clanking with the glass.

Your body freezes at the sound of your name.

What?

You felt a sudden pit in your stomach as all your coworkers’ gazes locked on you.

“You know them?” Jona questioned, his brows furrowing at your form.

You gasped, shaking your head. “N—no! No, I don’t know anyone aside from you guys!”

It’s the truth. You had only recently moved to Japan after studying the language. You hadn’t had any time to make friends, so it was impossible for anyone to have known you aside from your coworkers.

Before you could defend yourself any further, a crash echoed as the force slammed into the front glass wall, shattering it. You all instinctively ducked in response.

A loud thud landed on the floor, rolling a couple of times before the headless corpse limped on the ground, a ruddy puddle oozing from the gaping neck. You sucked in a sharp breath as you jolted back in quick panic. After hearing Aimi’s scream, your head shifted to her, breaths ragged as you eyed the pieces of glass embedded in her face. Her hands shook as her lips parted in horror.

“My face! My face!” she cried, hysterical as the tears fused with the crimson running down her face. Her fingers barely grazed the sharp pieces as you and Jona stared at her in disbelief.

Your head turned to see Chieko frozen, her form stiff as she trembled, her eyes wide open as she observed the open space of the entrance.

Jona cursed when both of you matched the direction of Chieko’s gaze.

A masked individual stepped over the pointed edge that stuck out from the foundation of the gaping space, the glass cracking underneath their boot. The white plastic concealed his identity, though his blonde-and-black strands draped over his shoulders. Your eyes shift to the metal bat they drag across the floor, your heart rate spiking once the bloody edge comes into view.

Its face was contorted into a somber expression, eyes squinted and nose sculpted to scrunch, while the mouth was drawn into a deep frown. Blood stained the fabric of his clothes, as well as the white of his mask. He stood in place as the rest of the group followed, stepping into the store as the sound of glass crackled.

Your eyes flicked to the man who held the crimson-stained chainsaw, his mask’s expression sculpted into an angry gaze. The mouth mimicked the first person’s shape, but the brows were furrowed. His wavy strands were a solid black, styled similarly to the individual standing next to him. A dry, ruddy substance streaked across his mask, fresh blood covering the majority of his clothes.

Another masked person appeared, slightly diagonal to the first male who entered. His mask was shaped into a theatrical, mischievous grin. His pink hair was pulled into a neatly combed ponytail, one strand flowing over the bloody plastic shield. His glove-covered fingers stretched around the handle of the stained katana.

The other masked individual chuckled. “Seriously? This is what you were guarding?” he questioned, his tone dripping with mockery as he slung the stained machete over his shoulder. His mask was that of a grimace, his purple hair styled in a mullet. He shoved one hand in his pocket as he looked around, blood splotching both his mask and clothing.

The taller man next to him stepped forward, a baton held in the same position as the former’s machete, though his thumb slightly tapped against the handle. His mask was sculpted into a wide smile, one of humor, as he tilted his head. His short, purple hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes streaked with crimson.

He clicked his tongue. “That’s what you thought would keep you safe?” the male drawled, a smirk evident in his tone. The edge of his baton pointed in the direction of Jona, who stood with caution, holding out his pocket knife. “How pathetic.”

“Enough talk,” the man with the chainsaw said, his tone slightly cocky but firm. “Let’s wreck this place already.”

A chuckle spread throughout the quiet room. “Let’s see how fast they can run,” the blonde-streaked male said.

Instantaneously, everything moved at a quick pace.

You immediately ducked your head as the brisk swing of the baton barely missed your head, the male having taken long strides toward you before you could escape your frozen state.

He chuckled. “Pesky little thing. I’ve been curious about you for a while, Y/n.”

You made eye contact through the mask, purple irises piercing your form before he swung again. You jumped out of the way, just in time for the end of his baton to crack the register, the device flipping over and falling against the counter with a noisy thud.

How does he know my name?

A scream caught your attention, your head shifting to the right where you saw Aimi attempt to make a run for the exit, only for the gloved hand to snatch her by the back of the collar, shoving her to the floor against the corpse. Just as the pink-haired man stepped over her, you rolled out of the direction the edge of the baton smacked, bouncing against the floor.

“I’m curious if you’re worth my time. I’ll see if you make it through the night,” he said, his tone dripping with sick amusement.

You stumbled as you lifted yourself up, just as your gaze switched to Jona, his hand holding up the knife as the purple-haired man walked toward him. “This is too funny,” he chuckled.

CLANK!

The loud sound that echoed throughout the room caught your attention as your gaze shifted to the left. You sucked in a sharp breath as you saw the finishing impact of Chieko’s head being forced to the side, blood splattering in the air as she landed on the ground. She groaned as the male lifted his bat, slamming the end of the metal against her skull over and over. The sickening crunch of the broken bone caused bile to burn your throat, a burning lump caught as you felt the tears prick your eyes.

This is really happening. We’re all gonna die.

“Chieko!” Jona screeched, though the distraction only caused his eventual demise.

I should’ve been more prepared. I should’ve known.

The ear-splitting rev of the chainsaw started up just as the masked male snuck behind the man holding the pocket knife, the metal piercing through his waist at an agonizingly slow pace. Jona’s lips released choked gasps as he stood in place, his head slowly turning toward you with his eyes wide open. You watched as crimson gushed down his chin, the sound of the drops from his cut torso splatting on the ground as his body split open.

Your fingers twitched as you moved, the edge of the baton grazing your shoulder as you jumped out of the path just in time, landing painfully on the messy ground. The palms of your hands slid against the liquid pooling around the area. Your head lifted in time to see the male with the katana place his foot on Aimi’s chest.

Her hands shook as she braced herself. “Please! Please, don’t kill me! I’m not ready to die!”

The man crouched over her, katana across his lap as he leaned against his knees. He brought his free hand to his mouth, index finger pressed against his lips as he shushed her.

“I’m doing you a favor, you know? With that ugly face of yours and all. You should be thanking me,” he mused, a grin evident behind the mask before he stood upright. His arms raised with both hands wrapped around the katana before he lifted the blade over his head.

You stumbled over the slick blood, picking yourself up just in time for the blade to slice through the head of your former coworker, the grotesque sound of flesh splitting meeting your ears. The man with the baton stared down at you while you ran for the gaping hole in the wall.

Before you could escape, your arm was yanked back, a tight curl of the male’s fingers holding you in a painful grip. “Where are you going? The fun’s just begun,” the male with the bat taunted.

He tossed you on the ground, your body landing with a thud before you scooted back, crimson spreading across your skin as you surpassed the corpses, eyeing the men whose attention was now placed on your trembling form.

Just as you attempt to pick yourself up, the male with the chainsaw in one hand crouched in front of you. Before you can stop your reflexes, you ball your hand into a fist before back-handing the man with an upward curvature, his mask flying off as the strap slides off his head.

Your breathing is ragged as you hear the whistles and snickering in the background, the black-haired male slowly facing you with piercing brown irises. His gaze is locked on you, expression contorted in an irritated and yet amused look. His free hand reached for the cheek you hit.

Your eyes goggled in recognition. “You—!”

The customer.

One of your regulars.

The only difference is that his hair is down and his glasses are vacant.

“B—Baji?”

He smirked. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said before his free hand shot to your throat, fingers curling tightly around the surface as you reached for his hand.

You attempt to peel his fingers off your throat, but he only tugged you upward to match his height as he stood upright. Your nails pierced his skin as you struggled to breathe.

This is it.

“You have any idea how long we’ve been waiting for this moment?” he said, his voice dripping with impatience and a wicked grin planted on his face.

He held you in place for a moment as his eyes flicked over your expression, the sharp gazes of all the men grazing into your skin as they studied you like predators observing their prey.

“Hey, Baji, how about we have a little fun?” The pink-haired man drawled, closing in on your space as he walked forward.

The black-haired man chuckled. “What do ya have in mind?” His grin widened as he stared at you.

You continued to struggle, your heart beating against your chest as your feet dangled in the air.

“A little chase, huh?” he purred, head tilting. “Sounds fun to me.”

“Oh shit, that sounds like a great idea!” the male with the bat said with enthusiasm. “Let’s give her a head start.”

The man with the grimace on his mask hummed. “Sounds fun enough,” he shrugged.

The man with the baton chuckled. “Let’s see how far this bunny can jump.”

Suddenly, your knees met with the hard surface of the floor as Baji leaned over you.

“You get a ten-second head start. If one of us catches you…” he paused as he leaned closer. “You’re mine.”

—𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.

wc: 1355

Your breathing is ragged as the platform of your shoes slams against the pavement. The night is surprisingly quiet aside from your heavy steps as you rush down the street.

“Please, please, please,” you plead to nothing as the breeze kisses your skin, the chill of the night causing goosebumps to rise from your hair follicles.

The adrenaline in your veins pumps as the heavy beating of your heart erratically thumps against your chest. There’s a tight constriction in the pit of your stomach and an ache that’s spreading throughout your calves.

—

♪ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♪

༺ Work Night ༻

Oneshot ~ Tokyo Revengers x Female Reader

Summary ~ On the deadliest night of the year, you’re trapped in a flower shop, hunted by five obsessive killers. Survive the night—or become their prey.

Featuring ~ Baji Keisuke, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, and the Haitani Brothers

Extra Notes ~ Jujutsu Kaisen’s Version - Blue Lock’s Version

*Reader is implied to be a foreigner at one point. No language barrier.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr, ao3, wattpad, and patreon. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

|| Warning ||

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

You understood that your employer baited a few naive employees to mandate the merchandise on one of the most dangerous nights of the year—you having been one of the victims of the sly persuasion. You recognized the inducement dripping from the tone of the flower shop’s owner.

“It shouldn’t be that hard to make sure the store is in good condition by the morning. This is a small business, anyway,” she chuckled, hands placed on her hips as she faced the four of you. “I mean, for god’s sake, who’d want to steal flowers?”

Now, you might’ve made a hasty decision in accepting the offer placed on your shoulders, but you were no idiot. You knew the consequences of remaining in a public environment while the duration of the chaotic night played out. Despite the risks that could take place, the price to gain was too enticing to ignore.

Most individuals would simply run around, breaking into banks and wealthier people’s homes to steal cash instead of taking an overnight shift for a boss who’s dubiously obsessed with the product—enough to schedule four of her employees, who had no certifications, as security guards. You weren’t one of those people.

You had no intention of getting slashed across the throat or shot through the head because you were a threat to someone else’s gain. You weren’t one to fight over things of that nature. You didn’t find it worth your life.

You agreed with the owner—nobody would aim for a flower shop. Especially one that attracts minimal business. The boss had already removed the cash from the registers, so the only win would be a variety of flower pots and packaged soil.

Your only job is to clean and mandate the shop.

You are currently leaning over the cashier’s counter, thumb swiping through your social media feed as one of your coworkers, Aimi, sweeps the remnants of fallen petals from the hanging plants, lowly humming a tune as she moved her arms. Chieko had just finished pinning the fabric that conceals the glass windows of the shop, taking a few steps back to admire the work as she rubbed her palms against her jeans.

“This should be good enough, right?” she questioned, turning back to face the assistant manager, who sat on a chair with a leg crossed over, phone in hand.

Jona’s gaze shifted to the covering before he dismissively waved her off, nodding. “Yeah, it’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

You exhaled sharply, setting your phone in your pocket as you stood upright. You turn to face the other employees as you swallow. “Hey, are you sure that nobody has ever tried to break in?” you question, your main focus placed on Jona.

Aimi’s irises flicked over to you before she cracked a warm smile. “Yeah! I’ve taken this shift each year, and nobody has ever tried anything,” she shrugged, setting the broom against the wall.

Chieko walked towards you before placing a hand on your shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve taken this shift for about five years, and I’m still here,” she said, her tone filled with a confident ease that should’ve relaxed your anxiety.

But you couldn’t rid yourself of the heavy pit you felt spreading throughout your stomach.

Jona rolled his eyes before leaning back in his seat, stretching with his arms held in the air. “Relax. Time flies by faster than you think.”

Your eyes shift to the cat-shaped clock that’s set on the wall at the back of the store. It reads nine o’clock, two hours into the dangerous and yet celebrated tradition. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you reach for your phone—

Tap, tap, tap.

Time freezes as you and your coworkers’ attention quickly flies to the entrance of the store. The wooden door’s silver knob rattles, the glass window’s fabric concealing the culprit.

The store is quiet, everyone paused in their positions as they study the area, concern evident in their expressions. Your head turns to Jona as he stands up, shoving his phone in his pocket as he stiffens in his spot.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” You hear the muffled sound of a male’s voice, pleading. The tone is slightly shaky but carries an edge of relative calmness as he knocks against the surface. “Please, I need help!”

You turn to face all of the employees as sweat forms on your skin. “Has this happened before?” you mutter, voice almost a whisper as you try to stay quiet.

Chieko turns towards you, swallowing before she shakes her head in denial. Aimi mimics the gesture as she stares at the door. You can see the unease settle in their presence—fingers twitching, bodies stiffening, and fear radiating off of the women.

Your eyes flick over to Jona, observing the slightly perturbed look on his expression, though contorted with annoyance.

“J—Jona! What are you doing?” Aimi hissed quietly. Her voice is dripping with an apprehensive tone that matches her mien. She attempts to reach out for him, but he moves too fast, standing in front of the door as he lifts the fabric slightly—just enough to peek out of the window.

What the fuck is he doing?!

From the angle where you stand, you fail to see his expression as he stands there for a moment. Eventually, Jona releases the fabric and walks back to the center of the room, facing all of you.

“Listen, that guy out there—he’s bloody as fuck. Nobody is allowed to unlock that door,” he says, his tone flat but edged with caution. His fingers entangle with his short hair as he frowns.

“Bloody? Did he have any weapons?” Aimi questions, eagerness in her tone. She walks closer to Jona, though still at a distance.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t see any, but I’m not taking any chances,” he says as he yanks a small knife out of his pocket. “If he somehow passes through, I at least have this to fight against him.”

You give him a pointed look. “And if he has a gun? What if he just breaks through the windows?” you question, your voice laced with irritation and worry.

Chieko clears her throat. “It’s very rare for a citizen to have a gun here in Japan,” she replies, her tone steady but with an underlying edge of concern.

“Rare, but not impossible,” Jona says before his eyes shift to you. “Look, Y/n. There’s no promise of complete safety. You knew this when you signed up. We work with what we’ve got, so it’s better to just stop asking questions and breathe, got it?”

BANG, BANG, BANG!

“Please! Help me! I—I know someone’s in there! They’re gonna kill me!” the stranger screeches.

All of you wince at the sound of the man’s shouting, his fist against the door growing louder as it vibrates the surface. You can only stand in place as shock becomes evident on the rest of your coworkers’ faces. The tension in your chest grows as the hairs on your skin stand tall. Your heart erratically beats against your chest as your pulse throbs.

“T—they’re?” Aimi repeats, whispering to herself as her hands tremble. “There’s more people?”

Chieko exhales sharply. “They could’ve meant one person, Aimi. We need to relax and come up with an escape pla—!”

The sound was sickening—a roaring rev of a chainsaw, followed by the wet, meaty rip of flesh being pierced through interrupted her statement. It was grotesque, the impact causing muffled gurgles and ragged gasps to escape from the man outside as the relentless grind of metal cleaved through bone.

Suddenly, an eerie stillness settles over the store, a silence heavy with unspoken terror as you all stand, frozen in place.

“J—Jona,” Aimi stammered, fingers gliding against her cheeks as she reached for her hair. “I—I…”

As she trailed off, you swallowed hard, eyes flicking over to Chieko, who was quiet, aside from the shallow, ragged breaths escaping her lips.

Your breathing stopped as you heard a light tapping against the window.

“Oh, Y/n… We know you’re in there! Come out and play!” the male sang, the sound of metal clanking with the glass.

Your body freezes at the sound of your name.

What?

You felt a sudden pit in your stomach as all your coworkers’ gazes locked on you.

“You know them?” Jona questioned, his brows furrowing at your form.

You gasped, shaking your head. “N—no! No, I don’t know anyone aside from you guys!”

It’s the truth. You had only recently moved to Japan after studying the language. You hadn’t had any time to make friends, so it was impossible for anyone to have known you aside from your coworkers.

Before you could defend yourself any further, a crash echoed as the force slammed into the front glass wall, shattering it. You all instinctively ducked in response.

A loud thud landed on the floor, rolling a couple of times before the headless corpse limped on the ground, a ruddy puddle oozing from the gaping neck. You sucked in a sharp breath as you jolted back in quick panic. After hearing Aimi’s scream, your head shifted to her, breaths ragged as you eyed the pieces of glass embedded in her face. Her hands shook as her lips parted in horror.

“My face! My face!” she cried, hysterical as the tears fused with the crimson running down her face. Her fingers barely grazed the sharp pieces as you and Jona stared at her in disbelief.

Your head turned to see Chieko frozen, her form stiff as she trembled, her eyes wide open as she observed the open space of the entrance.

Jona cursed when both of you matched the direction of Chieko’s gaze.

A masked individual stepped over the pointed edge that stuck out from the foundation of the gaping space, the glass cracking underneath their boot. The white plastic concealed his identity, though his blonde-and-black strands draped over his shoulders. Your eyes shift to the metal bat they drag across the floor, your heart rate spiking once the bloody edge comes into view.

Its face was contorted into a somber expression, eyes squinted and nose sculpted to scrunch, while the mouth was drawn into a deep frown. Blood stained the fabric of his clothes, as well as the white of his mask. He stood in place as the rest of the group followed, stepping into the store as the sound of glass crackled.

Your eyes flicked to the man who held the crimson-stained chainsaw, his mask’s expression sculpted into an angry gaze. The mouth mimicked the first person’s shape, but the brows were furrowed. His wavy strands were a solid black, styled similarly to the individual standing next to him. A dry, ruddy substance streaked across his mask, fresh blood covering the majority of his clothes.

Another masked person appeared, slightly diagonal to the first male who entered. His mask was shaped into a theatrical, mischievous grin. His pink hair was pulled into a neatly combed ponytail, one strand flowing over the bloody plastic shield. His glove-covered fingers stretched around the handle of the stained katana.

The other masked individual chuckled. “Seriously? This is what you were guarding?” he questioned, his tone dripping with mockery as he slung the stained machete over his shoulder. His mask was that of a grimace, his purple hair styled in a mullet. He shoved one hand in his pocket as he looked around, blood splotching both his mask and clothing.

The taller man next to him stepped forward, a baton held in the same position as the former’s machete, though his thumb slightly tapped against the handle. His mask was sculpted into a wide smile, one of humor, as he tilted his head. His short, purple hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes streaked with crimson.

He clicked his tongue. “That’s what you thought would keep you safe?” the male drawled, a smirk evident in his tone. The edge of his baton pointed in the direction of Jona, who stood with caution, holding out his pocket knife. “How pathetic.”

“Enough talk,” the man with the chainsaw said, his tone slightly cocky but firm. “Let’s wreck this place already.”

A chuckle spread throughout the quiet room. “Let’s see how fast they can run,” the blonde-streaked male said.

Instantaneously, everything moved at a quick pace.

You immediately ducked your head as the brisk swing of the baton barely missed your head, the male having taken long strides toward you before you could escape your frozen state.

He chuckled. “Pesky little thing. I’ve been curious about you for a while, Y/n.”

You made eye contact through the mask, purple irises piercing your form before he swung again. You jumped out of the way, just in time for the end of his baton to crack the register, the device flipping over and falling against the counter with a noisy thud.

How does he know my name?

A scream caught your attention, your head shifting to the right where you saw Aimi attempt to make a run for the exit, only for the gloved hand to snatch her by the back of the collar, shoving her to the floor against the corpse. Just as the pink-haired man stepped over her, you rolled out of the direction the edge of the baton smacked, bouncing against the floor.

“I’m curious if you’re worth my time. I’ll see if you make it through the night,” he said, his tone dripping with sick amusement.

You stumbled as you lifted yourself up, just as your gaze switched to Jona, his hand holding up the knife as the purple-haired man walked toward him. “This is too funny,” he chuckled.

CLANK!

The loud sound that echoed throughout the room caught your attention as your gaze shifted to the left. You sucked in a sharp breath as you saw the finishing impact of Chieko’s head being forced to the side, blood splattering in the air as she landed on the ground. She groaned as the male lifted his bat, slamming the end of the metal against her skull over and over. The sickening crunch of the broken bone caused bile to burn your throat, a burning lump caught as you felt the tears prick your eyes.

This is really happening. We’re all gonna die.

“Chieko!” Jona screeched, though the distraction only caused his eventual demise.

I should’ve been more prepared. I should’ve known.

The ear-splitting rev of the chainsaw started up just as the masked male snuck behind the man holding the pocket knife, the metal piercing through his waist at an agonizingly slow pace. Jona’s lips released choked gasps as he stood in place, his head slowly turning toward you with his eyes wide open. You watched as crimson gushed down his chin, the sound of the drops from his cut torso splatting on the ground as his body split open.

Your fingers twitched as you moved, the edge of the baton grazing your shoulder as you jumped out of the path just in time, landing painfully on the messy ground. The palms of your hands slid against the liquid pooling around the area. Your head lifted in time to see the male with the katana place his foot on Aimi’s chest.

Her hands shook as she braced herself. “Please! Please, don’t kill me! I’m not ready to die!”

The man crouched over her, katana across his lap as he leaned against his knees. He brought his free hand to his mouth, index finger pressed against his lips as he shushed her.

“I’m doing you a favor, you know? With that ugly face of yours and all. You should be thanking me,” he mused, a grin evident behind the mask before he stood upright. His arms raised with both hands wrapped around the katana before he lifted the blade over his head.

You stumbled over the slick blood, picking yourself up just in time for the blade to slice through the head of your former coworker, the grotesque sound of flesh splitting meeting your ears. The man with the baton stared down at you while you ran for the gaping hole in the wall.

Before you could escape, your arm was yanked back, a tight curl of the male’s fingers holding you in a painful grip. “Where are you going? The fun’s just begun,” the male with the bat taunted.

He tossed you on the ground, your body landing with a thud before you scooted back, crimson spreading across your skin as you surpassed the corpses, eyeing the men whose attention was now placed on your trembling form.

Just as you attempt to pick yourself up, the male with the chainsaw in one hand crouched in front of you. Before you can stop your reflexes, you ball your hand into a fist before back-handing the man with an upward curvature, his mask flying off as the strap slides off his head.

Your breathing is ragged as you hear the whistles and snickering in the background, the black-haired male slowly facing you with piercing brown irises. His gaze is locked on you, expression contorted in an irritated and yet amused look. His free hand reached for the cheek you hit.

Your eyes goggled in recognition. “You—!”

The customer.

One of your regulars.

The only difference is that his hair is down and his glasses are vacant.

“B—Baji?”

He smirked. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said before his free hand shot to your throat, fingers curling tightly around the surface as you reached for his hand.

You attempt to peel his fingers off your throat, but he only tugged you upward to match his height as he stood upright. Your nails pierced his skin as you struggled to breathe.

This is it.

“You have any idea how long we’ve been waiting for this moment?” he said, his voice dripping with impatience and a wicked grin planted on his face.

He held you in place for a moment as his eyes flicked over your expression, the sharp gazes of all the men grazing into your skin as they studied you like predators observing their prey.

“Hey, Baji, how about we have a little fun?” The pink-haired man drawled, closing in on your space as he walked forward.

The black-haired man chuckled. “What do ya have in mind?” His grin widened as he stared at you.

You continued to struggle, your heart beating against your chest as your feet dangled in the air.

“A little chase, huh?” he purred, head tilting. “Sounds fun to me.”

“Oh shit, that sounds like a great idea!” the male with the bat said with enthusiasm. “Let’s give her a head start.”

The man with the grimace on his mask hummed. “Sounds fun enough,” he shrugged.

The man with the baton chuckled. “Let’s see how far this bunny can jump.”

Suddenly, your knees met with the hard surface of the floor as Baji leaned over you.

“You get a ten-second head start. If one of us catches you…” he paused as he leaned closer. “You’re mine.”

—𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.

wc: 1355

Your breathing is ragged as the platform of your shoes slams against the pavement. The night is surprisingly quiet aside from your heavy steps as you rush down the street.

“Please, please, please,” you plead to nothing as the breeze kisses your skin, the chill of the night causing goosebumps to rise from your hair follicles.

The adrenaline in your veins pumps as the heavy beating of your heart erratically thumps against your chest. There’s a tight constriction in the pit of your stomach and an ache that’s spreading throughout your calves.

—

OH MY LORD NERDJO AS SPIDER-MAN SOMEONE BANG ME IM THE HEAD NOW

O.M.G. This is fucking gorgeous, magical and beautiful

Evangeline and Jacks - Artwork by @palinlineart on Instagram

“I think the last thing I expected today was to be made a slut by my best friends.” — gojo x fem!reader x geto

cw: oral sex, smut smut smut, anal, double penetration, pet names, english isn’t my first language.

wa: 3,3k

“Ladies and gentlemen! First of all, I want to thank you all for being here celebrating the debut of the first of many Halloween parties in the ancient catacombs”

I laughed, a little humorlessly. I couldn't take Itadori's booming voice over the loudspeakers seriously, and not just because of his extravagant and exaggerated lines. I drank some of the beer in my red plastic cup, the taste bittering the tip of my tongue.

“Itadori is really taking this seriously, huh?” Maki, who was wearing a pirate costume, combined with Nobara, spoke up, messing up his short black hair a bit in the way that it still looked nice.

“It's amazing that he managed to organize all this!” Nobara said excitedly, waving her arms “Come on, a party in the catacombs is awesome!”

“Was this really allowed? Or are there a bunch of teenagers invading an old cemetery?” Megumi, who apparently wasn't wearing a costume, asked in her usual humor, without taking her eyes off her cell phone.

“Who cares, Gumi? Put down that cell phone and enjoy the party!” Satoru Gojo, who looked like a male playboy model with skull make-up, excitedly intruded on the conversation, accompanied by Geto, pulling a lock of my hair in the process. I let out a groan of pain.

“Ouch, you idiot!”

“Huh? What did you call me?” Gojo looked down, due to our height difference, leaning towards me with a stupid smile on his lips.

"Leave her alone, Satoru," Geto, who was wearing only black with a Ghostface mask around his waist, interjected, slipping his arm around my shoulders in a protective way. Gojo just grinned at him.

“Okayyy, let's go!” Nobara took off, pulling Maki and Megumi along the way, and I followed with Geto and Gojo.

“I like your costume, Freddy Krueger, huh?” Geto murmured softly in my ear as we walked through the cemetery in search of the rest of our group of friends.

I was wearing a long-sleeved black and red striped cropped top, with a few deliberate rips; a short, tight black skirt, fishnet stockings and black boots that reached just below my knees.

“Thank you!” I smiled, snuggling up to him.

Geto and Gojo have been my best friends since I was a pre-teen when we met at school and we've never stopped talking. Despite the ups and downs and our three personalities clashing from time to time, I can't see myself without these two. They're the balance I need. Todō turned over a can of beer at once when we met the guys. Inumaki and Itadori laughed loudly, while Yuta just laughed weakly and nodded, saying something to his girlfriend, Rika. Gojo didn't waste any time and jumped in, wanting to join in the fun too; he grabbed a can of beer and came towards me with a look like a pouty dog.

“Could you make a cut in the can for me? It'll hurt my finger and my skin is sensitive” he said like a little boy begging for candy as he ran his finger along the beer can, showing me where I needed to make the hole.

“If I break my nail, I'll kill you, Satoru” I said in warning, joking with him, and then stuck my nail – which was stiletto-shaped – easily through the can and handed it to him.

“You're the best in the world!” he quickly took the can from my hand and drank all the liquid at once, not leaving my gaze for a second and I felt a strange warmth in my stomach.

“Hey, you three!” I heard Itadori calling us “The guys want to go to the catacombs now, are you coming?”

“Of course!” Geto said, pulling me by the waist to walk with him.

“What's in the catacombs?” I asked.

“It looks like they've made some horror tunnels down there, you know, to scare you and stuff, at least that's what I heard Yuuji saying.” Gojo replied with a shrug.

I heard a giggle from Geto and noticed the mischievous look he was giving me, but I ignored it. He knew about my questionable taste when it came to Halloween and that I loved being scared.

[...]

Nowadays, the catacombs were no longer used as much, but they were still a very well-preserved part of the city. We entered the small chapel that gave access to the catacombs' staircase; it was decorated with typical Halloween stuff: bats, spider webs, candles with fake blood and several balloons scattered around, as well as a lot of smoke. Some people danced, even though the music was muffled, and others grabbed each other on some benches. I don't know if it's a sin – it probably is – but it certainly must be morally wrong. I smiled at some acquaintances on the way to the innermost part of the chapel.

“What does it mean?” I asked Geto, pointing to a sign on the portal leading to the stairs.

“Descensus Averno Facilis Est.” he whispered in my ear “The descent into hell is easy”

“Oh, how macabre," I laughed, a little more inwardly than outwardly because of the alcohol I'd drunk earlier.

“And you don't like it one bit, do you?" He squeezed my waist and I shrugged with a sleepy little smile.

The staircase was narrow and spiral-shaped, made of old and dusty stone, just like the catacombs. Geto released his grip on me as we went down the stairs, since we couldn't fit side by side. Gojo went ahead of me, making me stand between the two of them. The air was freezing down there and it would have been pitch black if it hadn't been for the black light there, highlighting the neon dye on the walls: half-deformed skulls, more spider webs, bloody hands and blood splatters shone through. There were also some wooden signs and arrows pointing the way.

“Ok so, this way you'd better go in groups of three” Itadori began “The hallways are narrow and if this fucking thing collapses on someone” he waved his hands: fuck.

Yuuji continued talking, but I confess I didn't pay much attention, busy trying to get a view of the hallway to my right.

“We'll go this way, then” I felt Gojo's arm wrap around my waist and pull me in where I was looking, with Geto on our heels. I said goodbye to the rest of the guys, blowing them a kiss and waving goodbye with my hand, laughing silly.

That hallway was too narrow, leaving Gojo and me very close, his body all over mine, so I guessed that they were fake walls. Above our heads, neon arrows guided the way and fake spider webs stuck to my arms and legs. The catacombs obviously reeked of death, making me nauseous with all those flashing lights, and the drink I'd had earlier didn't help.

“Now comes the interesting part” Gojo whispered in my ear, his warm breath hitting my throat “Playtime has begun.”

I let out a weak laugh: "What are you talking about, Satoru?”

“Well, I'm going to count to three, and then you're going to start running” he said slowly “Do you understand?”

“Are we playing tag now, Satoru?” I felt him nod and I laughed, with a cold feeling in my stomach.

I felt him slap my ass twice, muttering "Go, go!" and stopping to give me space. I laughed and nodded before starting to run, glancing back once to catch just a glimpse of his silhouette. I had no firmness in my steps as I ran, an uneven, dusty floor didn't go very well with heels. The hallway was long and I was beginning to feel breathless and nauseous. I stopped to breathe, my lungs burning inside my chest; I took a deep breath, calming my breathing to try and hear something. I concentrated on the sound of my surroundings: the muffled melody of Chill Bill - Rob $tone playing above the ground, and the heavy sound of approaching footsteps. I started running again, trying not to slacken my breathing so as not to tire too quickly.

I turned a corner and ran into a wall, my nose hurting a little from the impact and not enough, a zombie doll suddenly came out of the wall to my left, making that typical monster noise. I screamed and my throat burned. After the adrenaline rush wore off, I laughed at myself for having been startled by it, since looking at the doll in a better light, it seemed kind of funny and clumsy. I turned around and headed back down the hallway I'd come from at the start and continued for about two minutes when I found myself at a fork in the hallway. I looked from side to side, not knowing exactly which way to go, but I went left anyway. I almost tripped over a rock there, lost my balance and staggered a little, hitting a wall. A wall that held my waist firmly. I gasped in fright and looked up, only to have a white ghost mask staring straight at me. My God, I think I've wet myself.

“Got you," Geto said, his thick voice muffled by the mask.

“Thank God, then" I said a little sheepishly and he laughed.

I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me and turned my head to look.

“You dirty bitch, I thought you were going to go right!” Gojo exclaimed behind me with a hearty laugh and fit in perfectly with me.

“It's because I'm the favorite, Satoru” Geto said snobbishly, making fun of Gojo and I could be sure that he had a stupid little smile on his lips behind his mask.

“Nhenhenhe” Gojo threw a childish tantrum, picking on Suguru “You know what a safe word is, don't you, pretty girl?”he murmured against my throat, making me bite my lower lip, already having an idea of where it was all going and I nodded.

“All right, do you want to choose yours?” Geto asked, his thick hand tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck.

“Hum…” I thought “Halloween.” I replied with a broad smile.

“So let's get started" Gojo said.

[...]

Gojo had pushed me onto my knees for Suguru, while he kept a tight grip on my hair in a makeshift ponytail, Geto unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his thick cock, which slapped against my cheek.

“You know what to do, don't you, love?” Gojo urged, pushing my head towards Suguru's member, if only we could get closer.

I licked the tip, feeling the bitter taste of pre-cum and went down the length, licking his balls in the process and Geto moaned hoarsely above me. It didn't take me long to take him in, my jaw aching at his size. I pulled in a breath through my nose and tried to relax before really getting down to business, but as it was Gojo who had the grip on my head, he pushed me forward and I choked on Suguru's cock, only to pull back completely. I instinctively spat on Geto's cock, making it wetter before sticking it in my mouth again, starting a blowjob. I looked up and, my god, my pussy clenched around nothing watching that scene. I may have somewhat distorted tastes, and that's fine, I can't deny getting horny at the idea of fucking ghostface; everyone has flaws, after all. Gojo forced his grip on me again, this time pulling and pushing my head several times, and I choked on each one, listening to his sadistic laughter as Suguru moaned. The brunette pulled my head back and I felt a little humiliated, kneeling on the floor with my mouth all drooling.

“I told you that little mouth was good for something, didn't I, Suguru?” Gojo said, looking down at me, pulling my lower lip, making me open my mouth, he gathered saliva in his mouth and spat it into mine, closing it and I swallowed. “Good girl” He patted my wet face twice.

Geto replaced Gojo's hand in my hair with his own, turning my face and forcing his cock into my mouth, which was very well accepted. Suguru didn't have the aggressive, euphoric grip like Gojo, letting me revel in his cock and enjoy it however I wanted.

I felt Gojo lift my skirt from behind, the fabric bunched around my waist and the cold wind whipped against my ass. Satoru slipped his finger into one of the little holes in my stocking and pulled, ripping it open. I moaned into Geto's cock in protest.

It was new! :(

“I'll buy you another one, babe” Gojo laughed as he spread my ass, hooking his thumbs in the curve that connected my ass and thighs.

He ran a finger against the fabric of my panties – and I was kind of thankful it was black, since the stain of my own arousal fluid wouldn't be visible there in the dark – and began a delicious massage of my clitoris. That only encouraged me to suck Geto's cock harder, intensifying the back and forth, before moving down to suck his balls, maintaining eye contact; even though it wasn't possible to see his eyes. I rolled over against Gojo when he pushed my panties aside and shoved two digits inside me and I heard him laugh. Fuck, I think the last thing I expected today was to be made a slut of by my best friends. Gojo's fingers were long and slender, reaching places that mine couldn’t.

“Satoru…” I moaned slyly, getting on all fours on the floor.

“Huh? What's wrong, pretty girl?” he asked, pressing down on my clit with his other hand and I moaned a little louder.

“I think she wants to cum, Satoru” Geto said, squatting down in front of me “Don't you, little one?”

I nodded frantically, my face very much against his ghost mask.

“Oh, what a shame!” Gojo pulled his hands away from me in a loud "ploc!" and a sudden urge to cry closed my throat; I looked a little sadly at Geto.

“You're going to make the girl cry, Satoru” Geto laughed and grabbed my cheeks with one hand, forming a peck on my lipstick-smudged lips.

I heard the clink of Gojo's belt falling to the floor and a movement as if he had pulled down his pants.

“She's really going to cry when I put my cock in her tight ass, that's for sure" he said with a sadistic laugh and I looked wide-eyed at Geto, who gave a muffled laugh.

“Satoru!” I spoke with difficulty, due to Suguru's grip on my face, when I felt Gojo brush his cock against my folds, lubricating it.

“I'll be gentle, my love, I promise.”

“Suguru…” I whimpered to Geto, since he was always the most protective.

“Do you want to say your word, princess? You can.” he said, and I felt Gojo's tip in my pussy and the pressure of a finger in my ass.

I pondered for a moment. I knew that if I said, they would stop right away, I was sure of it.

But did I want to stop?

I denied it with my head and Gojo thrust into me all at once, making me moan with his cock in my pussy and a finger making its way into my ass. He thrust slowly but hard, moaning hoarsely. He pulled out his entire member and thrust in again, making me moan. Gojo slipped another finger in, making scissor movements inside my hole to widen it.

It wasn't long before I was a mess between the two of them, moaning and whimpering. The unusual burning slowly starting to turn into pleasure. Satoru pulled out of me, leaving my ass and pussy throbbing with need and my clit aching with horniness.

“Come here, beautiful” Gojo had sat down on the floor and was patting his strong thigh, inviting me “Sugu wants to enjoy that pussy too.”

I crawled onto his lap and Gojo helped me sit down, holding my legs while Geto slid Satoru’s cock into my ass. Gojo's member was much thicker than his fingers, and despite the quick preparation and all the horniness, it still hurt a bit.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, my mouth open and gasping for breath. My legs trembled and I moaned when I felt Geto's tongue circle my swollen clit. He sucked hard on the little bud with a pop. He ran his tongue down my wet length, the tip of his muscle threatening to enter my canal. The pleasure at the front distracted me a little from the delicious pain I was feeling at the back, barely noticing when Gojo's cock was halfway in. It was a new and strange sensation, but it still felt good. Suguru sucked my clit hard three times and that was enough to make me cum. My legs trembled intensely and only didn't close because Geto held them. A hoarse moan came from my lips and Gojo's at the same time as I squeezed his cock inside me.

Geto slapped my thigh and came against my lips. His mask had long since been thrown away. He took my mouth in a wet and messy kiss, his tongue sucking mine greedily and I moaned against his mouth as Gojo sank his cock all the way in. Suguru broke the kiss with a snap, a thick thread of saliva connecting our lips. He lowered his gaze to where Gojo and I connected, taking his own cock and shoving it inside my pussy. Having both of them filling me up there was too much. Too much. I felt as full as if I was going to break, and when Geto started thrusting I thought I was on the verge of madness. Suguru's thrust into my pussy made me feel Gojo's cock getting deeper and deeper.

“You like having two dicks fucking you at the same time, don't you, slut?” Geto moaned and I whimpered, just nodding my head.

Gojo's strong chest vibrated against my back as he moaned. His hands pulled my crop top up and my bra down, my breasts bouncing as they were finally released, and it was only when Satoru grabbed my breasts that I realized how hard my nipples were. Gojo pinched one with his forefinger and thumb and pulled hard, the usual pain spreading across my chest as Suguru licked and nibbled the other. I whimpered louder and more hypersensitive, feeling that delicious pressure in my womb as Geto began to massage my clit with his thumb. I grabbed his wrist weakly with my hand when the urge to pee came over me, but who said I could ask him to stop? I squirted on Suguru's chest as he and Gojo hit very specific spots inside me.

“Oh my… fuck!” Gojo groaned and slapped the curve of my ass and I felt him cum inside me, his viscous liquid warming my insides more and more, as if that were possible. Geto came a few more times before cumming inside me too, prolonging my orgasm. All three of us were gasping for breath.

They both pulled their already soft cocks out of me, the thick white sperm leaking out too, but which they made sure to push back in. I wasn't much more than a crying, wet mess, with drool and tears running down my face and cum leaking from both holes. Gojo and Geto got up and tidied themselves up – Geto's blouse was almost completely soaked by my squirt, that would be difficult and embarrassing to explain. I tidied myself up as well as I could, putting my blouse back on and letting out a sad murmur when I saw my panties bubbling in a pile of dirt, completely impossible to put back on.

“Can you get up, pretty?” Geto asked me and I said no, my legs still too weak.

He lifted me off the ground and held me on his lap, snuggling me into his warmth: “I think we'd better go home.”

“Of course, she's almost asleep there” Gojo said at the same time as my eyelids closed heavily.

Fallen Wings (Fallen Angel! Sasuke Uchiha x Angel! Reader) ((Oneshot Slight Smut))

The ruins of the ancient temple felt colder under the pale light of the moon. My footsteps echoed as I stepped into the heart of it, the air around me heavy with something dark and suffocating. My wings shifted uneasily, brushing against my back as if they, too, sensed his presence.

I shouldn’t have come.

"You shouldn’t be here," I said aloud, my voice trembling just enough to betray the war raging within me.

A shadow moved from the corner of my eye, and then he was there—Sasuke. His wings, once just as pure and radiant as my own, now hung behind him like obsidian blades. They were tarnished, beautiful in their own ruin, like him.

"I could say the same to you," he replied, his voice a low, velvety drawl that made my heart skip. He stepped closer, his crimson eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "You fell." My words came out quieter than I intended, a whisper of disbelief and something deeper—regret. "Why did you fall, Sasuke?"

He smirked, the faintest curve of his lips that still managed to leave me breathless. "Because I was tired of pretending to be something I’m not. And because I knew you’d follow me."

His words hit me like a blow, but I couldn’t deny the truth in them. I *had* followed him.

When he reached out, his fingers grazed my chin, tilting my face toward him. The warmth of his touch was a shock against the cold night air, and I froze, my wings fluttering faintly in protest—or surrender.

"I missed you," he murmured, his voice like a prayer and a curse all at once. "But you missed me too, didn’t you?"

I opened my mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. His thumb traced the line of my jaw, the touch so gentle, so utterly at odds with the dark energy radiating from him.

"This is wrong," I said instead, though even I didn’t believe it.

"Then stop me," he challenged, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear. "Tell me to go, little angel, and I will."

But I couldn’t.

I shuddered as his wings unfolded, cocooning us in shadows. The world beyond the temple seemed to disappear, leaving only us in this forbidden moment. Before I could find my voice, his lips crashed against mine, stealing what little breath I had left.

His kiss was fire, consuming and unrelenting. My hands found his chest, pushing him away—no, pulling him closer. I hated how much I wanted him, how much I had always wanted him, but I couldn’t stop myself.

"Sasuke," I gasped as he pulled away, his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Say you want me," he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. His voice was raw, demanding, and it sent a thrill through me I couldn’t deny.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling as his touch ignited something deep inside me. "I want you," I whispered, the words feeling like a fall from grace.

A wicked smile spread across his face, and I knew he had won. He lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the cold stone of the temple wall. His wings surrounded us, a shroud of darkness that should have terrified me. Instead, I felt only the heat of his body, the intensity of his desire, and my own, burning just as fiercely.

His lips claimed mine again, and this time, I surrendered completely. There was no room for hesitation, no space for guilt or second thoughts. His hands roamed over my body, every touch more demanding than the last, and I gave in to him, to the sinful bliss he offered.

His whispers filled my ears—promises, confessions, and the faintest hint of vulnerability beneath the darkness. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my wings brushing against his in a way that felt almost sacrilegious, yet so achingly right.

For tonight, I didn’t care about the consequences. He was my fall from grace, and as his lips and hands consumed me, I realized I’d let myself fall a thousand times over if it meant being with him.

when you and eren broke up you blocked him on everything. instagram, twitter, gmail, spotify, cashapp, everything. you said that break up was gonna be the last one, and you meant it. so how did you end up here? in the backseat of connie’s car, with eren’s cock buried deep in your cunt and his hands cupping your face. “you’re fuckin’ mine forever,” he murmurs, and you can feel how much he means it, his desperation. you should tell him no, that after this you’ll never speak to him again. but you’re too far gone; cock-drunk and stupid, babbling nonsense about needing him to go faster, harder, deeper. he laughs, actually laughs at you. tells you how he just knew you’d come around, you’re made for him after all (at least, your pussy is). and as you reach your climax, gasping and moaning his name, you just know you never should have tried to break up with him in the first place.

u can run but u can hide

cw. ghostface!suna x fem!reader, pet names, smut, little non-con if u pay attention, established relationship at the end, english isn’t my first language.

wa. 2,7k

It was close to 10 p.m. when I went down to the kitchen to make some popcorn. My parents went on a trip and left me home alone. It was common for nights like this to happen, as they always traveled for work.

I put the butter and corn in the popcorn maker and turned on the stove at the same time as the landline in the living room started ringing. The phone was maintained by my parents' work, because let's face it, nobody still uses a landline these days.

“Hello?”

“Hello, who is it?” a thick voice asked on the other end of the line.

“Who are you trying to reach?”

“What number is this?”

“What number are you trying to reach?” I replied.

“I don't know.”

“Well, I think you have the wrong number, then” I spoke simplistically.

“Do I?”

“Yeah, it happens.” I shrugged, even though the person couldn't see me, and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. I turned to go back into the kitchen when the phone rang again.

“Yeah, I guess I really did call the wrong number.” It was the same voice.

“So why did you call again?” I asked, with a laugh.

“To apologize.”

“You're forgiven. Bye.”

“Wait, don't hang up!” The person exclaimed.

“Huh? Why not?”

“I want to talk to you for a minute.”

“Well, you have plenty of other numbers for that.” I said with a smile, hanging up the phone.

The popcorn had left a delicious aroma in the kitchen and my mouth was already watering. I was stirring the popcorn popper, waiting for the corn to stop popping, when my cell phone rang. It was a private number, so I had no idea who it was, but I answered anyway.

“Hello?” I asked as I looked for a bowl to put my popcorn in.

“Why don't you want to talk to me?”

“Okay, who is it?”

“Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine.”

“Um, no, I don't think so.” I rested my cell phone on my neck to get the popcorn out of the pot.

“What's that noise?”

“Popcorn.”

“Um, I only eat popcorn at the movies.”

“Well, I'm going to watch a movie now.”

“Yeah? What movie?”

“Oh it's just some scary movie.”

“A scary movie? Interesting” the person on the other end of the line paused and I could hear his heavy breathing “What's your favorite scary movie?”

“Oh, I don't know...” I pondered a bit, leaning on the kitchen counter, popping some popcorn in my mouth “I think… Scream.”

“It's the one with the masked killer, isn't it?”

I mumbled an "uh-huh", wanting to end the conversation

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” The person asks.

“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” I asked mischievously, with a laugh.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Mm, no.”

“You never told me your name.”

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.” the person stopped talking and I remained silent, a shiver ran through my body and the joke was no longer funny. “Are you used to being alone at home, y/n?”

“Who's talking?” I asked seriously this time.

“Calm down, there's no need to get nervous” the person spoke with an annoying calmness “You see, it's important to lock all the doors when you're home alone, especially at this time of night. Are you sure everything is locked, y/n?”

“It's not funny anymore. You know I can call the police if you carry on with this silly little game, don't you?” I checked the front door and the door to the living room that led to the garden and both were locked.

“Yeah? And what would you say to the police? Although... I don't think it's a good idea to call the police, sweetheart, especially given the clothes you're wearing, right? You know how disgusting these guys can be.”

I swallowed, going up to the second floor.

“And what am I wearing?” I asked. It was probably just some weirdo trying to prank and scare me. From school, maybe. But even so, I checked the glass doors leading to the balcony, just to be sure.

“Um, let's see... You're wearing a black tank top, and apparently you're not wearing a bra since your nipples are marked on the fabric, and a... what is that? A pair of panties? Shorts? I can't tell the difference, but it's short, black and has a kitten print.” My heart was pounding out of my chest and I wouldn't be surprised if it jumped out “You're quite a sight, y/n.”

“Right, end of joke. I'll call the police.” I ended the call and went to my room. Of course I wouldn't call the police for that.

A cold wind blew in through the open window, chilling my bare legs. I hurried to close it and locked it out of conscience just as I heard a noise in the hallway, only to stick my head out and see nothing. I jumped with a gasp when my cell phone rang again, but fortunately, this time it was my mother.

“Hi babygirl, how are you?” she asked softly and I relaxed at hearing her voice.

“Hey, Mom! I’m okay, how are you?” I lied, I wasn't going to worry my parents on account of some unoccupied weirdo.

“We're fine!” I heard my father shouting "I love you, baby!" in the background and my mother's laughter “I called to see if everything was okay, you're not scared, are you?”

I laughed nervously “Of course not! I'm a big girl, I can stay at home on my own!”

“Huuumm okay, Mrs. Grown-up” we laughed “Make sure you go to sleep soon, huh? Don't stay up till dawn.”

“Yes, ma'am!” We laughed some more and said goodbye.

I was able to relax a bit more and went down to the kitchen to get my popcorn. I went upstairs and turned off the downstairs lights that were on and returned to my room, putting the movie on the TV and lying down on the bed.

[…]

I was almost halfway through the movie, about forty minutes in, when I heard a noise, a kind of thump. I instantly remembered the phone call from earlier, which had really scared me. I decided to ignore it, it must have been the wind knocking something over in the garden or something. I played the movie and snuggled into bed, my popcorn bucket long since empty. But, as my peace wasn't lasting long tonight, I began to hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. I stopped the movie immediately. I tried to convince myself that it was nerves about the phone call that must have been in my head, or even the influence of the movie, but it was too real to be in my head. The footsteps were firm, they didn't seem to want to go unnoticed. A thick, loud voice said "toc, toc" followed by two knocks on my door. I froze, paralyzed on the bed.

“Cat got your tongue, y/n?” it was the same voice from the phone, I knew for sure.

“What are you doing in my house?! How did you get in here?” I asked nervously.

“Come on, I told you it was dangerous to leave the doors unlocked, didn't I?” the guy said, in the same calm, irritating tone of voice.

“Everything was locked, you weirdo!”

“Are you sure?” the door handle began to turn slowly and my body moved on its own towards the closet.

I hid among my clothes, crouching on the floor. I was panting and shaking, tears in the corners of my eyes. I heard the door creak open and footsteps entered my room. I mentally cursed myself when I realized that I had left my cell phone on the bed. Now would be a good time to call the police.

“Do you want to play hide and seek?” he said, laughing before continuing: “All right, it's more interesting that way.”

I heard him open the door to my bathroom and I could see when he turned the light on through the crack in the door. I also heard him open the drawer of my dressing table and play the movie on the television, even though he had turned the volume down.

My heart was pounding loudly and I was afraid he could hear it, so I put my hand over my mouth to stop my panting coming out too loud. I watched as he opened the closet door. He was a tall guy. All black pants, shirt and boots and a white ghost mask preventing me from seeing his face. The fucking ghostface. He rummaged through some hangers, making space between the clothes. My heart beat even faster, he'll find me. He'll find me!

“Boo!” he made space at once between the clothes covering me, a sadistic laugh coming from beneath his mask.

[…]

“What do you want?” I asked in a tearful voice, sniffling.

He laughed: “Let's watch the movie.”

What?!

I looked at him paralyzed, still crouched on the floor of my closet, and he left, sitting on my bed.

“Aren't you coming?” he turned to me, as if waiting for me. I got up from the floor, walking slowly over to him and sitting on the bed on top of my legs. He shook his head in denial, clicking his tongue. “Come here, sit down.” he patted his own lap.

I swallowed and looked at him incredulously, even though I couldn't see his face. I stood up and faced him. With surprising speed, he turned me onto my back and whispered against the back of my neck: “Do you know what a safe word is, y/n?” I nodded “Yours is mercy, you'll use it if you need to.”

His big an cold hands gripped my thighs firmly from behind.

“Bent forward and your head on the floor.” he ordered, his voice firm.

I did as he asked, sat on his lap, my clitoris almost brushing against his scratchy jeans, I was hanging off the bed, my torso stretched out and my face almost touching my white fur rug.

“What do we have here?” he said, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was smiling.

He pulled my pajama shorts aside, the chilly air in the room making my pussy clench around nothing, since I wasn't wearing any panties. He ran one of his fingers between my outer lips, realizing right there that I was wet.

“Did the fright I gave you make you wet, sweetheart? What a pervert...” he pulled my shorts down my legs with a little difficulty due to the position, hooking my ankles around his waist.

His hands roamed up and down my thighs, his thumbs hooking into the curve of my ass. I was all open for him, open and dripping.

“So pretty, babe” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, followed by a slap on my ass. It burned.

One more.

One more.

One more.

My thighs trembled from the slaps and my pussy throbbed and ached from lack of stimulation. I moved my hips down, my clitoris rubbing against his jeans, and I let out a louder moan than I expected.

“Owwn” he laughed “Does that pussy need something, pretty girl?”

I gasped when his icy thumb brushed under my clitoris.

“Come on, beautiful, I asked you a question. Don't be rude.”

“I...” I was dizzy. Maybe because I was horny, maybe because of my position and my blood was rushing to my head. I was nothing but a mess.

“Looks like someone here likes to be scared” he laughed as he rubbed my swollen clit.

I moaned, unconsciously leaning towards him for more contact as his palm slapped my pussy, the pain reverberating throughout my body. He slapped my ass again, my skin was hot and burning.

“Your pussy looks even prettier when your ass is red, that’s funny” but his tone had no humor in it.

When the seventh slap came, I let out a yelp, scrambling to my feet in a failed attempt to ward off the pain burning my skin. He laughed at my attitude, stroking my burning ass. Each time he slammed into me, the momentum pushed me further and further down, rubbing my clit against his jeans, which were probably already stained with my lubrication. Those flashes of pleasure were what kept me there, the pain and pleasure turning me on even more.

“Come on, babe, do you want to cum already?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down.

I turned my crying face to the side, trying to see his figure: “Yes! I... Please!” I was nothing but a humiliating mess who just wanted some relief.

“Very well, then” he pulled my torso to himself, my back against his hard and warm chest, my battered ass pinching under his scratchy jeans.

“You okay, babe? Do you want to use your word?” he asked, his hot breath hitting my cheek. I denied it. He smiled. “That's my good girl.”

He laid me on the bed, my back on the mattress, while he lay on top of me. He ripped off my top with ease, my nipples erect from arousal and the chilly air in the room welcoming them. He tugged on my right nipple with his forefinger and thumb, twisting it and pulling it upwards, eliciting a moan from me. He left a kiss on my belly and started to undress, without taking off his mask yet. His chest was white and toned, with a few spots here and there, as were his thighs. His cock wasn't thick, but it was long and slightly curved upwards. The little pink head was leaking pre-cum and had a prominent vein at the base. I sighed at the sight.

“Enjoying the view, doll?” he asked, head tilted to the side, sliding his right hand in a slow masturbation. I tipped my head back, biting my lip with a stifled laugh. You bet I am. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He said slyly, pulling me up by my ankles and slowly inserting his cock into my needy pussy.

“Oh fuck” I moaned, sinking my head into the sheets. My insides trembled around his cock, feeling full. He sighed heavily above me, muffled by the mask.

He moved his hips back, taking his cock out completely, to shove it in again with force. He did this a few times before he started thrusting hard. I moaned loudly, too sensitive. My pussy was squeezing his hard cock and my clit was throbbing, my ass was burning against the sheets. I brought two fingers to my clit to stimulate it, but they were soon removed and replaced by his.

He rubbed my swollen spot hard with his thumb while I squeezed my nipples. The familiar pressure felt extremely good from my womb.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum!” I exclaimed as I felt my orgasm coming, and he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving deep into my pussy.

My legs trembled as the orgasm hit me and I opened my mouth in a silent moan. He penetrated me a few more times, prolonging my orgasm as he deposited his hot cum inside me.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as he removed his mask, kissing me for the first time that night, a delicate kiss. I laughed against his lips. “You perverted little thing!” he laughed, slapping my sensitive ass, not so hard this time.

“Rin, babe! That was awesome!” I kissed him with so much love.

“You naughty naughty girl!” he laughed, biting my lower lip as he pushed his oozing cum back into my pussy.

“Yeah and you like it!”

Well, let's see what a coincidence. The weirdo Mr. Ghostface who broke into my house and fucked me happened to be my boyfriend, Suna. He and I always like to do something different when it comes to sex from time to time, and knowing that his naughty girlfriend was a little scared and horny about ghostface and that she'd be home alone all night, he wanted to surprise me. Besides, I would recognize my boyfriend's voice on the phone, which only increased my anxiety and excitement about what he would do that night. And what a good surprise it was!

meio daddy's home meio angels in tibet 🥵🥵

madelyn cline in obx 4 premiere. like and repost if you use 🤍

meow

fantasy books (tellalegend, cathjest and evajacks) christmas headers!! 🦌🎅🏻♥️

like or reblog if you save or use! pls!

my HC is that Naruto, being used to living alone eversince, has had a long time believing he's finally coming home to someone like Hinata, especially in the early stages of their married life (**and dating 😌🤌)

...allow the man to fully appreciate the significance of these sweet moments

happy birthday Naruto!

I've set up my ko-fi page (tho needs a few more polishing) sooo I will be open for commissions soon if anyone likes what I draw (my style)...I want to save up for a new art equipment 🙏